Let's Start Year 2

One year ago yesterday I left New York late in the morning not knowing what was ahead of me. I didn't know where I was going to live, I didn't know what I was going to do for money, I didn't know who I was going to meet, I didn't know what music I was going to make. I only knew where I was going and that I had to go. I spent that night in a shady, rundown Motel 6 in Wytheville, VA, following a mediocre meal at Applebee's (redundant?), and an emotionally and physically draining trip.

The next day - September 24th - I woke up, loaded back into the Manilow Van, and drove the final five hours west. My first stop in town was Panera Bread on 21st Ave. South, right by Vanderbilt University. It was a beautiful fall day, and after lunch I had an appointment to meet the owner of a house in Germantown and look at a potential room for rent. We ended up hanging out for two hours, talking about our common New York roots and influences, and listening to some music, and it became clear that this place immediately felt like the right place. I left there feeling excited and hopeful, and headed to the Airbnb that would be my home for a week. This was my first day living in Nashville, TN.

Recently, the changing weather and the smell of the fall air has been eliciting all sorts of memories of my first few weeks here. Hanging out in my Airbnb room with nothing to do, catching up on The Walking Dead. Going to my first Nashville open mic. Eating three meals at Applebee's thanks to a gift card. Seeing my first show at The Listening Room. Getting food for the first time at Martin's BBQ Joint. Joining the Nashville Songwriters Association. Eating four meals at Panera thanks to a gift card. Walking around Centennial Park. Discovering new supermarkets. Sleeping on the floor of my new room before my POD was delivered.

It's hard to believe that I've already been here a year, but today I have a much better understanding of the things I didn't know when I first arrived. The people that I've met, the experiences that I've had, and the music that I've been lucky enough to be a part of has all made it obviously clear how correct my move to Nashville was, and continues to be. I'm a better musician, I'm a better songwriter, I'm a better person.

Let's start year 2.

The Days Just Get Away From Me

It's true, and it's the reason I haven't posted here since March 2nd. The days just get away from me.

After that last post we had a few last days of winter weather here, followed by apartment searching. Then it was final daily rehearsals with Bearing Torches before hitting the studio March 13-15.

Pictures from our time recording at Blackbird Studios, March 13-15, 2015.
Posted by Steve Schultz on Tuesday, March 17, 2015

I fully intended to write my first time recording in a top-of-the-line professional Nashville studio, but then I was jumping through hoops trying to actually secure the apartment we wanted and set up things like cable, electricity, etc, followed by getting my limited amount of belongings ready to move and doing some incremental moving since my leases over-lapped. Then I was up to New York to pick up a truck, finish packing up my girlfriend's apartment, and drive her and her stuff down here to Nashville (1 day/950miles)...since that was the whole point of getting the new place! Then we've had issue after issue to deal with here at the apartment. The management company has been helpful, but quite honestly they've had to be helpful a lot. And I had to jump right back into rehearsals with Bearing Torches because we're back in the studio next week to finish recording the record!

Two days after the drive down we got to see Stevie Wonder, which was equal parts exciting and boring, and last week we went to the Opry - because they were both just regular Tuesday nights in Music City! Last weekend we went to Louisville, KY, to visit my former roommate and check out Thunder Over Louisville, the kickoff of the Kentucky Derby Festival. And we also stopped at the Jim Beam Distillery for a great tour and tasting.

So, like I said - the days just get away from me. But I'll try harder now. Lots of exciting stuff coming up.

The Psychic From Las Vegas

I've been having a some pain in my right hand. It's not a debilitating kind of pain, its just some pain. I first noticed it in my wrist when I was doing push-ups, and now notice it mostly in my hand when I'm trying to cut through something tough, like a block of cheese. I bought a big block of cheese a few weeks ago. Colby Jack, as a matter of fact, along with some Fire-Roasted Tomato & Olive Oil Triscuits and pepperoni. I'm all for eating healthy, but you know what? Sometimes you just want some cheese, crackers, and pepperoni. Or some chocolate. And cookies. And ice cream. And it really hits the spot, often times as an appetizer while I'm cooking dinner, or a snack in the afternoon. But I digress.

I really want to talk about my parents. And Las Vegas. You see, my parents love Las Vegas. It's their favorite place to be, and when they're there they're always out on the town, seeing shows, and hanging out with friends from all walks of life that you might never think my parents would walk in. They were just there recently, and my dad called me. It was before noon in Vegas, but like all good people there they were at the bar. And then he proceeded to tell me a story. He explained that the night before, my mom had gone to a party at a friend of a friend's house, and the party featured a psychic who was the host's daughter. Apparently, each guest got a chance to sit with the psychic for a number of minutes and get all psychic with her.

He then said, "She says you should put your right hand in ice water."

"Who said that?" I asked.

"The psychic said that you should put your right hand in ice water."

True story.

Grinding To A Halt

Last winter was pretty brutal. Lots of snow, wind, and temperatures that often times dipped into the single digits and below. I remember one morning my car doors wouldn't open and - frustrated from weeks and weeks of the frigid onslaught - I proceeded to kick my car, hoping that would get me in. And I succeeded! I manged to get my driver side door open, and my passenger side door came open while I was driving down the road on the way to work. In recent years Poughkeepsie has been notorious for having terribly treated roads (and terrible other things thanks to the guy in charge), and I had two road incidents last year: once where my car slide into a light pole while trying to make a turn, and another where it couldn't handle a slick off-ramp, which forced me stay straight and travel over the bridge. Neither incident occured while there was actual, you know, precipitation falling from the sky, but both had me telling myself that that winter was going to be my last in the northeast. In my mind I was planning a move to Los Angeles or Nashville - warmer climates, and warmer winters. Talk about some bullshit.

Last week I was able to be back in Poughkeepsie for my friend Brett's funeral, and subsequently my niece's birthday and Valentine's Day, as well. And surprise - it's another brutal winter in Poughkeepsie (and all of the northeast). The snow, the wind, the below zero temps? Yup, they were all there. While I was home Poughkeepsie set a record low of -14 degrees. I'll write that out for you: negative fourteen degrees. That's seriously cold, and it was seriously windy. So windy, in fact, that I changed my flight home from Sunday to Monday because of predicted 50mph winds in White Plains.

And then Winter Storm Octavia decided it was going to come right across Tennessee, hit Nashville with an ice storm, then proceeded through the upper south, hitting Charlotte, which was my connecting city. Apparently all that terrible winter weather that I chose to leave in the northeast decided to come visit me in Music City - only I wasn't there. So, I changed my flight from Monday to Wednesday, and hunkered down while the storm brought Nashville to a halt. Shows were cancelled. School was closed for the entire week. All while I cooked dinners, and hung out with my girlfriend and my family. And I did not have a guitar or a keyboard, but I was able to be at least a little productive in other ways.

