In more than 30 years of recording, Tracy Nelson has never tried to coopt passing fads or jump on a trendwagon. That makes her recent success as baffling as it is encouraging. Ten years ago, the renowned blues singer had withdrawn to her farm near Dickson, discouraged by the soulless direction pop music had taken.
This year, her profile has never been higher. She released Move On, a funky, rolling new album of New Orleans-flavored R&B, and her long-obscure work with the San Francisco soul band Mother Earth is the subject of not one but two excellent new reissues on Reprise Records, Tracy Nelson Country and The Best of Tracy Nelson/Mother Earth. Against all odds, her stubbornly low-tech, high-octane soul seems to have weathered the whims of the marketplace.
How did this happen? After all, Tracy Nelson doesn’t traffic in the showy mannerisms blues dilettantes demand of their divas, especially white ones. She doesn’t screech, flail, or writhe onstage; she doesn’t hit notes only dogs can hear in mid-sentence. Rather, she does the unfashionable: She substitutes honest feeling for affectation. Whether she’s moaning her signature ballad “Down So Low,” still devastating after three decades, or filling Bessie Smith’s “Send Me to the ’Lectric Chair” with unrepentant bloodlust, her voice travels a straight line to the listener’s heart.
That makes her appearance Friday night at 3rd & Lindsley an occasion you shouldn’t miss. Nelson prefers the company of her many dogs, her jigsaw puzzles, her mysteries, and her seedlings to the ceaseless grind of touring, but whenever she makes the journey an hour down the road to Nashville, she summons the full force of her concussion-shell voice. If you’ve never felt its power live, show up Friday night at 9 p.m. If you want a taste beforehand, check out any (or all) of the three albums mentioned above. Tracy Nelson doesn’t sing lies, and the truth is a habit worth forming.
You can’t keep a good hog down, which might help explain the return of the Swine Ball. The proudly tacky benefit was created 15 years ago by local newshounds and flacks, who wanted a high-chloresterol, low-cost alternative to the Swan Ball. In the process, the organizers managed to raise some $300,000 for the American Cancer Society. The ball was canceled last year, but a new generation of pigs, led by the Banner’s Jim Molpus, has restored the event to its swinish glory.
The fatter-and-sassier-than-ever Swine Ball will take place from 6 p.m. until group-collapse this Saturday at 328 Performance Hall. Musical guests include Webb Wilder, Kristi Rose, and the Hager Twins, and a silent auction will allow patrons to bid on cool clothes, autographed musical instruments, and lots of celebrity memorabilia. A good time for a great cause has never come so cheaply.
Over the past five years, WRVU deejay Ron Slomowicz has hipped Nashville to some of the nation’s hottest dance music every Saturday night on 91 Rock. Slomowicz is considered such a tastemaker that his playlist is printed regularly in the trade journal DMA; more than 3,000 revelers got a taste of his stash when he manned the wheels of steel at the wall-to-wall Artrageous late party a few weeks back.
This Saturday, starting at noon, Slomowicz is throwing himself a live, on-air 23rd birthday bash, spinning 12 consecutive hours of dance music mixed live in the studio. Some of Slomowicz’s favorite artists and local celebrities will be phoning in birthday greetings, and the city’s foxiest drag queens will pop by to lend the marathon that hormone-enhanced je ne sais quoi. In case you’re busy, Slomowicz will repeat the affair Saturday, Nov. 30, starting once again at noon. And don’t bother listening for his selections elsewhere: Slomowicz refuses to play any track listed on any other local dance station. The request lines are open.—Jim Ridley
One of the oldest churches in Nashville has been transformed into one of the few after-hours dance clubs in the downtown area. The Church, located in an historic building at 629 3rd Ave. S., has been opened by veteran Nashville impresario Tommy Smith and his son, Eric Byford. Billed as “the only church in town with services all night long,” the club will provide dance music, set-ups, and refreshments from midnight until dawn every Thursday through Saturday.
Smith and Byford have spent the last three months renovating the building, which was originally constructed in 1850. They’ve installed new plumbing and lighting and have transformed the space into a high-tech club complete with stained glass, angels, black lights, and exposed ceiling beams. According to Smith, the building’s intricate architecture and original cut glass have been left intact, and the floor-to-ceiling windows offer a grand view of the downtown skyline. The disk jockey’s booth is set into the pulpit.
Smith plans to open a short-order grill in the lower floor of the building, which houses pool tables and pinball machines. He also hopes to expand upon the club’s BYOB policy by installing lockers on the lower floor and the renting them out to regulars who want to keep a bottle or other items on the club premises.—Michael McCall
Elliptical dispatches: Sleepy LaBeef, the Paul Bunyan of ass-kickin’ rockabilly and roots music, returns to Nashville for a gig Tuesday night at the Ace of Clubs. He’s touring to support his new album I’ll Never Lay My Guitar Down, a walloping collection of tunes by Tony Joe White, Big Joe Turner, and others; he’s also the subject of a recent box-set reissue on the Bear Family label. If you’ve never seen LaBeef before, expect inexhaustible 40-minute medleys of rockabilly nuggets anchored by a nonstop groove and string-snapping guitar prowess....
Hot-shot jazz guitarist Larry Carlton heads an all-star band at Caffé Milano Wednesday night. He’ll apparently be making several appearances at the club, which is making an effort to draw national jazz talent. The club’s winter series of jazz shows should be announced soon....
