Recently,
I found myself having to spend several days in Nashville, Tennessee
in the better interests of our sister publication, Tape Op.
It seemed rather pointless to travel all those miles and then
turn around and come home after only two or three days. Ever
since I fell in love with the Örst four REM albums, I have wanted
to make a pilgrimage to their home town of Athens, Georgia,
just several hours southeast of Nashville. So, as the National
Association of Music Merchants began to wind down their bi-annual
orgy of booths trumpeting tools that you couldn’t possibly
make music without (including trumpets) I was in my cruise-control-on-85
rental car speeding down I-24 on my way to Summerville, Georgia.
I was on my way to visit the most righteous Reverend Howard
Finster.
Mark Gonzales cites Mr. Finster as one of his favorite artists,
and among the 45,000 paintings he has done to date are covers
for REM, the Talking Heads and the very magazine you are holding
in your hands. For the last 40 years he has painted and built
sculptures in his Paradise Gardens, ever since God told him
to put his career as a revivalist Baptist preacher on hold and
start spreading the word through his art. He is a truly unique
individual and I was stoked at the prospect of meeting him and
seeing his life’s work Örst hand. But Örst, I wanted to
stop at the North Georgia Skatepark in the city of Dalton, which
was just over the border from Tennessee. And even more Örstly,
I suppose I should mention my time in that state, before I leave
it behind.
My expectations of Nashville were twofold, Dolly Parton and
Garth Brooks and all the largeness that is associated with their
fantastic musical careers. Fortunately, I never saw either one
of them and instead discovered a city Ölled with history, music
(the good kind) and even a skate scene. My Örst, and only anticipated,
stop in Nashville was the venerable Hatch Show Print, one of
the oldest letterpress printers in the USA. they have been in
continuous operation since 1879. Besides printing all the posters
for the Grand Ole Opry and musicians like Beck, Neil Young and
Pavement, they also did a cover for the very magazine you are
holding in your hands. When most people think of the very trendy
Öeld of graphic design, they think of a fast new Macintosh computer
and a lot of fonts stolen from their friends. At Hatch Show
Print there are no computers, and each complete font weighs
several pounds and is made of wood
or metal.
Here, design and printing is a much more physical process, and
judging by the fact that they’re booked up months in advance
they must be on to something. Hatch Print, like a lot of the
interesting places to see here, is on Broadway by the Cumberland
river. Over the course of three nights, I would see and hear
some of the best music I’d heard in quite some time along
Broadway. Bottom line is, Nashville is a music town and DollyGarth
is only one small part of that scene.
Some of the music I heard: Indienet Records is a cool record
store that has punk shows in the back. My hometown friends,
the Groovie Ghoulies, were playing so I had to go see them and
say hi. It’s always fun to see a band from your town play
somewhere far away and see how people react. the Ghoulies rocked
the house! As a super big bonus I got to see the Eyeliners;
one of the best three piece punk bands I’ve seen. they’re
all sisters and have several CDs and 7 inchers out on Sympathy
for the Record industry.
Most singer songwriters suck, but Patty Griffin is the very
real deal, and I got to see her play, a real privilege, as well
as Garrison Starr who’s pretty spunky too. But, the musical
highlight of the trip had to be seeing the Don Kelley Band at
Robert’s Western World, a dive that really is funky near
the end of the strip on Broadway. This is the bar that BR-549
called home before they got signed. Along one wall is several
hundred pairs of cowboy boots for sale. Along the other is a
grill and deep fryer behind the bar where you can get anything
you wanted fried up, so long as it comes from a cow or potato,
along with whatever kind of beer you want as long as it’s
Bud, Miller or Coors. the bands play for free, passing out a
tip jar at the end of their set. Don Kelley and his hired hands
played the kind of rootsy country, that if all country sounded
like this, country wouldn’t have a bad name
Have you ever noticed that when you ask people what kind of
music they like, many reply, ‘Oh I like everything....
except country.’
When you ask those same people if they like Johnny Cash, Hank
Williams or Patsy Cline, they say ‘Oh, but that’s
different..’ Dollygarth has given this town and a lot of
good bands a bad name I guess. Bands like BR-549, Uncle Tupelo
and good ole’ Don Kelley are doing their best, one pair
of ears at a time, to change that. Sitting in with Don was probably
the best guitarist I’ve ever seen in my life. ‘Dime
a dozen here in Nashville,’ one guy remarked to me. Another
left the bar in disgust that anyone this good would be playing
in a bar for tips. He turned out to be Redd Volkaert, who plays
with Merle Haggard and has a new solo album out titled Telewhacker.
Redd was sitting in on the three hour set for fun. This is the
real soul of Nashville.
The next morning as I was leaving my hotel, I heard the familiar
guitar riff from REM’s so. Central Rain and thought, it
must be a good omen for my future travels. But then it turned
out to be a muzak version and Mich¬l Stipes’ throaÙ
voice was replaced by some yuÖ äute player. I didn’t
know what to think this might bode for my future travels...
Dalton & Nashville Park
After several hours of driving through the rolling green hills
of southeast Tennessee and northern Georgia, I found myself
skating the second skatepark of this trip, the Northern Georgia
Skatepark, in Dalton, GA. the Örst park was at XXX Sports in
Nashville. Nope, it’s not a porn store, but a shop and
park that caters to skaters, BMXers and in-liners. Barry Page
runs the place and it’s a pretty cool setup.The backlot
has a street course and a vert ramp and there’s a small
bowl indoors that’s tight but very workable. It’s
all wood, and it’s all fun. I also spent some time street
skating around Nashville on some fun banked parking lots, but
being new to town I somehow missed checking out the War Memorial
Plaza downtown. Square rails and a security force make this
the place to skate, and several photos in the mainstream skate
press will attest to this. Arriving in Dalton couldn’t
have been more different from Nashville. This park is fun and
worth stopping at if you’re nearby, as it’s just off
the interstate between Nashville and Atlanta. It was hotter
than hell when I pulled up and as deserted as if all the sinners
had reformed and just up and left for Heaven. that left me and
3 or 4 skaters to sweat it out at the mostly wood obstacle course.
