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jacquelinj
Oct 1, 2008 - 8:25PM
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Nashville review 9/28/08
Nashville, Sept. 28, 2008. It’s Sunday evening, when all good girls are headed to church, and I’m standing on line waiting for the doors to open at a smallish bar and grill named after its address in a less-than-glamorous part of town thinking, “What has chasing Sonny got me into now?!” Well, I’ll try to describe what we heard and what we saw, and about how Sonny Landreth gave lessons to a crowd of professional musicians that night. It was a strange and wonderful experience, and a little puzzling too…
This time, friend John and I drove only two hours from our home in West ‘Tucky, our fifth show since March and definitely the closest. We were especially excited because we’d volunteered to sell Krewe shirts, stickers, etc. The tickets we bought in advance weren’t even necessary. We had been registered as “guests”. Woohoo! (I mean, how often in your life is your name on a list at the door right under that of Vince Gill? Vince didn’t make it, by the way, but his name was there just the same!)
We arrived early enough to talk with other fans waiting outside. Nashville truly is Music City. Both amateurs and pro’s had come to hear The Ascended Master of Slide, and each had a story---when one of them first noticed Sonny back in 1992; when another, raised in New Orleans, visited Wyoming “of all places” and realized Sonny’s widespread appeal; when yet another ordered a handmade guitar from the same place as Sonny, and on and on.
John and I were wearing our SL tee’s, so we decided to pitch right in touting merch before we even had the first box unloaded. For a few moments everybody listened intently to our promises of great shirts to come, but then one of the guys in line - a local plumber, he told us – loudly announced that most of his customers were in The Biz, so he never paid for a cd, or any promotional material for that matter, and he didn’t see any reason to start now. Were we upset? Au contraire! It was just the opportunity we needed to talk about the Dr. Tommy Comeaux fund for the U of L, Lafayette. Profits from Krewe sales have always gone to support this cause. Learning about Sonny’s generosity must have struck a chord (sorry). Even the plumber ended up buying a shirt, no lie!
3rd&Lindsley is an L-shaped room, with a bar along the short side, a modest stage in the corner at an angle, and many small tables on both sides. There’s an upstairs balcony overlooking the stage, with room up and down for maybe 400 people total, emphasis on maybe. The crowd came early this night, as much for the food as to get a sweet spot for the show. Great platters of huge burgers and blackened fish and home-cut fries were carried out of the kitchen, all done just right. The bartender was very generous with her pours, and the owner was so accommodating and friendly. He rustled up a couple clean tables for our merch display and placed them at the wall between the front door and the restrooms. Talk about a sweet spot…we had high visibility all night and lots of traffic!
People asked the funniest questions in all seriousness: Were John and I from Louisiana? (He’s a former Brit who still has his accent.) Did we travel with the band? (A girl can only dream.) Was I related to Sonny? (What a temptation to concoct an alter-ego, “Sissy Landreth”, but I resisted with the truth that no, just because Sonny and I are both going gray doesn’t make us cousins.)
Steve Conn came over and introduced himself. I was thrilled to meet him and got his autograph on my cd sleeves of Road and Reach. Then Genny B. and her mom arrived! We hugged like old friends and I was so pleased to be able to thank Genny personally for providing this great website. She and Mom are animated and cute as can be, so I’ll come back to that subject in a minute. In the meantime, Steve sat down at the keyboard and the show was off and running!
Steve’s set went by in a blur. I tried to listen, but first there was that giant of a customer who needed consoling because, sorry, we didn’t have an XXXL shirt. And then came a lady who told me all about Jane Brewster, the artist who did Sonny’s likeness on a note card we were selling. Three newbies wandered in, worried that they had paid $15 each to hear somebody they didn’t know. (I talked with them after the show. They are now worshipers at the House of Landreth.) We were able to hear Steve better than we could see him. He plays the heck out of everything he touches, and his voice is terrific. He did slow love songs, fast boogies, and everything in between. For his last number, Sonny joined him on stage. Then came a break and we got ready for the Main Event.
I bailed on John, left him holding the bag, the money bag that is, and plunged into the crowd clustered at the bar, getting a good place right on time for Sonny’s kickoff. Genny and Mom and me were on our feet immediately, so happy to be there, letting the music just take control. And all of a sudden the night got real strange as far as I’m concerned. We actually got shouted down! It became crystal clear that the majority of that Nashville audience had not come to have a good time or to enjoy anybody else having a good time. They had come to study Sonny---like a freaking lab experiment! And they certainly didn’t want to be bothered standing up to do it.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. In July we experienced the same thing at Ryman Auditorium when Mark Knopfler played Nashville. No dancing, please, where do you think you are?! But this venue was so different, I never dreamed we fun-loving fans would get told to sit, stay, and play dead! Genny was shocked, Mom was steamed, and I took off for the balcony. Upstairs I was able to hang over the railing, shout and clap and shake all the booty I wanted. No one dared say a word to me, I’d have sent them sailing. I spotted Genny and Mom downstairs pinned to their chairs for fear of another ugly outburst from behind, but Genny was able to get lots of photos as close as she was to the stage.
Steve Conn and Sonny were a combination to behold, especially when Steve joined Sonny at the front of the stage pulling pure zydeco out of his accordion. Their U.S.S.Z. was inspired! How anybody could remain seated during that song, I’ll never figure out.
I remember Promise Land, Wind in Denver, Storm of Worry, Blue Tarp, Bayou Teche, All About You, several instrumentals, and a Cherry Ball Blues which gets my vote for inclusion in the next cd! There were several more, and every number received generous applause. But this audience had come to hear (watch?) Sonny’s virtuoso performance, Uberesso. And they got every bit of it too, with more than I ever realized was in there! It was spectacular. Sonny positively leaned into it, and finally, FINALLY, the crowd went nuts.
By the time I made my way back to the merch table, Sonny was playing Pedal for an encore and the have-to-leave-early-because-it’s-a-workday-tomorrow apologists were starting to drift away and out the door. The folks who remained were very pleased when Sonny came out to chat, sign, and stand still for photos. A young man from Australia brought a selection of glass slides for Sonny to look at. A young lady, French Canadian I think, was thrilled to tell Sonny how much his music meant to her. A dentist from Dubuque regaled Sonny with stories. It never ceases to amaze me that Sonny is so patient, gracious, and kind with all of us. I still can’t talk to him without sounding stupid, but at least I can now talk. It took three shows before I was able to do anything but smile so big you could see my tonsils.
We said goodbye to Genny and Mom, wished them a safe trip back to California, packed up our leftovers and headed for home. This was probably the last show we’ll see this year, so I’m feeling a little down. Guess I’ll just have to crank up Grant Street on the player and haul out my memories. Thanks for sticking with me to the end. THE END.
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