Meet our new Photo Diary section, where we ask musicians, both local and passing through, to document their time in time in Nashville through a series of iPhone snaps. Up first: Kristin Diable, a singer out of New Orleans, whose moody vocals emote a living, breathing soul of the south with each swampy low note or high warble, laced together with melodies that conjure both visions of the dirty Delta and dirtier nights in the Big Easy. We love the way she’s able to effortlessly shuffle between jazz, roots and blues, firing up her songs with a pen that’s clearly studied plenty of Bob Dylan, unafraid to hit hard with a cutting point of view. Take the lyrics from “Water Keeps Rising”: “Give us good schooling systems, equal opportunity,” she sings. “So the working men can keep on working and not dying from this inequity. And if this water keeps rising, we’re all going down.” We love a good tune that’s brave to make a point: set it to horns, and we’re putty in your hands.
Here’s Kristin’s Nashville Photo diary….and catch her March 10th back in town at the Basement. Click on through…
I’m a big fan of music city. My grandmother lived here when I was growing up and I’d come to visit for a week or two each summer. Back then it was just shopping malls and bowling alleys we frequented, which at 11 years old was awesome, but it’s also been cool to rediscover the city as a musician and as a grown up. Our friend and one of my mangers at Thirty Tigers, Matt Bury, took us under his wing and saw to it that we got where we needed to go and didn’t get into TOO much trouble along the way (thanks Matt). Here are a few highlights that I actually got photos of (rollerblading to disco songs in Matt’s attic unfortunately did not make the cut):
Barista Parlour/Fuselage ::: Stopped by Fuselage, which had some great antiques and treasures, as well as a performances stage which the owner/musician cajoled me up onto to play. So much for a day off in Nashville. It was a fun afternoon. Accidentally happened upon the coffee shop behind the place, Barista Parlour. Being a new motorcyle rider, I was drawn in by the beautiful vintage bikes out front (and inside). Had a great coffee made by a meticulous guy who probably spent more time on his moustache grooming than I do on my hair and makeup combined. Nashville sure is hip these days…
Bikes at Barista.
The Basement ::: My tour mate, Julia Haltigan and I kicked off our Nashville trip with a show here. I’ve been here many times before when in town, to see other bands play, but this was my first time hopping on stage. Such a great room and vibe. Can’t wait to get back and play there next time.
Full Moon ::: My friend Tony Martinez is a recent Nashville transplant from Phoenix, Arizona. He’s a honkytonker through and through and we (Julia, Matt and me) had the chance to make the necessary pilgrimage to Broadway to see him play a graveyard shift at a club. I’d only heard him play before with a friend’s band, not as a lead man. It’s safe to say that all of us were pretty blown away by his bad-ass-ness….and remember, we’re all jaded musicians/music industry people, we usually hate music all together. 😉
Bolton’s ::: Good lord. Matt’s been trying to trick me into doing this a few Nashville trips now. The time had come. I wonder if eating hot chicken in Nashville is kind of like in New Orleans how visitors have to have a Hurricane or Drive-Thru Daiquiri… as sort of a hazing/bonding process with your hosts. Pretty sure Julia was miserable eating it, but being tough like she is, she kept her poker face on strong. I was feeling the heat, but I guess growing up in Louisiana, where you might as well put hot sauce on your cereal in the morning, finally has paid off… I only choked/coughed once while trying to finish the chicken quarter. Tony’s face was sweating like he was at war on a tropical island, but other than that he seemed fine. WE SURVIVED BOLTON’S CHICKEN TOUR 2014.
Smeraldo’s ::: This place is just outside of town and is like walking into a movie set of The Godfather meets The Twilight Zone inside of a motel from the 1970s. There was only one other car in the Wal-Mart sized parking lot and no one inside except for Biagio, the spirited Sicilian owner who “knows this business!” and has been serving great Italian eats since the early 80’s when the place opened. The food was immense and delicious and he proudly showed us a big hunk of ricotta cheese “I make it all myself, by my own hands.” The jukebox was killin’ and the company was a gem. This is my favorite place in town. Can’t wait to bring the band back here before our March 10th show at The Basement… wheee.
More shots at Smeraldo’s….