Music
It’s long past midnight but Nashville has never seemed brighter. Down on Broadway the country music has been playing since a little bit beyond breakfast, and it shows no signs of stopping. The neon signs blare into the night, and crowds spill out into the street, giving it a kind of inner-city festival vibe – except it’s all day, every day, and all night, every night. Nashville doesn’t do days off, with the centre of Music City becoming an incredible factory line for all shades of country music. In spit ‘n’ sawdust venture Layla’s, it’s hard country and rockabilly; down at Posty’s – a three-floor extravaganza opened and funded by rapper-turned-country-enthusiast Post Malone – there’s more of a modern rock vibe. You can have whatever your flavour, whatever your passion, so long as it sits under the big, broad umbrella of country music.
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As we dart from venue to venue, eyes wide open against the glare of the lights, it can seem too much to take in. As we begin to focus, though, some patterns emerge. Sure, the bachelor and bachelorette parties are in town, but the effervescence seems contained, respectful. Groups of friends – locals, we presume – take the floor for country dancing, indulging a passion that connects them to their parents, and their parents before them. Amid this swirling vortex of noise – Nice People Dancing To Good Country Music, as the t-shirt has it – some traditions remain.
One of those traditions, as luck has it, is the Fender Telecaster. Invented by Leo Fender some 75 years ago, it’s a design classic, up there with the Ford Mustang in terms of globally recognised Americana. It’s an instrument that has weathered time and tide, seeping into the bedrock of pop culture – a host of country greats played it, while in the UK everyone from Jimmy Page to Joe Strummer used it as their weapon of choice. More recently, Jack White brought it into his arsenal, even working alongside the Fender team on a very special Signature edition.
In some ways, the story of the Telecaster and the story of Nashville feel intertwined. At points, it feels as though every single bar has someone playing the instrument – redoubtable and enormously flexible, it’s a country cornerstone.
Weary Brits abroad wake the next day, wolfing down some American style pancakes before venturing to the Ryman Auditorium. This isn’t any normal venue – famously dubbed the Mother Church Of Country Music, it’s famed acoustics and natural warmth played host to the Grand Ole Opry for decades.
Founded 134 years before our visit, the impeccably designed resonance of the building contains a church-like quality. The seated pews amplify this, but the worship is – broadly – secular. Music is the well-spring of faith, and dotted around the building are some incredible, priceless artefacts from country’s storied history. Clothing worn by everyone from Dolly Parton to Willie Nelson are represented, while autographed posters from Coldplay and Foo Fighters attest to its modern identity. The storied past may weigh heavily, but it’s something to be cherished, not smothered by.
Here, too, the Telecaster makes it presence felt. It’s there in photos, clutched preciously against the breast of iconic musicians. There’s even a few behind glass cases, their magic kept in place for future generations to gaze it.
It’s a humbling experience, a reminder of Nashville’s dichotomy between tradition and flux. At one point, the Ryman could have closed its doors, the upkeep of the venue proving to be too much as the decade’s passed. Rather than rebuild, it was the musicians themselves who stepped in, a series of donations – many kept secret – helping to protect and preserve the venue.
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Just a few hours later, we leaned first-hand of the magic the Ryman Auditorium can conjure. Fender decided to host a special 75th birthday party for its iconic instrument, and an all-star line-up gathered to celebrate the Telecaster.
The glittering line-up matched the neon force of the signs down on Broadway. ZZ Top’s Billy Gibbons performed with Larkin Poe. Country heroes Brothers Osbourne rocked the century-old venue to its foundations. Brad Paisley was greeted by screams. Australian great Tommy Emmauel swapped his trusty acoustic for a very rare electric performance, honouring the memory of his brother in the process.
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And still it went on. Displaying the instrument’s dexterity, Kingfish Ingram chopped down on a Prince classic, bringing the Ryman to its feet. Jack White – utilising his own Signature edition – rampaged through White Stripes classic ‘Ball & Biscuit’, treating the show with the same ferocity that he does his own concerts.