When I did finally get back to Nashville on Wednesday, the interstates I rode home on were clear, but the side roads were not. In fact, even though I know the area isn't as experienced with this weather, and even though I know everyone here is working overtime as best they can, as a person from the northeast I still find the conditions of the roads to be...well, let's just say surprising. Imagine a road with two lanes in each direction and a turning lane in the middle, with the four main travel lanes relatively cleared and the middle turning lane not cleared at all. Imagine streets cleared only where the wheels of the cars actually hit the road. Imagine cars sitting at the bottom of driveways because they can't make it up the hills to the house. My street is on a small hill and I had the tires on my GMC Safari spinning the day I got home. One Friday on the way home from rehearsal I took a detour and found myself in two precarious positions: one where I had to back up very slowly to avoid the iced-over street ahead of me, and another where I was sliding, foot on the brake, down a slight hill toward an intersection, hoping I would stop in time. Luckily, I did. My housemate slide into the curb and had his hubcap knocked off.

The point is...winter sucks. All the way around. Except for maybe in Los Angeles? Well, I still think I made the right choice. Time to get the wheels moving again.

To My Friend, Brett

Mulligan's Irish House in Poughkeepsie became kind of like my unofficial home base. From my monthly solo/acoustic shows, to my bi-monthly solo/acoustic shows, to my Over The Edge Album Listening Party (and even to a bachelor party I threw there one time), my appearances at Mulligan's Irish House were epic - often epically under-attended, that is. But more often than not, you would find, sitting at the bar drinking a diet soda, my friend Brett. He would show up, hang out, make jokes with the rest of the regulars who would frequently come out to see me, and proceed to heckle me from the bar like Waldorf & Statler. And he could never get enough of constantly requesting that I play "MMMBop," by Hanson (which I never did), getting on the mic for background vocals in "Free Fallin'," by Tom Petty (which he did numerous times), and singing along to "Forever Young," by Rod Stewart (which I had learned just for him).

But my history with Brett extends back much further than shows at Mulligan's Irish House - more than 20 years, in fact. Brett and his brother, Dan, were my camp counselors when I attended YWCA Camp Cedarcliff - a small summer day camp that I always went to because my mom worked at the YWCA, and at which I ended up as a counselor myself for my first job. Every two weeks or so at camp there was an event called "Parent Sharing," where the families of campers would come and the different groups of kids would perform skits or songs, sometimes based on a theme. One time, under Brett's direction, my group performed an infamously bad rendition of Rod Stewart's "Forever Young," which has become the stuff of legend and inspired me learning the song for him. It was always performed tongue-in-cheek.

When I was younger, my family and Brett's family were both mutually close with my brother-in-law's family, so he would always be around. Summer parties, holiday meals, New Years celebrations, and late-night movie screenings thanks to my brother-in-law's movie theater connections (I still can't believe that he didn't like Galaxy Quest, by the way - I mean seriously), and even though he was a decade older than me and had been my camp counselor, as time went on and I got older he became much more of a peer and a friend than a "grown up." Maybe that was because I was growing up, or that he had such an irreverent sense-of-humor, or an affable personality, or his closeness to my brother-in-law, or a combination of all of it. Brett was a "brother from another mother" to my brother-in-law, so just like my brother-in-law's actual brother he because a part of my extended family. When my sister got married in Vermont in 2006, Brett and I shared a room at the inn. A couple years ago when he directed a sanitized, age-appropriate version of the play Election at the middle school where he worked, I was there to support him the way that he had always been there to support me at Mulligan's.

We got word yesterday that Brett suddenly and unexpectedly passed away, and it's shocking for everyone who knew him - friends, family, and friends who were family. It's surreal, to be sure, and being so far away from home all I can really do is share a few memories of my friend. And maybe have a diet Pepsi in his name. As my brother-in-law writes, "A whole freakin candelabra has gone out and it's going to take a long time for our eyes to adjust to the darkness."

 

In an mmmbop...

2015 - Full Steam Ahead

For all the posts I've made about Nashville - what goes on here, what it's like, how it's different, etc. - I really haven't made any posts about what I'm actually up to in Nashville. You know, in terms of like...music. Well, I've been here four months so I guess it's about time I clue you in.

I'm the new drummer for Slipknot. I know, I know - most of the internet believes it's Jay Weinberg, son of E Street Band drummer Max Weinberg, but that's just how good a job we did at hiding my real identity. Currently, we're on tour in Europe, and I'm having a blast!

But when I'm not thrashing about with them, for the past 2 months I've been working with a band who moved to town from Kansas City the same time that I did. We were lucky enough to connect and really click in terms of style, influences, and personality, and it's been an exciting time playing with them more days than not, firming up arrangements, and tightening the sound of the group in preparation for some serious studio time in the coming months. The plan is to live-track as much as possible in order to fully capture the energy of the band, and that's a different way of how I've usually worked in the past. My album Over The Edge, for example, was strictly multi-tracked piece by piece - first we did drums, then bass, then guitars, keys, horns, and so on until all the instruments were there. Live-tracking requires a lot of preparation and practice beforehand to do it right, but I'm excited for the challenge and the opportunity.

I'll post more about the band and what we're up to as things continue to progress, but the plan is to be doing my first Nashville studio sessions less than six months after moving here - not bad when you consider I knew only one person who lives here, he is not in the music industry, and I haven't even seen him because he had his first kid right after I arrived.

Onward and upward, baby. 2015 - full steam ahead.

P.S. No, I'm not really the new drummer for Slipknot. C'mon, people, get your heads in the game!

The Most Out of Place I've Felt In Nashville

It can be stressful moving to a new place. A new city, a new state - they can make you feel like you don't belong. Like you're a traveler in a foreign land. Like everyone else knows how things work and you don't. Frankly, like you're a bit of an idiot, and quite possibly that everyone is staring at you thinking, Hey, who's that dumbass Yankee from New York? Of course, I'm speaking purely hypothetically.

Luckily, though, I haven't had too many experiences feeling that I'm a fish out of water. Nashville is a very welcoming place, especially within the music community. Everyone is from somewhere else, but it keeps the southern hospitality mentality. But do you want to know the time I really felt most out of place in my new surroundings? Because I'll tell you if you come in close and promise not to go around telling people. It wasn't at the tons of open mics that I've been to. It was at the two Titans games that I went to. It wasn't at NSAI events that I've been to, even when a publisher and a bunch of other songwriters have been listening to my music and judging it. It wasn't even at the CMA Awards when a joke about the Democrats losing the senate made the crowd to wild. You really want to know what it was? It was when I got my oil changed.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, WTF?! I get it, but hear me out. When you go to Valvoline in New York, you park your car by the garage entrance, get out, and tell the service technician what you're looking to have done. Then they get into the car, drive it into the garage, do the work, drive it out, and let you know when it's ready, all while you wait in the waiting area with the bad coffee, boring magazines, and The Weather Channel on the TV. But in Tennessee? Oh, in Tennessee you drive the car into the garage yourself and then stay in it while they do the work. And it confused the hell out of me - not because I didn't understand what was going on, but because all my life I've gotten out of the car when I got my oil changed. I mean every time. But this time I got out and the service attendant was like, "You can get back in - we don't take that long." All I had to do was roll down my window to talk to him as he stood at a computer station. Honestly, I felt like I was doing something wrong; like I was breaking some rule. But he was right: they didn't take that long.

