Nashville Honkeytonks
By LENA KATZ
The room is small, packed tight with people. The stage is just a platform raised a couple feet off the ground--it barely holds four people and their instruments. The players are tattooed hillbillies, some sporting the rolled-up shirtsleeves and slicked-back hair that evoke early-days Elvis or Brando. Everybody--I mean everybody--is smoking cigarettes and drinking whiskey or cheap beer. Including me. Even though I hate cheap beer, and I don't smoke.
The Sunset Strip this ain't--thank God.
It's nice to know that there are some places in the world--in particular, Nashville's famous Lower Broadway (or “Lower Broad” to locals)--where the talent still outshines the poser factor, and where people go out to have fun, not to be seen. Where you can cut loose and dance with your husband, girlfriend, or with a perfect stranger you just happened to bump into at the bar. Where nobody gives a damn what you wear, or how much your handbag cost. Sure, Nashville honkey-tonks are a bit gritty, with hard-backed wood chairs and cement floors and decor that's approximately as scuffed-up as the clientele. Obviously, no 'celeb decorators' or architects have been let loose in these places with million-dollar design budgets to blow. And there are no velvet ropes or VIP hosts to circumvent. But the scene itself is humming with excitement and energy. There’s history to a lot of these places—plus, if you’re lucky enough to be drinking in the right joint at the right time, just when Nashville’s next big star swaggers onto the stage—history in the making.
Kick off your night at Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge, where there’s always some kind of loud, rock-meets country live act. The back-alley exit of this friendly little place used to lead directly to country music’s Mecca: Ryman Auditorium, back when it housed the Grand Ole Opry. Though the Opry moved in 1975, Ryman is now a National Historic Landmark, and Tootsie’s enjoys pretty legendary status as well. Nashville history buffs recount how Tootsie herself used to keep a pot of soup on the stove for Willie Nelson, Roger Miller and all the starving young musicians who frequented the place. Meanwhile, famous artists would oftentimes drop in the back door for an impromptu jam after their main set at the Opry. And any of the regulars who made it to the big time would always make sure to sneak some dollars into Tootsie’s till so that she wouldn’t go broke from looking after a never-ending stream of hungry kids.
The Sunset Strip this ain't--thank God.
It's nice to know that there are some places in the world--in particular, Nashville's famous Lower Broadway (or “Lower Broad” to locals)--where the talent still outshines the poser factor, and where people go out to have fun, not to be seen. Where you can cut loose and dance with your husband, girlfriend, or with a perfect stranger you just happened to bump into at the bar. Where nobody gives a damn what you wear, or how much your handbag cost. Sure, Nashville honkey-tonks are a bit gritty, with hard-backed wood chairs and cement floors and decor that's approximately as scuffed-up as the clientele. Obviously, no 'celeb decorators' or architects have been let loose in these places with million-dollar design budgets to blow. And there are no velvet ropes or VIP hosts to circumvent. But the scene itself is humming with excitement and energy. There’s history to a lot of these places—plus, if you’re lucky enough to be drinking in the right joint at the right time, just when Nashville’s next big star swaggers onto the stage—history in the making.
Kick off your night at Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge, where there’s always some kind of loud, rock-meets country live act. The back-alley exit of this friendly little place used to lead directly to country music’s Mecca: Ryman Auditorium, back when it housed the Grand Ole Opry. Though the Opry moved in 1975, Ryman is now a National Historic Landmark, and Tootsie’s enjoys pretty legendary status as well. Nashville history buffs recount how Tootsie herself used to keep a pot of soup on the stove for Willie Nelson, Roger Miller and all the starving young musicians who frequented the place. Meanwhile, famous artists would oftentimes drop in the back door for an impromptu jam after their main set at the Opry. And any of the regulars who made it to the big time would always make sure to sneak some dollars into Tootsie’s till so that she wouldn’t go broke from looking after a never-ending stream of hungry kids.
When we dropped by Tootsie’s, we instantly became best friends with a mother-and-daughter-in-law duo who were dancing to a pretty slammin’ ”new rock” band. I vaguely remember hug-dancing to a Motley Crue cover, though that may have been a partial hallucination. But everyone was dancing with someone (or with two someones)—unless they were drinking. Tootsie’s is good that way.