The final all-star jam was the stuff of dreams. With the crack Nashville band holding down the groove, a plethora of guitar greats attempted to out-do one another, the squealing electricity matched only by the howls of the crowd. The sheer talent on display is staggering – at one point, a breathless Jack White refuses to go back on, overawed by the technical dexterity unfolding around him. Thankfully, he was too polite to surrender completely – and his black and white guitar beamed technicolour audio over our heads.
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Fender has a long relationship with Nashville. From those early sales days to its current base in the city, the company is intertwined with Music City. Meeting some of the team the following day, it’s clear that everyone here is living their dream – the walls are lined with rare instruments, and they’ve all developed close bonds with the musicians who come past. You learn a lot from people in this setting – the way they hold their guitar, their needs from the road, but also their motivations for doing this. People have a tendency to open up with a Telecaster in their arms.
“My Dad played guitar, so the Fender logo on his guitar picks was probably the first logo I ever saw as a kid,” explains Fender executive Justin Norvell. Working on Fender projects – such as last night’s all-star concert – isn’t just a business plan, it’s something personal, and much more intimately emotive.
Take the Telecaster itself. A self-confessed indie rock kid in his teens, Justin has loved holding, playing, and dreaming with the Telecaster for the bulk of his life. “It cuts through,” he points out. “It’s got something. Songwriters love it. It has a certain sound. It’s so unfettered and pure and direct and honest. It doesn’t have a lot of bells and whistles on it, so it give you room to shine through and do your own thing.”
“That’s why it’s so relevant,” he points out. “You can play different styles. And whatever the next style is gonna be, you’ll be able to play that, too!”
It’s a remarkable truism that for all its ubiquity in pop culture, there’s still incredible room left to explore in the Telecaster. Tweaks are made, different editions emerge – individual players want their needs to be met, and the instrument is allowed to evolve, all while remaining distinctly true to its own heritage.
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CLASH takes a trip out to East Nashville after meeting with the team – they’ve recommended we check out Grimey’s, a fabled vinyl haunt in an area that has emerged as a key creative community. The large upstairs room is lined with vinyl – second-hand stock from the 60s, the latest releases out front. A local journalist is chatting to the teller about a show from Stephen Sanchez that is coming up, a local-boy-made-good whose second album reinforces the viral breakout of his debut.
It’s clear that Nashville is evolving. Downtown, the big, tall glass buildings reflect the Spring sunshine, the influx of tech firms in the past decade and a half distorting the area’s character. Out East, the street art, venues, and restaurants show a different side, but there’s a feeling of conversation, not conflict. The construction cranes may loom large in the distant, but right now Nashville is being shared, its citizens aware of the city’s historic periods of evolution.
Finishing our journey, we first head to the labyrinthine Country Music Hall Of Fame, we’re shown this relationship in glorious technicolour. A feast of information, the building moves from Jimmie Rodgers to Kacey Musgraves, from the Carter Family to Taylor Swift. It’s a triumph of American genius, the often rags-to-riches stories – literally in the case of Dolly Parton or The Everly Brothers – reminding you of the inherently working-class nature of country music as a form.
With just a few hours left, we can’t resist visiting the Third Man Records HQ, the shop-studio-venue set-up that Jack White has imprinted on Nashville. He’s not local – famously from Detroit – but his move to Music City emboldened local musicians, amplifying different strands in the process. Two very different buildings, both indebted to the same city, and music’s transformational power.
When we catch a cab to the airport, the party has resumed once more. Moving slowly through the traffic, the bars are beaming country music to the world. There’s a joyous permanence here, and we can’t help but view it as being wholly wrapped up in the Telecaster. A classic of modern American design, a world-changing instrument, those six strings supply modern music with its pulse.
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Words: Robin Murray
Imagery: Supplied by Fender
With Grateful Thanks To: David Djukic, Amy Albinson, Haaris Ali
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