And now I know. And hopefully next time when they mentally identify me as a "Yankee from New York" they'll leave out the "dumbass" part. Hopefully.

Stepping Inside RCA Studio A

When word started coming out in late June of last year that RCA Studio A - currently operated by Ben Folds and his team, and called Grand Victor Sound Nashville - was to be sold, demolished, and replaced by a mixed-use luxury condo complex, I was still living in New York, wrapping things up before I could make the move to Tennessee. And quite honestly, I had nowhere near any kind of complete knowledge about the studio other than its connection to Ben Folds. And I still don't. But through the campaign waged by Ben and others like Trey Bruce, Sharon Corbitt-House, and Mike Kopp, I became a supporter of #SaveStudioA, as did many others. Specifically, Aubrey Preston, Mike Curb, and Chuck Elcan, who each stepped up to save the studio that witnessed the recordings of classics songs like Dolly Parton's "Jolene." All seven of them were named Nashville Scene's "2014 Nashvillians Of The Year," and you can read the whole compelling story about the effort here. And on Monday the 12th, I finally got to step inside RCA Studio A.

 

On that day, there was an open-to-the-public press conference announcing a partnership between the Music Industry Coalition - the organization put together to represent "the past and future of Nashville's music industry and its birthplace, Music Row" - and the National Trust for Historic Preservation. So, of course I went, because why not? I mean, Mayor Karl Dean was there. Congressman Jim Cooper was there. The Nashvillians Of The Year were there. Why shouldn't I be there?! Read about the event here.

Despite the water for the peppermint tea being lukewarm, actually being inside that studio was great. First of all, it is by far the biggest studio I have ever been in, and could probably house at least fifty of the studio we built and recorded Over The Edge in. It has four grand pianos, two upright pianos, countless organs, synthesizers, and other keyboards, drums, guitars, basses, huge moveable baffle walls, a full hi-fi listening area set up like a little living room, a staircase up to a second floor room, and some seriously sexy microphones that just seemed to be casually hanging around. Having been built in the 60s, it also has a certain decor that I've often found myself (maybe oddly) fond of - a feeling that I similarly feel whenever I visit the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC - and that was all just the live room! I sadly didn't have a chance to look into the control room. But you could feel an energy that honestly came off as very unassuming; you walk into 30 Music Square West and the studio is just the door on the left. As often as I drive by it, it's cool to wonder who is working just behind the the outside wall. As a matter of fact, the day of the event the organizers encouraged us to stay, but to not stay too long because Ben had to get back to finishing his new album. Music happens there. I stole a fun-sized crunch bar on my way out.

This past Saturday night I was hanging out in front of Ernest Tubb Record Shop on Broadway, talking to a guy that I knew from a couple open mics who was playing on the street, when I notice a taller guy standing in front of us looking into the store. I immediately recognized him as Aubrey Preston. I introduced myself to him and his wife, shook his hand, and thanked him for all he's done for RCA Studio A.

Just another day where I can say: this is why I moved to Nashville.

Honoring Little Jimmy Dickens

The first time I visited the Grand Ole Opry House was Friday, April 19, on the final night in Nashville during my "let's check this town out" visit last year. My girlfriend (who is a much bigger country music fan and aficionado than I am) really wanted to go, and seeing that the Band Perry would be performing, I agreed. I never thought my second time there would be for a funeral.

Little Jimmy Dickens was - and is - a country music legend, having lived to the age of 94 and having a career lasting well over 70 years (learn a little about him here). To be honest, though, until his death on January 2, I had never really heard of him. Since I've never been a huge country music fan I don't have memories of Jimmy the way I do of other musicians and entertainers. But last Thursday the Opry was holding a public memorial service for Jimmy, and realizing that his life and work was an important part of what helped make Nashville Nashville (and as a result led me to be living here), I decided to go.

Walking into the Opry House felt like walking into a church, which probably isn't all that surprising given the ties and roots shared by country music and gospel music. Wreaths of flowers, pictures of Jimmy, attendees dressed in black down on the main floor, and the casket at the front of the house made me realize that this wasn't just going to be a memorial - it was going to be a full funeral. And it was, complete with eulogy, prayers, a sermon, and of course music. As I wrote above, I never knew him and don't have any real connection to him, but I couldn't help to be touched by the stories of the people who did. Each performer who came on the stage to sing and each person who stepped to the podium would tell stores of what Jimmy had meant to them, the country community, and the Opry - and it wasn't just musicians. One of the speakers was championship figure skater Scott Hamilton, whose inclusion was not only the most head-scratching to me, but also maybe the most demonstrative of how far Jimmy's friendship stretched. In fact, a story he told was one the of most touching, recounting an incident where Jimmy had played and sang for Hamilton's then 5-year-old son, and gave the guitar he was using as a gift that Hamilton's song still has and cherishes.

But my favorite anecdote came from Vince Gill, who before performing his song "Go Rest High On That Mountain" with Carrie Underwood explained about the guitar he was using: it had belonged to a member of Jimmy's band way back in the day, and had been used to backup Jimmy's Opry appearances many times. A few years back, Vince bought it, and he felt it was only fitting that it help support Jimmy at the Opry one last time.

See a clip of Brad Paisley performing here.
See a clip of Vince Gill and Carrie Underwood performing here.
See a clip of "Will The Circle Be Unbroken" here.
Read "The 10 best quotes from 'Little' Jimmy Dickens' funeral" here.

Greg From New Jersey

If you go to a writers round here in Nashville - whether pre-scheduled or open - one thing you'll likely see is performers accompanying each other on their songs. Even if they don't know someone else's song before it's played, other songwriters often jump in and play along. It's something that I never saw in New York and it took a little time to get used to, but it's part of the music community vibe and it can help make the song come to life more than with just one guitar and a voice can. Aubryn's Monday Open Mic at Daisy Dukes is a little different, though, because musicians come out specifically to back up the songwriters performing. Jase is usually there on guitar, and sometimes there's bass, percussion, and sax, but less regularly. Last night I happened to sit down next to a guy who introduced himself as Greg.