As for the Ryman, it’s left the revue-style format of the Grand Ol’ Opry days behind and is now hosting regular concerts. With only 2,362 seats, it’s an intimate concert venue—and memorable, too. The historic former church was refurbished in 1994 to elegant modern standards. The lineup changes from day to day, offering everything from classic rock to country to New Age. In the daytime, you can take tours of this self-styled “Mother Church” of country music.
Just a few doors down from Tootsie’s on Lower Broadway is Robert’s Western Wear. Back when the Opry was at the Ryman, this place was actually a boot and hat shop, but about 15 years ago, it was reinvented as a honkey-tonk. These days, you can see all kinds of great local acts playing for tips and drinks all night. Though the stage is small, the dance floor can accommodate quite a few people, and there’s always room for another friendly soul at the bar. The crowd ranges from tattooed twenty-something rockabilly chicks to grizzled cowboys with spurs and bullet scars. The artists are young, hungry, and not shy about angling for tips, drinks and—on some occasions—a kiss or two.
If you want to check out authentic live bluegrass music, which isn’t the same as country, recent crossover artists notwithstanding, try the Station Inn. This dive, which is in the district known as “the Gulch”, has been a bluegrass joint for more than 30 years. It hosts different artists every day of the week, with the Bluegrass Jam every Sunday. Most nights carry a $10 cover, but Sunday’s jam session is free.
Just across the street is City Hall—no, not the civic building, but a 1500-seat concert venue housed in a former warehouse. This hall hosts all kinds of shows, from grinding metal to experimental space-pop to old-school punk. The only thing the artists have in common is that they’re on the edgy side of mainstream, and that they’re best appreciated standing (dancing, jumping, sweating) rather than sitting down. Though City Hall can bring in seats, it cuts the capacity by more than half.
There are plenty of other assorted bars, honkeytonks and dives in Music City—and since most of them have no-to-low door charges, they’re all worth exploring. Just pop in, have a beer, have a dance, and throw a fiver on the tip jar on your way out. That’s what Nashville’s all about.
As for the Ryman, it’s left the revue-style format of the Grand Ol’ Opry days behind and is now hosting regular concerts. With only 2,362 seats, it’s an intimate concert venue—and memorable, too. The historic former church was refurbished in 1994 to elegant modern standards. The lineup changes from day to day, offering everything from classic rock to country to New Age. In the daytime, you can take tours of this self-styled “Mother Church” of country music.
Just a few doors down from Tootsie’s on Lower Broadway is Robert’s Western Wear. Back when the Opry was at the Ryman, this place was actually a boot and hat shop, but about 15 years ago, it was reinvented as a honkey-tonk. These days, you can see all kinds of great local acts playing for tips and drinks all night. Though the stage is small, the dance floor can accommodate quite a few people, and there’s always room for another friendly soul at the bar. The crowd ranges from tattooed twenty-something rockabilly chicks to grizzled cowboys with spurs and bullet scars. The artists are young, hungry, and not shy about angling for tips, drinks and—on some occasions—a kiss or two.
If you want to check out authentic live bluegrass music, which isn’t the same as country, recent crossover artists notwithstanding, try the Station Inn. This dive, which is in the district known as “the Gulch”, has been a bluegrass joint for more than 30 years. It hosts different artists every day of the week, with the Bluegrass Jam every Sunday. Most nights carry a $10 cover, but Sunday’s jam session is free.
Just across the street is City Hall—no, not the civic building, but a 1500-seat concert venue housed in a former warehouse. This hall hosts all kinds of shows, from grinding metal to experimental space-pop to old-school punk. The only thing the artists have in common is that they’re on the edgy side of mainstream, and that they’re best appreciated standing (dancing, jumping, sweating) rather than sitting down. Though City Hall can bring in seats, it cuts the capacity by more than half.
There are plenty of other assorted bars, honkeytonks and dives in Music City—and since most of them have no-to-low door charges, they’re all worth exploring. Just pop in, have a beer, have a dance, and throw a fiver on the tip jar on your way out. That’s what Nashville’s all about.
