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Nashville, Tennessee

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Bar Guide
June 7, 2007


Have Mercy
Looking for a great bar to see a band? Follow your nose.

by Tracy Moore

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Photo: Rob Williams

If, as Henry Miller said, going to the movies is like a dose of opium, then a good club is a lot like a few Jäger Bombs: it’s an over-stimulated romp where you can also chill for a couple hours—and like any good addict knows, it’s all in the mix. So if you’re going to while away your nights, your liver and your ears, you’d best find a room that rises to the occasion.

In Nashville, there are rooms of the less-talk-more-rock variety where you won’t speak a word that isn’t shouted (The End). There are rooms where you won’t speak a word that isn’t shushed (The Bluebird). There are rooms where you best leave your pretensions at the door, lest you want them vibed (or worse) out of you (Springwater). There are rooms where you and your ears will be reminded without charity that you are no longer, in fact, under 30 (The Muse). And there are rooms where you will be reminded that, even though you’re so over 30, you may as well still be 21 (Family Wash).

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You can avoid all these existential dilemmas at the Mercy Lounge, bar/venue of vast parking, cheap drinks, two bars, three pool tables and good bands. Sure, thanks to some funky ventilation, if one guy orders a beef patty, we all order a beef patty, but it’s a small price to pay for one-stop shopping. To wit:

MERCY LOUNGE
1 Cannery Row, #100
251-3020

HAPPILY DIVIDED Too many bars feel like high school: you walk in, get sized up and spend the rest of the night trying to avoid the douchebags. The Mercy Lounge is more like college: sure, there are still douchebags, but there’s plenty of room to avoid them. And if the band sucks? Take it to the outdoor balcony, where there’s ample seating and a sweet view of the city skyline.

FEARLESS BOOKING On any given night, you might catch a DJ dance party, a hot indie-rock buzz band like Ratatat, seminal reggae act Toots and the Maytals, or a sizzling Long Players set. Plus, it’s one of the few clubs in town offering a rock short-sets with its Monday night “8 off 8th” series, and live-band karaoke. (“Ace of Spades,” anyone?)

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MIXED CROWDS Hipsters and fratitives blend seamlessly on Cannery Row. Nobody really knows your name, and that’s a good thing. 20-somethings mingle with 40-somethings, and neither group elicits suspicion. Come sporting a silver jumpsuit or a polo and pleated khakis and be equally embraced by the fuzzy warmth of indifference.

SONIC MARVELS The sound is solid and the stage is small enough that bands could tear that shit up if they wanted to. It’s elevated enough for the appropriate band-to-audience mythmaking ratio, but low enough to jump on for an impromptu dance number.

BACKSTAGE PASS What most clubs here call a backstage is actually a fluorescent-lit pit of despair doubling as a storage space with a 12-pack of lukewarm domestic beer and some bottled water. Mercy Lounge’s green room is not only pleasantly decadent, but it’s the sort of place you could actually imagine yourself trying to get laid—and succeeding. It’s dimly lit, stocked with a cooler of booze, a couple of couches, a bathroom and a kitchenette—and the occasional chance to smell a rock star’s hair, which is great, as long as no one ordered any beef.

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