Greg is from New Jersey, goes to college in College Station, TX, and is taking a long, leisurely trip back to school. He was staying in Antioch with some friends (who are the kind of people that have been in the area for 8 years and have never been to downtown Nashville), and he wanted to make the most of his one night in town. Oh, and he also brought his cello. I don't know exactly how he ended up specifically at Daisy Duke's, but it sure was the right place for him to be. In an odd twist, I started introducing him to some of the people there (like I've been around for a long while and know everyone), and in a short time he had a seat on the stage, a mic on his cello, and he was backing up pretty much every songwriter along with Jase, Ryan on guitar, Lee on percussion, Chris on sax. He had a great time, and told me that it had been an amazing night and all he had been hoping it would be.

You don't get that kind of camaraderie at other open mics - in or out of town. A cello player who knows no one here for one night being immediately welcomed, and getting to sit in and play for basically the entire evening? Yeah, I think that's one of the reasons why I moved to Nashville. I just didn't know it when I did.

2014: Wow, I Did A Lot Of Stuff!

Time is a funny thing to me, because we tend to talk about it like it's simultaneously slow and fast, big and small. That event 4 months from now? It's so far away, but it'll be here before you know it. Looking back on a year can make it feel insignificant and fleeting, but we often forget how much stuff happens over the course of an entire 12 months. Here are some highlights from my 2014:

-I saw Billy Joel for the 6th time - my 2nd time at MSG.
-I got my first tattoo.
-I visited Nashville, TN, with my (now) girlfriend.
-I toured the Jack Daniel's Distillery with my (now) girlfriend.
-I saw Bruce Springsteen for the 12th time - the 2nd time with my (now) girlfriend.
-I went to the Grand Ole Opry with my (now) girlfriend.
-I spent 3 days in Washington, DC, & Northern VA.
-I went to my 2nd Washington Nationals game, got drunk on Miller Lites, Dos Equis, and tequila, and then walked though our nation's capitol back to my friend's apartment.
-I visited the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center National Air & Space Museum.
-I spent Memorial Day weekend in Ocean City, MD, saw 3 shows of my friend's reggae band, drank my fill of Miller Lites, and spent 11 hours on the road trying to get back home that Monday.
-I said goodbye to Poughkeepsie High School and the Poughkeepsie City School District for the 2nd time in my life, this time after 8 years of having worked there as a way to supplement my music career.
-I bought my first new keyboard in 6 years: a Nord Stage 2 Compact.
-I played 28 shows with my cover band In The Pocket, including our farewell show on August 16th that required months of planning.
-I played in my 2nd New York Songwriters Circle showcase at the Bitter End.
-I played my last show in my home state before moving out of it.
-After 4 years of group lessons, group lesson, and recitals, I taught my final piano lesson at the Newburgh Performing Arts Academy.
-I saw Wicked on Broadway with my (now) girlfriend.
-I spent a weekend in Atlantic City for the bachelor party of one of my best friends.
-I took a trip to Walt Disney World with my (now) girlfriend - my first in 15 years - and put on what had to have been 20 pounds in 4.5 days.
-After 10 years, I finally had to say goodbye to my 1999 Chevy Malibu. It had belonged to my pseudo-grandmother and was given to me in 2004 after she passed away.
-I moved to Nashville, TN.
-I was a groomsman in my friend's wedding in Sea Bright, NJ. I looked good. I got completely wrecked on Jack Daniel's.
-I got involved in the Nashville Songwriters Association International.
-I went to the 48th Annual CMA Awards here in Nashville with my (now) girlfriend, courtesy of The Doobie Brothers.
-My girlfriend officially became my girlfriend, even though everyone - including you - saw that she was my girlfriend long before then.
-I attended 2 Tennessee Titans games in less than 3 weeks - both for free.
-I spent my Thanksgiving volunteering with Gobble Gobble Give Nashville, then stuffing myself with BBQ.
-I experienced holiday air travel for the first time.

My 2014 was a year full of firsts, seconds, sixths, twelfths, lasts, and more. I'm sure yours was, too, but if you don't look close enough you just might miss it.

Here's to 2015 and the adventures that lie ahead! Happy New Year!

"Home For The Holidays" Actually Means Something To Me Now

As we're getting closer to Christmas and I'm getting ready for my flight home, it occurs to me that these past three months in Nashville have been the longest amount I've ever spent out of New York. When I was in college it's possible I spent more than three months away from home (though at this point who can remember), but since I went to school in Western New York I was still in the state. Up until September, the longest I had ever spent out of New York was a two-week family trip to Florida when I was ten - not exactly the kind of life-changing adventure that my current one has been. And in an ironic and somewhat poetic turn of events, I'm traveling back to New York exactly three months to the day since I left.

I'm very much looking forward to being home for the holidays, and I'd be lying if I said that this year the season didn't feel just a little bit more special than it has in the past. I guess the term "home for the holidays" can only really be understood when "home" is no longer where you live all the time. A 2008 survey found that almost 60% of Americans never live outside their home state, and almost 40% never leave their hometown. But now when I hear the song on the radio as I'm driving around my new town I can't help but feel differently about it...albeit with a slight change in the lyric. Its been six weeks since I last saw my girlfriend, and I haven't seen my parents, my siblings, my nieces and nephews, my extended family, or my closest friends in at least three months - for some longer than that. Sure, I've talked to many of them on the phone and online, but it's not the same as being able to share a meal or a drink with them.

I realize that to some people, this may seem like no big deal. I'm sure that many are jaded from the years and years of holiday traveling that they've done. But for me these past three months have felt like non-stop new experiences - new people, new places, new music, new opportunities, new responsibilities. Even when I'm not around town doing things and meeting people, just being here can still feel a bit foreign, so I'm excited to take a step back for a little while and enjoy things that I already know. People and places that are familiar. Yes, I'm not able to spend as much money on presents as I would like. Yes, my childhood home is now owned and lived-in by someone else. But in the end those little things aren't going to matter. Home isn't the amount of gifts below the tree or the roof under which that tree has been placed. Home is the people you surround yourself with, and that's where I'm going.

I'm going home for the holidays.

I met a man who lives in Tennessee and he was heading for
Upstate New York and some homemade pumpkin pie...

They Hear What You Say Before They Hear What You Play

Last week I talked about Nashville being a small town and the importance of always doing your best to leave a good impression - specifically not giving up mid-song and and walking off the stage at an open mic because the EQ in your monitor isn't what you want it to be. If you ask me, that's pretty solid advice, and I think there are a lot of other people who would back me up on it. But making a good impression is more than just playing your song through to the end - it's also about presenting your song in a favorable way. Let me esplain. No, there is too much; let me sum up.

