One of the best things about live music, and one of the reasons people go back to see the same bands time and again, is the sense that each show represents a unique moment of connection between the audience and band.
Last week, my belief in that romantic notion was winged slightly during an Old Crow Medicine Show performance in Louisville, Ky.
Casey PhillipsDon’t be misled by the following diatribe, because I love the Nashville-based Americana troupe, whose sound is raw, joyous and free of guile. I love and respect them for that, and you should definitely go see them Wednesday when they play a double bill with Brandi Carlile and Secret Sisters at Memorial Auditorium.
Part of my adoration for Old Crow – and the root of my forthcoming rant – is wrapped up in lead singer/fiddler Ketch Secor. He is quite possibly the most folksily eloquent speakers I’ve ever interviewed, and he always seems informed about Chattanooga culture to an almost eerie degree.
For example, here’s a quote from Secor during our 2014 interview about his thrill over the band being made members of the Grand Ole Opry:
“It’s like being Miss Teen USA and making your appearance at Northgate Mall and then going across town to get to Hamilton Place while trying to keep your sash and crown pristine on the ride over.”
During the same phone call, he brought up the Chattanooga Choo Choo, our high-speed Internet and regional locations like Ooltewah and Cleveland.
Until my wife and I saw the band play underneath the star-studded, azure “sky” of the Louisville Palace Theater, I thought Chattanooga held a special place in Secor’s heart.
Throughout the show, however, he made the same kind of references, only with a Louisville-specific bent, whether it was to hot browns and Bullitt County bourbon or Muhammad Ali. Obviously, name-dropping works because, just like in Chattanooga, the Kentuckians ate it up.
It’s a foolish – some might say naive – notion to think Secor’s Scenic City nods would be a special case. The singer even told me he performs the same “shuck and jive” when doing interviews in North Dakota “just with a more Norwegian surname.”
But there’s knowing a thing and there’s experiencing it firsthand.
If you only see Old Crow once, it’s easy to buy into the illusion that the band’s love of your city is unique. See the same song and dance performed two towns over and with slightly different steps, however, and it’ll whip the rose-tinted glasses clean off your face.
Again, I love Old Crow, and I’ll happily keep taking my medicine, but part of me knows there’s a bit of snake oil in the mix.
Contact Casey Phillips at cphillips@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6205. Follow him on Twitter at @PhillipsCTFP.