Home For the Holiday's

I decided last minute to go back to Southern California for Christmas.  I am very glad I did, it was really nice to be home for Christmas and to spend time with my family and friends for the holidays.  I brought the Banjo with me and did some pickin’ Tennessee Jimmy told me not to leave home with out it, so I try not to.  Christmas was great, I was surprised at how many people told me they read this blog.  I ate a lot of food, mostly Mexican since I have not found much really good Mexican out in the South.  Christmas afternoon I went to Adrianna’s family’s which was fun, but it was constant eating, I got there and we had tamales, then there were nachos, and menudo, then they started grilling chicken fajitas, then burgers.  As soon as you’re plate was empty it was time to fill it up with something else.  El viente y dos course meal.  Christmas night I went to Shanti’s house and met up with my friends there.  This has been my fourth year going to Shanti’s which makes it my longest standing Christmas tradition.  The first year I went to Shanti’s I only knew my five friends there out of the 30+ family members there.  I walked in a little late, from coming from my family’s party.  The whole gang was in the back of the house gathered around Mr. Medina who was playing guitar, and everyone was singing.  So when I walked in, they shouted “last one here has to sing a song!”  So I turned around, ran back to my car, and came back with my banjo, and played the rest of the night.  And so began my banjo picking at Shanti’s for Christmas. 

            I flew American Airlines, it was the cheapest flight I could get on short notice.  I had my banjo as a carry on and had a connecting flight going through Dallas TX.  I had absolutely no problems taking my banjo on the plane and putting it in the over head, until LA, on my way back.  There were two people working at the gate calling people on board, a nice lady and a high energy Asian man with a heavy accent.  For some reason, this Asian guy was a carry on bag Nazi.  He was literally taking people’s bags and fitting them in the little bag measuring box, and having people check them if they didn’t fit.  One lady had her purse, a carry on bag, and a little shopping bag, that was too many for Kahn Souphanousinphone, (King of the Hill reference, LOVE IT!) he actually wanted her to check a shopping bag, what?  So he defiantly did not like the banjo case.  He tried to take it, I said “No, I’m not checking it.”  He said I could check it and pick it up in Nashville.  I was tired and was not going to check it, plain and simple.  So I didn’t say “No, I don’t want to.”  I told him, “No, I am not going to check it.”  Fully ready to miss my flight over this, he made me wait and get on the plane last.  “That too big, that take up three spaces you can’t take on plane, stupid red neck hillbilly instrument!”  The other lady even asked him, what his deal was.  I got on the plane, plenty of room in overhead for a banjo, and the flight was just fine.  I don’t know what his deal was, maybe he has some deep issue with banjos, maybe Deliverance hit too close to home for him, or Foggy Mountain Breakdown just makes him angry.  Whatever the reason, I got on the plane and had a successful holiday in Southern California.  Now I am back to Tennessee, and picking along.  I will be back to Long Beach in a month for my birthday, have not decided on taking the banjo with me or not.

Nashville Air

Hanging out in Nashville, you can brush elbows with all sorts of people, and walking around with an instrument is an open invitation to meet people.  I was walking by this little guitar shop by the Station Inn with Andrew, there was a little concert going on inside.  Andrew looked in and said, “Hey! That’s John Oates!” I would not have recognized him, but we watched from the outside for a couple minutes before heading down town.  I have also wondered into Ernest Tubbs’ Records and seen a small band pickin’ on the back stage.  I do not recall the band, but I did notice the guitar player, a true Texas Troubadour, an older man, named Leon Rhodes.  If you ever listen to an old Ernest Tubbs record and he calls out “Hey Leon” before a solo, that’s him still picking in downtown Nashville. After a cold, cold night of playing the streets we headed to dinner.  Sitting at the table, drinking a beer, banjo by my side, this old man named Russ, comes up to us and says, “Ya’ll musicians huh?” “Yes, Sir.”  Then he went on to tell us how he was a drummer, and played with Faron Young for 3 years.  And of course I then broke into “Hello Walls, how’d things go for you today…?”  He had stories about The Hag, and Willie, etc.  He said there was no money in it any more, but as much as I would love to make millions and may dream about selling out arenas and gold and platinum on the walls, at this point its not about the money, it’s about meeting people like Russ and playing “Wagon Wheel” or “Rocky Top” for people on the streets.  That was just one night of busking the streets of Nashville.  I am starting to feel like I am just barely scratching the surface of music in this town.  Nashville is truly Music City USA, and there is music in the air around every corner in this town, and now every once in a while, me and my Nelson Banjo, are adding some plunking to that music in the Nashville air.

In other news, I have been fully converted to a sweet tea fan, it is so good, and they make it best in the South.  BBQ pork sandwich and sweet tea, perfect!  Also, smoked wings are crazy good.  Put all those smells in the air along with a banjo ringing and guitar twang, then, you are in the South, friend! 

First Dollar In the Bank.

What had started out to be a long annoying Sunday, turned out to be pretty great.  Andrew and I had been doing a lot of picking lately.  This week we headed up to his parent’s farmhouse to play out in the barn, (seriously) because we could be as loud as we want, as late as we want.  So, with a guitar, a banjo, and a Mason jar of moonshine we headed out after some gas station fried chicken, it was one of those Southern Nights Glen Campbell sang about.  We played music, wrote, music, it was a good time.  Saturday night I headed to church to watch their annual Christmas play, which was pretty good, there are a lot of talented musicians at this church, as I’m sure there are at a lot of churches around here.  I was invited to a dance party after, and decided to check it out.  To be quite honest, I thought it was pretty lame at first; I had not been to a party like this, without any kind of booze in a long time.  But after hanging out for a while, I actually had a good time with some new friends, and no one threw up or got stupid, and there was no hang over!