The other week on a very rainy night I took my first trip to Belcourt Taps in Hillsboro Village to see a songwriter I'm acquainted with perform in a round. It turned out that she wasn't actually playing, but I chose to stick around anyway, enjoy my first Sam Adams Winter Lager of the season, and listen to the writers who were. There were three of them, but one in particular that I want to talk about.

Prior to his last song, this writer gave an introduction where he talked about how it had been his first cut - a track on the second album of the band Train a band that you most definitely know. The album was the band's first smash success, went something like triple platinum, and included a #1 song that to this day I really dislike. So how did he get a cut on this album and reap the mechanical royalty benefits? Well, it turns out that at the time he was living on the couch of the band's drummer. That's a great story! And then right before he played the song he said that it had been a bit of a "filler song" on the album.

Wait.

Stop.

See the problem? Why would you ever describe a song you're about to play in a round as "filler"? Why would you ever play a song in a round that you might think of as "filler"? Why do I want to hear a song performed in a round that the songwriter believes is "filler"? I understand what he was saying, but that's not how he should've said it. That word makes me think, Oh, OK, this isn't something I need to listen to, and that's not the vibe you want to be sending to your audience. There was no further intro needed, but if he had to he should've said something like, "Unfortunately, it was never released as a single, but it's a great song and I'm still proud of it."

Remember: they hear what you say before they hear what you play. The listener's opinion of your song will always be influenced by your opinion of your song, even if you don't realize it. So make it a good one.

Nashville Is A Small Town

With a population over 600,000, you might not think Nashville is a small town, but it is. And in terms of the music industry, I've been told and I'm learning that it's very much a company town. Everybody talks to everybody. Reputations travel fast, and you never know who you might be talking to or who they might talk to. This person is friends with Eric Paslay, or that person used to live with Taylor Swift's bass player, or the table in the house that you live in used to belong to Alison Krauss. Nashville truly is a music community with ties running deep and wide, so be cool. Be positive. Be easy to work with. Be open to ideas. Be a generally good person to be around. These things - sometimes more than your talent and skill level - can honestly be the difference between watching that next door open or not.

As a new songwriter in town I try to go out to at least 3-5 open mics a week. They're good opportunities to try out new material and expose your music to other musicians and songwriters, as well as hear theirs. These people are your peers, colleagues, and potential collaborators, and even if you don't end up working with them you might work with someone connected through them. Yes, as I've written before open mics in Nashville are very much the same as open mics anywhere else, but where they differ is that we've all chosen this city and are all kinda in the same boat. I've met people and had some great conversations while just standing around, drinking a beer, waiting for our slots to come up on the list.

The other night I was out at a particular open mic, listening to a songwriter that I have heard and met before (we're not really friends, but we're acquaintances because if you go to enough open mics you start to see a lot of the same people and faces get familiar). He's a talented guy and a regular at this open mic and others, but about a minute into his intimate second song of the night he abruptly stopped and said with some frustration that the boomy bass EQ on his guitar through his on-stage monitor was too distracting for him to continue. It was a jarring moment when juxtaposed with the apparent quiet tenderness of the song and the usually lighthearted nature of these events (sure, your songs may be serious, but everyone is out to have a good time). He borrowed another musician's guitar and tried again, but encountered the same problem. And seemingly before I realized what was happening he was off the stage putting his guitar away directly in front of me, his aggravation showing through the way he was packing up. It caused me to stop for a second and say to myself, "What the hell just happened?" And I could hear the surprise in the voice of the host as she thanked the performers and introduced the next ones.

Two things: first, it has been my experience that open mics in Nashville have better sound quality than most if not all others that I've played at. Venues around here have on-stage monitors, and time is usually taken to get the levels and EQs right for each performer - a practice that is decidedly unusual in other places. Yes, there were some technical issues going on with the PA throughout the night, but even though that's the case this was still an open mic. Of course everyone wants to sound their best, but you can't expect things to be perfect. When he stopped playing it was abrupt and a little startling, particularly because the crowd was hearing none of the problem that he was apparently dealing with. As a professional, sometimes you have to work through conditions that are less than optimal.

Second, I've seen this guy play before. I know he's talented, my interactions with him have always been friendly, and for whatever reason he was obviously having a bad night. We all have them, and I wouldn't be surprised if he felt or feels bad about how he acted. It's not my intention to call him out, but rather to use the story to illustrate a point we should all keep in mind: what about the person there that night who hadn't seen him before? What were they thinking about the songwriter complaining and then leaving the stage because his monitor mix wasn't what he wanted it to be? First impressions are often the most important, everyone's trying to get it right the first time, and whenever you're playing an open mic you have to assume you're making a first impression on at least someone, if not a very important someone. And no matter how poorly you think you've played or the difficulties you had to deal with, you have to ask yourself: what kind of impression do you want to leave?

Nashville is a small town, and it's important to act like it.

The Walking Dead Sucks And You Know It

I realize The Walking Dead is the most massively popular TV show in the world at the moment, but it's time to face facts and acknowledge reality: The Waking Dead sucks and you know it.

Full disclosure: I used to love The Walking Dead. Even fuller disclosure: I stopped watching during the second half of last season due to the reasons you will read below, but caught up on it when I first got to Nashville and had nothing better to do, and I've continued watching the new episodes this season. Why? Well, I guess I'm just waiting around for it to get good again. Every week I tune in hoping that my loyalty will be rewarded with an exciting, compelling, fulfilling, satisfying episode, and every week I am disappointed. And be honest - you are, too.

Like many others I discovered and binge watched the first two seasons on Netflix, and season 2 especially had me hooked with what seemed like one "HOLY SHIT!" moment after another ending each episode: Carl getting shot, the search for Sophia, the conflict with Shane, the internal power struggles within the group. Sure, some people didn't like that they were at the farmhouse the whole season, but that didn't bother me. Honestly, I felt like the attachment to the farm was an important part in making the burning of it in the season finale so powerful and emotional. And then a lot of season 3 with the Governor, Woodbury, the return and final fate of Merle, and of course bidding farewell to Lori? Perfect.

But something started to go wrong. Things were starting to have a tendency to get...well, boring. I'm sure lots of people would point to the revolving door of showrunners that TWD has had as to why this monotony began to creep in, and I'd be willing to bet that that fact ties directly into what I think is the show's biggest problem: trying to stretch the plot arcs into too many episodes, most likely to milk as much out of the surprising mega-hit franchise. Remember the season 3 episode when Rick and the Governor sit down face to face to talk about their conflict? It was called "Arrow on the Doorpost." It should've been called "Filler." My favorite show of all time is The West Wing (specifically seasons 1-4), and it basically consists of what that episode was: people talking in a room. But in The West Wing at least things happened. Plots were developed. Characters were fleshed out. In season 3 of TWD we knew that a huge confrontation was coming between the residents of the prison and the residents of Woodbury, and as a result everything up until that moment became just a way to draw out the process and produce more episodes. Would the meeting between the two of them change that inevitable fate? No, so let's get to it.

