Everyone always remembers playing their first Nashville show. Seven years ago, on a warm Tuesday night, I played mine. Neither did I know that I would someday lose count of the amount of times I’d return to this weekly showcase as a fan or featured act, and how its community would welcome me, nurture my love of performing and make me want to stay. Neither did I also know that it would all someday end. I sit here resistant to this reality, enduring so much change, realizing that this night that acted as a net for newcomers to Music City, will not be experienced after its last show on September 13th. Though this leaves me feeling a bit lost, I know that I was lucky to be a part of it and I will always be grateful for that first gig.
It was a balmy June night. We loaded our gear in through the front door of the cinderblock shaped venue on Forrest Avenue in East Nashville, weaving our amps and guitars through a dense crowd of blue jeans, long hair and sleeve tattoos. The atmosphere was a rousing cocktail of country punk, rock ‘n roll, with old school soul singing through the ceiling speakers. As I stood there in awe, inside another world, a man with thick, black rimmed glasses caught my wondering eyes and approached,
“Nellen Dryden? Is that how you say it?”
How did he know it was me?! I quickly realized that the guitar case on my back and stunned look probably gave it away,
“Yes! Hi, are you Derek Hoke?” I reached out my hand. We shook.
“Yup. Excited to have you. You guys can go set up now, the opener just finished. Remember 4 songs and then we play right after.”
It was all a sweaty blur. I remember Derek, not knowing me at all, giving me the kindest introduction on the mic, a true show rarity, “All the way here from Brooklyn, New York with a new EP called Final Say, let’s give it up for Nellen Dryden!” We played 4 songs, all swampy grooves with country-rock flavor, all mimicking an older generation of songwriters close to my adoring heart, so early in my songwriting journey. I looked out at the crowd, saw people listening, closed my eyes and continued to ride the rush of adrenaline, connection and energetic responsiveness that only live music can create. As we ended our last tune, off to the right I saw an announcer with a retro silver microphone start to say in the house, “Wow, what great songs! Let’s give it up again for Nellen Dryden.” Without missing a beat, he transitioned to spinning boppy Motown melodies on vinyl, curating the mood shift in the crowd as the next band began to get on stage. I would later come to find out the DJ was named Tim Hibbs, $2 Tuesday’s late night announcer and ambiance architect. As I packed up my guitar and walked out to the back patio, I realized I’d gone from anxious outsider to cool insider in mere minutes. My only other thought was, so when can I play this again?
Anyone who's ever ventured out to see $2 Tuesday knows the real, consistent highlight of the night is seeing Derek and his band play. They’re the torch bearers who always deliver and electrify the evening. There’s Steve Latanation on drums and background vocals, playing and singing with a thick, thwacking soul, Derek Hoke with his crooning voice, singing his finely-crafted tunes amongst his distinct, reverb-drenched guitar playing, and last but not least Mark Robertson, holding down the low end, on his wildly painted upright bass with a certain punk rock joie de vivre. Every Tuesday night, give or take a local organ or pedal steel player, they are there, re-energizing your week with their perfect punch of rock ‘n roll.
In January 2020, I had a new record, promising plans for its release and a new monthly residency at The 5 Spot. It felt like my musical aspirations were taking off. Then, one week after the residency, I became sick with all the symptoms we would come to know as Covid. A month later, a tornado would destroy most of the shops in The Five Points district of East Nashville, and then a pandemic would settle in for close to 3 years closing down many small, historic venues and upending any musician, artist or live performer’s years of momentum towards their careers. The $2 Tuesday community would be gutted as the recovery of live music endured a never-ending onslaught of cancellations and uncertainty. Even today, it’s hard to tell whether things in Nashville are coming back for the better or the worse. There is a creative working class that is struggling to survive and it’s unclear if this is related to the recovery of the pandemic, or if outside wealthy investors and gentrifiers looking for cheap real estate, have no real intention of preserving these venues and uplifting the communities that make this city what it’s known for. And we would kidding ourselves to think anyone is going to host another night of music for $2 at the door and $2 beers at the bar.
As someone who has been slowly carving out their place here, I’ve come to understand that there are many ways to approach a rich, albeit frugal, life pursuing music. Will you hunker down, work on your craft, save up every penny you earn scooping ice-cream so you can make records (Just me..?)? Or will you be hungry to collaborate with other humans, form a band, learn to engineer and co-write some songs? Or could you be yearning for the road, ferociously booking dates, sleeping on stranger’s couches, working up to an opening slot for a band on the next tier up? There’s no one way to go about it and every Tuesday night I was able to witness different iterations of music’s call, embodied in its forms of band and singer, the novice and seasoned, local and touring act, while connecting to a community of like-minded seekers.
We should all be absolutely tipping our hats and many thanks to Derek, Tim and The 5 Spot crew for running a wildly successful, communal experience of music that shepherded so many local and touring acts through the East Nashville pipeline for so many years. $2 Tuesday was the beating heart of East Nashville for so long and although the pandemic has left its destination unknown, I know that those connections will be some of my closest friends forever.
Looking back on those late nights in a dark dive on Forrest Avenue, one song lyric comes to mind. One that Derek and his band sung every Tuesday night for the past 10 years,
I’ve been chasing down my headlights
Wondering where their going to lead
Maybe out to Colorado, On down to New Orleans
Well have you ever been stuck in North Dakota,
Oh man it gets cold,
No permanent direction,
** I’ll be playing the last $2 Tuesday during the week of Americanafest, on Tuesday 9/13 at 8pm. Hope to see some locals there <3