But you keep on comin’ back, bro-dog! When we started this blog on Aug. 23, 2006, we’d long missed the bite of NashvilleZine, a lazy curmudgeon’s utopia where every local band was ripe for nitpicking, where rumors flew unchecked, where off-the-cuff observations about the cornucopia of local rock music fare would lead to navel-gazing, heated debates, unfounded snipes and hilarious assertions.
We’ve come pretty close to the glory if we do say so ourselves, only without the luxury of anonymity. Over the months, we’ve provoked your ire (see any post about The Pink Spiders, Movement Nashville, rock fashion or dance parties), given you breaking news on secret shows (The White Stripes, thank you very much), fanned the flames of your delicate discontent and even engaged you in some of our sillier whims (I would eat a [blank] if [blank] would play here).
But in the end, we know just how many of you have a vested interest in this racket. And we hope that through the thinly veiled snark, you see that we’re really proudly holding up this here thing we call the local rock scene, carrying the torch of some of the best music around. You know—sometimes. And that’s a lot, considering this blog is run by only five people with other full-time jobs (and in one case, with a kid). So join us this Saturday at the Mercy Lounge to celebrate the beauty of our dysfunction. We’ve made the cover cheap and the booze cheaper, because we know we need you more than you need us. Well, not really, ’cause we’ve got other jobs. But come anyway.
And, in honor of a year under our (white studded) belts, I’ve asked a couple of those contributors to wax nostalgic about these past 12 months.
Lee Stabert: Looking back over a year’s worth of my posts on Nashville Cream made a few facts abundantly clear: I really, really like the Drive-By Truckers, I watch way too much TV (and make far too many insidery LOST jokes) and Ethan Opelt from Movement Nashville kinda hates my guts. Now that we are in more placid times, it is fun to recall the epic threads, pouty recriminations and didactic digital lectures inspired by the mere mention of the “MN” word. Well, now we know: Movement Nashville didn’t take over the world, or even the local music scene. Many things changed this year—Richie Kirkpatrick cut his hair, Exit/In got a liquor license, De Novo Dahl became labelmates with Nickelback—but mostly things sorta stayed the same, and maybe that’s A-OK. Oh, one more thing: Ethan, find me on Saturday and I’ll buy you a beer—they’re only a dollar, right?
Matt Sullivan: Wait, there’s a birthday party for the Cream? Was anyone going to tell me? I’m guessing the email just got stuck somewhere in my spam folder. I mean, I check that thing pretty incessantly, but I suppose something could have fallen through the cracks. You know how Gmail is. So the party’s this Saturday—did they know I’d be out of town? What are the other writers saying about me? They like me, right? Did you read that thing I wrote about all those bad band names? I thought it was pretty good, no? What about that time that I said that Grand Palace was putting out a Superchunk album when they were really putting out a Velcro Stars album? What I was really saying was Velcro Stars sometimes sound a lot like Superchunk. Get it? That’s snarky. That’s what you jerks want, right? This is all that Lee Stabert asshole’s fault, isn’t it? I’ve had a problem with that dude since day one. Wait—what’s that? Lee’s a girl? Shit.
Steve Haruch, Cream Master: After a year of reading (and writing for) Nashville Cream, I’ve learned that there are two kinds of people in this town: people who are right about everything, and idiots. You’re either one or the other. Guess which one. Secondly, I’ve learned that a good way to inspire scorn and derision from your fellow Nashvillians is to try organizing something that’s intended to be fun. Dance party fundraiser? You’re a stupid hipster! A sing-along in the park to one of your favorite albums? Loser!
Furthermore, Nashville is full of musicians, a fact that conveniently explains everything from why “indie” bands suck to why people who supposedly don’t think twice about how people dress—because they’re too busy being musicians—have the moral high ground when criticizing the way people dress on a local blog. Which they are apparently not too busy being musicians to do.
But the most important thing I’ve learned is that “there’s no accounting for taste” makes for a boring—and short—comment thread. So keep it coming.