Then we get to season 4, and I found myself watching episodes while thinking more and more, "What does this matter?" and "Why do I care?" So many original characters had been killed off in an attempt to keep the viewers wondering who would be next to bite it (Amy, Jim, Sophia, Dale, Shane, Lori, T-Dog, Andrea) that the show began to suffer from a real and continuing problem: a lack of connection to the current characters. Who are these new people? Why am I supposed to care about them? Because I don't. I really didn't care who got the flu and who died. Glenn survived! But honestly if he hadn't I may have been too jaded at that point to even let it bother me. Plus the whole flu plot was just another way to do what? That's right - to stretch the money machine out. We were all waiting for the Governor to return, and everything until then just wasn't important. But then he did return, and TWD started doing the one thing that has really brought the plot and the excitement of the show to a screeching halt: they began producing whole episodes revolving around one, two, or three characters.

When the Governor finally came back into the picture, we were treated to two glorious episodes of...well, just him. Following him around in a protracted attempt to show a defeated, multilayered human being building himself back up and back into a controlling madman. All the excitement that had been amassed waiting for his return quickly turned into a collective groan when we all realized it would be more than two episodes before it would at all, and this painful production tactic continues to this day. And with the death of the Governor and Hershel we were further disconnected from the characters, which exacerbated the problem I mentioned above.

The second half of season 4 is dedicated to everyone's trek to Terminus (i.e. let's all just walk around for eight episodes), and it was here that the producers perfected their "let's make everyone suffer through the boring and the pointless in order to reach the last two minutes that contain the only significant event" approach to each episode. Carl eats pudding until Michonne shows up. Maggie gets all Rambo-ed up in the search for Glenn until she finds him. Daryl and Beth hang out in a funeral home until Beth is taken. Abraham wants to get to D.C. Carol tells a girl to "look at the flowers" (something I often wish someone would tell me to do while I'm suffering through an episode). I realize many would argue that those eight episodes were all about "character development" or something like that, but let's get real - that's just someone's way of trying to sound more sophisticated by saying they're "get it." They don't "get it." No one "gets it."

And then when the group finally gets to Terminus - oops, guess what?! It falls within the first episode of season 5, and all that build-up - half a season! - was all just a waste of our time and the producers jerking us around. Are you surprised? You shouldn't be at this point. So far this season we've dealt with a random priest with a past; Bob inconsequentially getting his leg cut off and eaten even though he was already going to die; Daryl coming out of the woods with an undisclosed friend that we had to wait three episodes to discover the identity of; Beth killing time in a tyrannical hospital until Carol is wheeled in on a stretcher; and Daryl and Carol walking through Atlanta until Carol gets hit by a car. I'm not going to lie and say that Beth's death in the mid-season finale didn't affect me - it did. It was unexpected, shocking, and she was a sweet, innocent character that we first connected with when the show was good. But setting aside the fact that it's basically her own fault she was killed, it's important to see that her death and the way the series led up to it is the only play that the current producers seem to know how to make: a tiresome, tedious, drawn-out building toward one seemingly important event that as a whole is neither entertaining nor satisfying. It's a formula that they've used within episodes and over multiple episodes, but in the long run it's causing the show to lose the fire, energy, and excitement that we all got into it for in the first place.

The beauty of the title of the show is it's double meaning - referring not only to the zombies themselves but also to the living who are left dead inside by the terrible things they've had to do and endure in order to survive. But in truth it really refers to the viewer who mindlessly and numbingly keeps watching a show that has stopped being enjoyable. And that would be all of us. I'm sure the ratings will be high when it returns in February, but when that happens I urge you to not delude yourself into thinking you keep watching because it's good. You're really tuning in with a futile hope that one day it might be good again. And because truthfully you've got nothing better to do on a Sunday night.

Because The Walking Dead sucks and you know it.

MNF (And The Joys of Walking Distance)

It had been years (probably around 20) since I attended my first and only NFL game - until Monday night, of course. And that 20-year mark is very appropriate, considering that 20 degrees was pretty much the temperature outside. Oh, yes, we were bundled up tight.

Why did I go? Obviously because the tickets were free! My one housemate's nephew works for ESPN so he got us tickets specifically for the Steelers vs. Titans game because my other housemate is a big Steelers fan. And I could give a damn. But if it's free, it's for me, so off we went kept warm by the layers of clothes, the hot chocolate, and the Jim Beam!

I actually had a pretty good time. I don't like watching football and don't root for a team (despite the large amount of Bills and Giants fans amongst my family and friends), but seeing it live was a lot of fun. The game goes a lot faster in person than on TV, and being in the thick of it with the fans was exciting. And since there really are very few Titans fans and Pittsburgh is only about 9 hours from Nashville, the place was filled with lots of Steelers fans. I'd have to say at least half the crowd was rooting for the Steelers, myself included because of my housemate (my allegiances are up for grabs).

And the best part? Aside from the Steelers winning, the good seats, the boisterous company, and the smuggled-in bourbon, we we were able to take Lyft there and then walk back. No fighting with traffic, no jacked up parking fees, and no having to drive, and that's the larger point of this post: everything is so close in Nashville, especially to where I live right now. Despite the cold, us walking home from LP Field was an easy 1.6 mile trip. When I went to the CMAs last week? We walked home. When I hit Rock Bottom a few days after that? Yeah, we walked both ways. If I want to catch a show at the Ryman Auditorium I can watch tickets online right up until showtime, buy tickets last minute, walk to the venue, and still make it on time. Back in Poughkeepsie the closest arena is in Manhattan, Albany, Long Island, or Hartford - trips that take a little planning and maybe even more driving. But not here. It's very convenient.

And then later on we went to the Hermitage Cafe for late night breakfast.

If You Watch Football on Thanksgiving, You're Part of the Problem (Updated)

Last November, self-righteous, condescending, and professional internet troll blogger Matt Walsh posted this article entitled, "If You Shop on Thanksgiving, You Are Part of the Problem," and after being picked up by Huffington Post it quickly began making the rounds on Facebook. It's a post decrying the bloated growth of Black Friday to the point where our national day of Thanksgiving could now more accurately be called Black Thanksgiving (coincidentally also the name of my unwritten holiday-themed horror movie), as well as assigning the blame for the moral crumbling of a great American tradition to shoppers looking for a deal. And his views haven't changed given this recent tweet:

I've decided to institute a mandatory policy of automatic deportation for anyone who goes Black Friday shopping on Thanksgiving
— Matt Walsh (@MattWalshBlog) November 12, 2014

We live in a country that has a nasty problem with consumerism and debt, and stores being open for big sales on Thanksgiving is really all the evidence you need that the problem is getting worse. But now that we're well into another November, faux concern and anger over this practice is again spreading online, and I can't help but try to illuminate Matt and those who feel the same way he so surely does to the bigger picture that they are clearly missing (or simply choosing not to see). Just because you don't go shopping doesn't mean you're not a part of the same problem you're so seemingly miffed at.

