NASHVILLE, Tenn. _ This was the heart of Saturday night, and honky-tonk singer-songwriter Whitey Morgan had Ryman Auditorium in an uproar.
Wearing a determined scowl and a long beard, Morgan prowled the stage as if looking for a fight. Now and again he'd let his band, the 78's, carry the tune while he paused to pull on a bottle of whiskey.
"We're settin' here in the Mother Church," Morgan said, gazing at the colorful Gothic windows at the back. "Come closer and sing with me."
Down in front, hardcore fans raised their beers in salute. Up in the balcony, they were pounding on the oak pews and flinging fists at the ceiling.
Just outside, Lower Broadway, a.k.a. the Honky Tonk Highway, was teeming with cover bands, club-hoppers and roving bachelorette parties. Two blocks south, Journey and Def Leppard had taken over the 20,000-seat Bridgestone Arena.
In the stadium across the Cumberland River, Taylor Swift was playing to a crowd of more than 50,000. And 11 miles northeast, Garth Brooks was headlining at the 4,400-seat Grand Ole Opry.
Nashville has music the way Willie Nelson has wrinkles. This city of 667,560 has grown so dramatically as a music industry hub, convention venue and tourist destination that if you went by the numbers, the Ryman's 2,362 seats would make it a minor player.
But it isn't.
The building went up in 1892. And although it has hosted orchestras, opera singers and distinguished speakers, the Ryman's distinct character comes from being steeped in six generations of songs about whiskey, love, cars, joy, sorrow, farms, horses, mules, faithful dogs, faithless mates, mountains, hollows, wild flowers and lonesome train whistles.
It was home to the "Grand Ole Opry" radio show for more than 30 years. Now it hosts every stripe of country artist and a smattering of performers of just about every genre but rap.
On this stage, Bill Monroe and his band more or less created bluegrass music in 1945. One night in '49, Hank Williams won over the crowd so thoroughly that he was called back for six yodeling encores of "Lovesick Blues." Johnny Cash first played here in 1956, was banned for bad behavior in 1965, returned to host a TV variety show in 1969-1971 and was mourned at a memorial in 2003.
Now it was Morgan's turn at the Mother Church of Country Music. He brandished his guitar like a sidearm as he sang of lost souls, dead-end alleys, cocaine and old men who never gave a damn.
This was a honky-tonk crowd, more Harley-Davidson than Stetson, more T-shirt than western wear. When Morgan called them brother truckers _ I'm pretty sure that was the phrase _ they roared.
It was a fine moment, and if the people who built this hall weren't already dead, it might have killed them.