At least there were no rollerbladers. Dalton also has a small
concrete bowl that’s fun, but is very small. the weirdest
thing about this park is that it’s on an odd slope, so
you feel almost kind of drunk. But, I’m sure that the locals
only use this to their advantage. After
leaving Dalton, I took some un-marked backroads to Summerville,
GA in search of Mr. Finster. I had to stop a few times and ask
the locals if I was still headed the right way, but sure enough,
I eventually ended up at Howard’s place.
Paradise Gardens is an amazing place; a testament to what one
person can do if they’re gifted and motivated enough like
Howard is. And, they have enough time. there ain’t much
point about talking about it, I hope the photos get the point
across even though they only represent 1/100 of the place. I
got to meet Howard too, and even though he’s pushing 90
he’s pretty sharp. In between talking about Jesus and the
end of the world, he managed to give banjo lessons. He even
remembered painting the skater for our cover. that’s kind
of signiÖcant considering that it was his 42,000th painting
and he’s now on the 45,000th.
I managed to hit one more skatepark in Rome, GA but I wouldn’t
recommend it unless you’re very nearby. the slippery metal
six foot mini was fun, but the snake run was like a bad dream
that was a compromise between a landscape architect, a skater
and an insurance company. Whatever, it was on my way to Athens,
GA.
When I had left on this trip, I had made a cassette of the Örst
and fourth REM albums, Murmur and Life’s Rich Pageant,
my two favorites. My rental car, of course, was the Örst rental
car I’d ever rented without a cassette deck, so I was stuck
with the worst Dolly Garth country and classic rock that I’d
heard in years. But, within a few feet of passing the Athens
city limits sign, Losing My Religion came on the radio and the
earlier Muzak version of so. Central Rain was neutralized.
My pilgrimage to Athens was un-eventful really. I was fortunate
enough to hang out with David Barbe, who played in the band
Sugar with Bob Mould and is a Öxture in the Athens music scene.
the entire downtown is only four or Öve blocks square, but within
that small space is two or three clubs hosting cool music. the
University of Georgia, the oldest college in the US, is right
off Broad St., the main street through town. With it’s
old houses and buildings, mellow downtown and cheap rents, Athens
is a friendly and real city. the hype has long since departed
and in it’s place is a city that is vital and livable.
In the end, I felt like I had found what I came for. I had seen
the city that REM had lived in (And still live in) when they
wrote those Örst few albums. I had seen the Kudzu vine, a plant
that grows up to a foot per day, eclipse the landscape surrounding
the town much as it does on the cover of Murmur. I had spent
a slow evening talking about music and baseball under the stars
and the ever persistent drone of insects that seem to pervade
the South.
... if you let it and you will adapt to it’s slower pace.
I still had a few days ahead of me, including a very fun session
at the Skatepark of Charleston, SC, but my trip was at it’s
spiritual end. Traveling solo, I had some good times, enjoyed
some of that famous southern hospitality and met some good people.
Alone, you notice more of the subtleties of a place. The Kudzu,
the Spanish Moss hanging from the trees near the coast, the
heat, the humidity, the sounds, and the pace.
As I was leaving Athens, I stopped to get some gas. The gas
station seemed deserted but open.
The pumps were still the older analog type and there was no
place to insert a credit card.
No one was in sight in the heat of the afternoon, so I just
filled my tank full of gas and then wandered into the darkness
of the garage looking for someone to give my money to.
I finally found an old guy sitting in the shade of the darkened
garage sipping a soda.
“Whatcha’ got?” he asked me, as there was obviously
no way he could know how much gas or whatever I had pumped.
“$6.80,” I said (the truth), “call it seven bucks,”
as I handed over the three bills.
That this could never happen in large city is as obvious as
the fact that only in the southern US could there be fast food
chain restaurants that specialize in catfish and barbecue. If
you are from the south, then this must all seem painfully pedestrian
to you. If not, then it’s probably intriguing. The only
point really, wherever you’re from, is to find some small
reason to leave the place that you know so well and discover
a new place that you don’t know so well.
The journey is the destination to quote one Dan Eldon, and your
skateboard, snowboard or some CD that you really like is a good
excuse to start.
Recently,
I found myself having to spend several days in Nashville, Tennessee
in the better interests of our sister publication, Tape Op.
It seemed rather pointless to travel all those miles and then
turn around and come home after only two or three days. Ever
since I fell in love with the Örst four REM albums, I have wanted
to make a pilgrimage to their home town of Athens, Georgia,
just several hours southeast of Nashville. So, as the National
Association of Music Merchants began to wind down their bi-annual
orgy of booths trumpeting tools that you couldn’t possibly
make music without (including trumpets) I was in my cruise-control-on-85
rental car speeding down I-24 on my way to Summerville, Georgia.
I was on my way to visit the most righteous Reverend Howard
Finster. 
After
leaving Dalton, I took some un-marked backroads to Summerville,
GA in search of Mr. Finster. I had to stop a few times and ask
the locals if I was still headed the right way, but sure enough,
I eventually ended up at Howard’s place.