Matt writes:

Capitalism is great, but some things are greater. Family is greater. Yes, these folks choose to work at these stores. Yes, they likely knew when they signed up that they'd be sacrificing their Thanksgivings. Yes, at least they have jobs. Yes, sure, and so what? If that's enough in your mind to justify participating in the destruction of a great American tradition -- good for you. But you COULD wait until Friday, couldn't you? And if you did wait until Friday, and if everyone waited until Friday, no store would ever open on Thanksgiving again, right? So you COULD take steps to protect Thanksgiving from the decay of materialism and consumerism, and, while you're at it, give this wonderful holiday back to the customer service representatives who have been forced to abandon it and cater to the stampeding throngs, right?

An interesting point there, and in light of it I would like to ask Matt, and everyone else who is outraged over stores being open on Thanksgiving, a few questions.

To start: do you watch football on Thanksgiving? Have you ever spent your holiday going to a game? If so, have you ever thought about all the people who have to work to make the game and the broadcast happen? The last game was less than 3 days ago on Monday night - can't you wait until Sunday for another? And if you did wait until Sunday, and if everyone waited til Sunday, no football game would ever be played on Thanksgiving again, right? From parking attendants, to ushers, to security, to food service workers, I'm sure they're all more than happy to give up their Thanksgivings so that you can sit home or in the stadium and enjoy yours more. But it's OK, because football makes the day more bearable and it's tradition, right?

Have you ever been to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, or watched it on TV? Have you ever thought of the number of extra cops who have to work because of that 4-hour commercial which, by the way, has become a glowing symbol of the very consumerism you have such a problem with? What about all the workers who have to staff the businesses along the parade route? I went to the parade when I was in 7th grade. We took a  Metro-North train into the city, had lunch at McDonald's in Times Square, and froze our asses off. But it's OK, because it's tradition, right?

One of my biggest pet peeves with holidays in general is that once 8PM rolls around, most everything is done with and there's really nothing to do...but you can always go to the movies. Have you ever gone to the movies on Thanksgiving? Do you think the people who sell you your ticket, sell you your snacks, run the projectors, and then clean the theaters are simply not interested in spending time with family and friends? I don't know, but regardless it's OK, because after all nothing says "giving thanks" like catching one of the probably 17 Thanksgiving Day showings of The Hunger Games: Mockingjay, Part 1 at your local Regal, right?

Lots of people consider it a holiday to not have to cook on Thanksgiving. Have you ever eaten at a restaurant on Thanksgiving? Maybe a Denny's. What about gotten coffee at a diner or a drink at a bar with some friends that you don't see very often? Do you think the wait staff and cooks have an aversion to being in close quarters with loved ones, and therefore are cool with working? Maybe it's a family establishment and so it's all good because they're all in it together. I really don't know.

If you are cooking, are you doing it all by candlelight over a campfire in your backyard? I doubt it, which means you're going to be using plenty of electricity and possibly gas, and you must realize that those services simply don't run themselves. Someone has to be manning the system, and someone has to be ready to go into the field to deal with emergencies and outages.

Occasionally when you're in the midst of cooking a meal you realize we forgot to buy something, and Thanksgiving is no different. So what do you do? Go out to the supermarket to grab it? If you couldn't remember the cranberries before the big day can't you just go with out them on the big day? Think of those people working the checkout register.

If you were to call 911, would you expect someone to answer and help to be sent your way? Probably. I have a paramedic friend who has worked Thanksgiving for years, and not because he doesn't like turkey.

What happens when you're on the way to grandma's and you realize your car is running is on empty?

Now of course I'm embellishing the point to drive it home - unfortunately that's what you have to do to compete in the bullshit hyperbolic, absolute "truth teller" world that an internet arbiter like Matt Walsh thrives in. Nuance is for lesser thinkers. This Thanksgiving I might watch football (though I'm not a huge fan), may watch the parade (though I find it kinda boring), and might hit a diner, grab a drink, or see a movie (though probably not The Hunger Games). I doubt I'll call 911, but who the hell knows? I won't be doing any shopping, but I also won't be under the delusion that nothing I do this holiday will have a negative impact on other people. Companies like Wal*Mart who employ workers at low wages and use shady compensation tactics to prevent them from truly making holiday pay should of course be ashamed of themselves, but the emergence of more "open for business" signs on Thanksgiving is merely an extension of a problem in America that has been building for years and years: those who can afford it will have good holidays, and those who cannot will work.

And just like you're so upset about Thanksgiving Day sales, I guarantee that in 10 years you will be flipping a shit if they decided to end them.

Because by that time it would be tradition, right?

How I Attended The 48th CMA Awards Courtesy Of The Doobie Brothers

Country music was never my thing growing up, and as I've said before I never thought I would find myself living in Nashville. I also never thought I would find myself at the CMA Awards, a show that to be honest I don't know if I've ever sat down to watch on TV at home. But on Wednesday, November 4th - my 6-week anniversary of moving to Nashville - I not only went to the show, I went for free courtesy of The Doobie Brothers. What the hell? Yes, exactly. It's actually an amusing story, though less because of me and more because of dumb luck.

As a songwriter new to town, one of the first things I did was join NSAI - the Nashville Songwriters Association International - and of course I like them on the Facebook. Around 10:45AM Tuesday morning, the day before the CMAs, The Doobies posted the following message and picture, and NSAI shared it through their page:

Anyone who knows Nashville music knows that the picture is of Historic RCA Studio B, about a block from NSAI headquarters, and right next to Ben Fold's Grand Victor Sound Nashville Studio (formerly Historic RCA Studio A) that was recently saved from being demolished. I know right where that is, I thought. I could be there in 10 minutes. My girlfriend (a big country fan) was coming to town the next day and I knew she would love to go to the show, so after a few minutes of waffling I threw on some clothes and jumped in my car.

I got to the area around 11:20 - about 35 minutes after the picture had been posted - found a spot a block away on South St./Chet Atkins Pl., and started walking toward the studio. Then I may have started running. I had no idea how many other people were going to be trying to find these tickets, so I had to get there fast. And when I got there I found...no one else around. The searched commenced. For about 20-25 minutes I looked all around the building, through the glass doors, under rocks, in trees. Anyone driving by probably couldn't understand why there was a weird guy crawling through bushes on Music Row, but you do what you gotta do. And for all my efforts I still found nothing. No envelope. No tickets. I was about ready to give up and go home.