            However, the next morning wasn’t all that great.  I got home about mid-night.  Went to bed and all seemed like Saturday was pretty much over.  Until about 4:30AM, my roommates started, their party, loud music, constant shots, yelling, a lot of different voices, good morning…  They never stopped the party, I got up at 7:00 and got ready for church, went to Starbucks and watched Psych on my computer until church started.  They were still going at it when I left.  Now, before you start thinking I’m a square and can’t hang out.  I can, I just had stuff to do in the morning.  And I still love beer, but these are not the guys I want to drink my beer with.  To me, having a beer with someone is a special thing, part of the reasons I love bars so much, is meeting different people and hearing stories, whether they’re true or not, doesn’t really matter.  So sitting around taking shots, with people you don’t really care for, until you can’t remember your name, is not how I want to spend my nights. Some free advice, if a guy is using empty liquor bottles as decorations, this is not who you want to hang out with, and ladies if you’re talking to one of these guys, maybe find a new date, anyone that feels the need to show off that they have finished 20 bottles of Popov vodka, in a semester, you don’t need to waste your time with. 

            After church I came home, took a nap, practiced banjo, then Andrew and I went up to Nashville to jam at the Station Inn.  Turns out, this Sunday was a benefit show for the homeless.  I asked the guy at the door about the jam, and he replied “Every Sunday night, except when they have special events, ya didn’t read the website did ya?” We walked out, and Andrew said, “Dang that even made me feel dumb.”  Yeah… Thanks Jackass.  But, the night was young!  We headed out to downtown Broadway, home of the Ryman, Bridgestone Arena, Tootsie’s, Cadillac Ranch, Wild Horse Saloon, etc. And we tossed the Banjo case open, strapped on our axes and started picking and singing.  We took a request, “Wagon Wheel” but the 28 degree cold, did not work well with our picking fingers, so we went to grab a beer and food after about a half hour on the streets.  However we made out first dollar playing music in Nashville, just one though.

            Side note, When my roommates party it up all night, it’s usually 6 or 7+ guys and one or two girls, (Sometimes the girls from up stairs come down and drink all their vodka and leave.) While, at the dance party with people from church and without any liquor, there are about 6 very pretty young ladies, to every guy, just something to think about.

           

Song Writing 101

The best advice any song writer can give you is “Write what you know.”  Which is great advice really, but it doesn’t really tell you how to start.  In Nashville, song writing is HUGE.  A lot of people make a living as song writers here, and even more people try to make a living as song writers.  I was a member of the Nashville Song Writers Association, for a year, and I learned a lot about it.  Most importantly I saw that Country song writing is very competitive, and a lot of it is “What’s hot right now” This is a little discouraging to a guy like me, because most of my musical hero’s have not had a number one hit for 20-30 years.  Guys like, Merle Haggard, Vince Gill, Waylon Jennings, Hank Thompson, Roger Miller, Tom T. Hall… etc.  As a Banjo player, I am drawn to Bluegrass, I love the musicianship in it, the back and fourth of shear instrumental talent that cannot be faked.  So when it comes to my own song writing, lyrically I get “honky-tonky” Singing about trucks, drinking, broken hearts, and lost dogs, ok not really about lost dogs.  However, I have recently realized that if I am whistling a tune, or making up a little melody, I can usually pick it out on banjo, with some practice. 

I met Andrew McBride at the Church Service I have been going to on Tuesday nights.  The fact that I met him at Church says a lot in its self.  Andrew is a guitar player and singer/songwriter, we talked a little and decided we should get together and make some music, and that is exactly what we did, made some music.  Every time I’ve played with people before, it’s usually trying to play a bluegrass standard exactly how it was written in whatever book I learned it from, which is great, but takes away from some creativity.  The first time Andrew and I got together, he played some of the songs he had written, and then asked, “What’ve ya got?” So I played.  I played Foggy Mountain Breakdown, Rocky Top, and the cool thing was he actually recognized these songs... welcome to Tennessee.  Then I played him some original tunes and we started playing off each other, it was WAY cool, and new for me.  We can start with a little tune either on banjo that I made up, or something he has, and then count it out, look in the back of his Baptist Hymnal, find a song in the same timing, and boom, a song is made.  The cool thing about this is we have instant words, now, we can change these down the line if we want to, but for now the song is done.  The other cool thing, is we are singing hymms that are over 200 years old and turning them into completely different songs.

My Dad always talks about living in Long Beach with his room mate, Tennessee Jimmy Harrell and Gary Spangler.  Not only was I named after Jimmy, (the J in Cooper J Nelson) but musically, he and Gary taught me EVERYTHING I know.  Gary was and still is my banjo teacher, and up until I came to Tennessee, Jimmy was the only guy that I knew that knew all the country songs I know and then some.  They often talk about the old days when Gary and Jimmy would play music out and then end up back at one of their places and pick all night long, sometimes with guys like, Vince Gill, or Dwight Yoakum, back when they were just another couple musicians hanging out.  Now I finally understand what was going on with them.  It’s a lot of fun to play with people and have a musical connection at the same level.  I truly believe that no one can sing a country song like Tennessee Jimmy Harrell, and if you’re ever in Central California (Paso Robles) you need to go see his show.  Just ask around, you’ll find him, he’s famous around those parts.  Now I know what was going on with them musically back then, and I better understand how Jimmy and Gary got to be “Jimmy and Gary” I may have a lot of musical hero’s, but those are the guys that truly shared their talents with ME.  I can already see improvement in myself musically since I’ve been in Tennessee, just going to show that I might be on the right track coming from California with a banjo on my knee.  Andrew and I could be the next Brooks and Dunn, or we could be the next Jimmy and Gary, and honestly I would be ok with either one, at this point I just give is up to God and have fun a pickin’ and a grinnin’!