Greetings from Music City U.S.A.!
Drink all day and rock all night/ The law come to get you if you don’t walk right/ Got a letter this morning, baby all it read/ You better head back to Tennessee Jed.
I dropped four flights and cracked my spine/ Honey, come quick with the iodine/ Catch a few winks, baby, under the bed/ Then you head back to Tennessee Jed.
Tennessee, Tennessee, there ain’t no place I’d rather be/ Baby won’t you carry me back to Tennessee.
Although I’d personally rather be in the canyons of Los Angeles, Tennessee ain’t bad in my book. The first thing that comes to mind about my annual trip to Nashville is “southern hospitality.” The people down here are truly different from where I come from. I try pretty hard to be a “nice guy,” but I could never compare.
Southerners simply know how to treat a dude passing thru. New friends like Michelle Aquilato of the AMAs and publisher John Allen have taken me under their wings and completely sorted me on all things music down here. I honestly don’t know if us Californians could display their kind of hospitality.
With all gratitude and respect, we should stick to our freeways, surfboards, and turntables. So, that’s what I’m doing. Here’s an hour of “Americana music”—whatever the fuck that is. (You’ll know.)
Here’s to one more night. I gotta get one more dish of grits and fall Tennessee tomatoes!
The Idelic Hit of the Week:
Sturgill Simpson – Turtles All The Way Down