Then the side door opened and a guy walked out wearing a laminate of some sort. I turned to him and said, "Hey, where are these Doobie Brothers tickets?" He held out his hand and gave them to me. Turns out he was the manager of Studio B and had found the tickets taped to the back of the tribute Roy Orbison guitar when he got to work that morning, but that he couldn't go to the show because he didn't have a sitter. I was dumbfounded. I took the tickets, shook his hand, and he went about welcoming a busload of tourists. A quick call to a number left with the tickets confirmed them, and I was asked to send a picture of me holding the tickets in front of the studio.

See what I mean? Dumb luck. I've had experiences and met people that I can in some way attribute to the work that I've done, but let's be honest here: the only reason I got these tickets was because I'm relatively new in town, don't have a lot going on during the day, and can leisurely browse Facebook at 10:45 in the morning!

Bridgestone Arena, Nashville, TN - November 5, 2014

So how was the show itself? It was cool. Very impressive seeing how they moved from act to act so seamlessly using one big stage in the front of the arena and one smaller stage in the back. They would lower facades on the main stage so that one artist could be setting up without being seen while another was performing, but our seats were high enough that we could see it all happening.

Pre-show view of the main stage from our seats

During commercial breaks clips from past CMAs were shown on the screens, and the crowd gave a very audible "boo" when Garth Brooks' "Friends In Low Places" clip was abruptly cut off to get ready to come back to the live broadcast (oh and by the way, that clip really shows how the country music scene has changed over the past 24 years). You could also hear the bands warming up, sometimes giving away to the arena audience what they were going to be playing. My favorite performance of the night was probably Carrie Underwood doing "Something In The Water," because it's a powerful song and she's such a monster singer. And say what you will about country music, but each band was tight. It was great hearing real musicians playing real instruments live. Jason Aldean could've used a little auto-tune, though.

The Doobie Brother's closed out the show with "Takin' It To The Streets," which was fitting for me because that was one of the first songs my cover band learned back in 2011. But Michael McDonald does a better Michael McDonald impression than any of us ever could.

My Favorite Open Mic In Nashville

As a general rule, I don't really like open mics. I'm sure I've written about this before somewhere, but there it is again. The problem with open mics is embedded in their very format - they're open. Anyone can sign up, anyone can play. And as I wrote in my last post, even in Nashville that means on any given night the quality of the performers will range from "great" to "what the hell was that," and you hope that you lean more toward the former than the latter. But keeping that in mind - and the fact that I haven't been to every one Nashville has to offer - the open mic that is quickly becoming my favorite is the Douglas Corner Cafe. Why? I'll tell you.

Donnie Winters - The Douglas Corner Open Mic/Writer's Night is hosted by Donnie Winters, a friendly, welcoming musician who has been around for years and years. He's patient and relaxed with the performers, often joins some of the songwriters on their songs, and facilitates a great atmosphere to play and meet others.

Great Sound System - Not having the right mic placement or being unable to hear yourself well enough can really throw your performance off, especially for a keyboard player like myself. Guitar players have their instrument right with them as they're singing, but if I can't hear my keyboard well enough through the monitor it can make things difficult. Thankfully, that's never a problem here.

Two Songs - A lot of open mics in town you get one song, and when you sometimes have to sign up by 8 to not play til after 10, only getting to play one song can be frustrating. But at Douglas Corner you get 2 to show your work, every time.

Round Style - A writer's round is when you have three or four songwriters on stage, each taking turns playing a song, and this is how Douglas Corner is set up. Four writers on stage playing one song apiece, and then one song apiece again. It's good for the writers and the listeners.

The Regulars - Douglas Corner, unlike some other open mics, actually has regulars who play there every week, and most likely they're the ones you want to hear each week. Why do they keep coming back? My guess is the reasons that I've mentioned above.

$2.75 PBRs - This one should be pretty self-explanatory.

You Never Know What To Expect - The last time I played there I shared the stage with a husband & wife who sang foreign songs and spirituals a cappella. And during one of the songs by the 4th person on stage they started to slow dance. It was...weird. The wife was crazy. I'm sure that despite my efforts my face told the audience exactly what I was thinking.

I'll keep checking out open mics in town, but the bar's been set pretty high. I'll see you there on Tuesday.

Welcome To Nashville

Well things are starting to settle down for me in my new Tennessee digs. I arrived in town on September 24 with a week-long Airbnb reservation so I could apartment hunt, and hunt I did. I looked at 5 or 6 places that I found on Craiglist, and I lucked into a house near downtown owned by a fellow musician/songwriter from Long Island who went to college in the Hudson Valley and has been in town for 10 years. Big Beatles fan, big Billy Joel fan. Pure coincidence.

I'm obviously still finding my way around and getting to know the lay of the land, but allow me to share some things that I've learned in my first two weeks in Nashville.

1. The traffic sucks. I was not expecting this, but the population of Nashville has outgrown the city, and it continues to grow. As a result, during rush hours Interstates 24, 40, and 60, can be miles of stop and go drivers, and the streets near downtown can be gridlocked for blocks. Oh, and rush hour starts around 3PM.

2. There are Targets everywhere. Back home there's a Target in Poughkeepsie, and ones in Kingston and Newburgh that I'd never go to, but in greater Nashville there's about 14. I feel like I can throw a stone from anywhere and hit one. I drive home from a Target and on the way I pass another Target. No joke.

3. The three main supermarket chains - Harris Teeter, Kroger, and Publix - all carry Boar's Head deli products. Need I say more? I didn't think so. Damn, I could go for a sandwich right now. And speaking of supermarkets...

4. Sales tax on groceries. The state of Tennessee does not have an income tax, so they need to raise money in other ways such as charging sales tax on groceries. In New York, groceries are sales tax-free, and I think that's the way it should be. Sales taxes are regressive to begin with, but to charge it on food? Bad form.

5. Open mics can suck just as much as everywhere else. Coming to Nashville you might think that open mics are going to be filled with top notch talent. Nope. Sorry. Not to say you can't find anyone great, but you're gonna have to wade through a lot of other music on the way. I played the open mic at the famous Bluebird Café on Monday, listened to about 33 other songwriters, and was really impressed by 1 of them. The rest ran the gamut of quality from bad to good like any other open mic I've been to. If you want really good songs, go to a writer's night, which is not open and features performers arranged in advance.

6. There are cash advance stores everywhere. Tennessee Quick Cash. A-1 Cash Advance. Evergreen Cash Advance. Inglewood Cash Advance. Advance Financial. Xpress Cash Advance. I noticed it when I visited in April, as well. It's sad.

7. Bolton's Spicy Chicken is really hot. The end.