(painting by Jen Uman)
Having lived the
first twenty-six years of my life in the same house in Detroit, I wasn't too
concerned about how I would adjust when I moved to Nashville three-and-a-half years ago. I
wasn't pre-occupied with making friends or finding a place to live. I wasn't
even really concerned about exploring the town or discovering what particular
neighborhoods had to offer.
My main concern
was…where would I order my pizza?
You see, Detroit
is the sleeper pizza town in America. Sure Chicago and New York get all the
praise and the hyphenated "style" after their names, but Detroit, as
the hometown to Little Ceasar's, Hungry Howie's, Domino's, Jet's, Buddy's,
Cottage Inn and quite a few other established franchises, offers a variety and
selection that cannot be contained within the confining context of something as
narrow as "Detroit-style."
Without knowing
any better, I was stuck for an inordinate amount of time, eating pizza from
(yuck) Papa John's.
I moved to
Nashville in 2009 for work. I'd been offered a job at Third Man Records to
oversee their vinyl record production and distribution. While at that point in
my life it felt like my entire reason for being was tied into Detroit and my
residency there, it was hardly a difficult decision to leave. Being the height
of the economic downturn, jobs were scarce in town. I had a handful of
immediate family members who were recently unemployed. NO ONE held it against
me that I was leaving…it was as if they knew only good could come from leaving
Detroit for employment purposes.
Nashville's
allure for decades has been the chance of "making it" in the country
music business. Housing offices for all the "Big Four" record labels
(Sony, Universal, Warner and EMI) not to mention the three performance rights
organizations in the US (BMI, ASCAP and SESAC) and it's no secret why the town
is nicknamed Music City. You can't spit in this town without hitting a singer,
songwriter, soundman and a publicist…oftentimes all-in-one.
While Detroit
may give off a reputation of a more "real" or "organic"
music scene, Nashville gives off way more examples of careers in music.
Detroit has just as rich a musical history as Nashville, it just does not have a music industry. There are no major labels, no performance rights organizations, no significant music publishers and subsequently, up-and-coming writers or bands don't dream about moving to Detroit. They dream about moving OUT of Detroit.
Amongst my own
personal acquaintances, I know of 4 people who've left southeastern Michigan in
the past two years specifically for music business jobs in Nashville.
In July of 1999
a rock band called the Starlite Desperation moved from their hometown of
Salinas, California to Detroit. This was, by all accounts, completely unheard
of. Bands had made their way to Detroit in the past, but most of the time they
were moving from Lansing, or if you want to get really exotic, Toledo.
To quote Dan
Kroha (of seminal garage punk band the Gories) on Starlite's move, "I
wanted to give them the key to the city."
Unfortunately,
Starlite Desperation imploded and just over a year later the principles had
moved back to the West Coast, tails between their legs. They'd just missed out
on the press boon behind the White Stripes, Electric 6, Detroit Cobras and (my
band) the Dirtbombs that would kick up in England and propel many Detroit bands
on to unqualified success (the Stripes), fluke-y top ten hits (Electric 6) or
sustenance touring/recording (basically everybody else). Even at the height of
Detroit's center-of-the-rock-and-roll-world reputation (roughly the summer of
2003), there failed to be any
noticeable bands picking up their stakes and setting up camp in town.
There are two
things recently drawing folks in to relocate to Detroit. One is best
exemplified by a quote from Patti Smith. When asked if it was still possible
for young artists to move to NYC and find their way to fame, Smith replied,
"New York has closed itself off to the young and struggling. But there are
other cities." Her first suggestion? "Detroit."
One of the few
(only?) upsides of the absolute hit Detroit took in the economic downturn is
the fact that its extremely low cost of living became a selling point. Artists
did start to show up, even if only in drips and drabs, to set up studios, reclaim
empty buildings, to work on their own terms in a city where space and privacy
are plentiful and oversight or bureaucratic interference is rarely a concern.
At the same
time, Nashville is experiencing an unprecedented up-tick in young, creative transplants.
The city claims among its residents international rock stars like Jack White
(my boss/uncle), the Black Keys, Ke$ha, Kid Rock and all the Kings of Leon. For a town famously known for
country music, the populace is undeniably diversifying. Hell, neighbors I've
had at two different houses I've lived in here include a touring member of the
B-52's and the tour manager that famously set Graham Parsons' body on fire at
Joshua Tree in 1973.
The main
difference I've noticed between Nashville and Detroit is an issue of birthright
versus selection. Detroit is, for the most part, a locale that befalls people.
Very few of its residents made a conscious effort to relocate there. What this
charges the population with is a shared "we're all in this together"
attitude.
In Nashville, it
seems 1 in 10 people I meet are "from here" (where "here"
is considered the metropolitan area) and a scant 1 in 20 are actually from the
city. As a magnet, a destination, the folks I meet have all come to this town
with an agenda. Whether it's to make it as a country singer, to get the hell
out of Alabama, or to attend one of the city's many respectable universities.
While the idea
of folks coming from all over to make this city their home is a nice idea, it
also has a downside. A lot of people, myself included, don't plan on staying
here. It's a stopping off point, a means to an end, a place where few have a
solid connection to their neighborhood
I'm surprised
when people here tell me to be careful in East Nashville…that it can be
dangerous. When I inform them I'm from Detroit, their response is usually along
the lines of "Oh, you'll be fine. You might get your lawn mower stolen
once in ten years." And while the inherent racism in a city with a statue
of Nathan Bedford Forrest and a history of slave trading can seem as mere
remnants of history, to have someone use the word "nigger" to me in
the middle of a business transaction was absolutely dumbfounding.
To hear the
phrase "I'm not racist…" immediately followed by "I love Charley
Pride" is all one needs to know that things in this town can be
uncomfortably white.
I've been told
that at one point, in the 1990's, EVERY house in East Nashville was selling
crack. To now, where it seems like every house actively donates to the local
NPR station, that's a pretty impressive turnaround.
When I drive
around East Nashville now, from its organic butcher, record store located
inside a house, mixologist bars and plethora of food trucks, I can't help but
think this is what Williamsburg in Brooklyn looked like in 2001…like a hipster
bomb ready to explode at any moment. Far too many neighborhoods in Detroit look
like actual bombs have exploded there and the majority of entrepreneurship I
encounter there is usually limited to folks silk-screening t-shirts (almost
always incorporating the idea of and/or word "Detroit") or setting up
Kickstarter campaigns.
These
observations of change in East Nashville stirred up thoughts of Detroit and my
false sense of propriety. "Who
do these people think they are? White-washing the neighborhood, gentrifying it
block-by-block. I hope they rot."
But then I
realize, wait, I'm not from here. I'M the one who moved in here. I'M the one
who people who were born and raised here should be pissed about. In the
meantime, I welcome these new businesses and residents with open arms.
More than
anything, I'm happy to have found two wonderfully warm establishments. The
first, Italia, is a classic, old-style pizzeria has been around for awhile and
is on a nice, sleepy stretch of Woodland Street. While the pizza is greasy and
definitely unhealthy, I prefer it. Italia feels familiar and inviting. It feels
like home.
