Nashville, mid-September, 2026. The temperature hovers around 100 degrees by day, and is still in the 90s near Midnight. Construction and expansion remain ever-present throughout downtown and the neighboring ‘hoods: the local joke for the past 10 or so years has been that the city’s official bird is the (construction) crane, which is always somewhere to be found when you gaze up at the ever-growing skyline. Sharp-dressed business professionals dart about, amongst folks who look like they may be visiting from small-town working-class backgrounds, having the wide-eyed time of their lives reveling in the bars and bachelorette buses of Broadway and beyond. Elsewhere, those who’ve fallen further through the cracks seek help on the sweltering street corners and shaded spots. Is this what late-stage capitalism looks like?
Amid this setting, the Americana Music Association’s annual festival is in full swing, across dozens of venues throughout the sprawling city. Nashville has been its home since 2000. I have attended each one since 2003, when poignant reflections of the genre’s hero Johnny Cash were shared: he and June Carter Cash were at the previous year’s convention, but he had died just a week before my first one. What began as a three-day series of talks and luncheons at the host hotel by day and performances at four or so nearby venues at night (the Station Inn, Mercy Lounge, 12th & Porter, 3rd & Lindsley… was that it?), has expanded to a five-day festival across a dozen or more venues and assorted other gathering places. Along the way, I have met some of my favorite colleagues whom I consider dear friends (even if we never see each other outside of this), seen some downright transcendent music performances, tested my threshold for endurance and adventure, and affirmed, year after year, that I am blessed to have found a career that includes this community and opportunity.
I have witnessed an expansion in Americana’s diversity since the mid-2000’s, specifically with more R&B/soul-based acts, and with acts more associated with the indie-rock or “Triple-A” (Adult Album Alternative) formats. Rock has always been included, and rock would not exist without those blues and country origins. But what about rock that’s devoid of pedal steel or acoustic stringed instruments like the fiddle or banjo? What about hip-hop, or jazz? Well, we can have a good, long, heated debate over this, which is exactly what happens each year during AmericanaFest! But those who care about preserving Americana as a genre to help musicians who associate themselves with it should also consider that every big tent sometimes gets too big to remain structurally sound. Also when you forget where you’ve come from, you likely get lost. And I’ll just leave it at that…
The Americana genre was created first and foremost as a radio format, in response to the garish commercial country music that had strayed too far from its own origins. The Americana Music Association and its festival were birthed from mid-90s summits centered around how to attract and unite radio stations, music promoters, and other industry representatives eager to break away from the more commercial interests ruling the charts. Many of these founding stations, labels, and promoters remain involved, with new faces welcomed in each year.
This year’s festival lineup had a heavy emphasis on artists relatively new to the genre and festival. Highlights that I observed or heard about from others included Jake Bugg, Bobby Dove, Drayton Farley, Phil Hollie, MT Jones, Theo Lawrence, Chris Pierce, Ken Pomeroy, Jobi Riccio, Maggie Rose, Andrew Sa, Bebe Stockwell, and Brennan Wedl. More familiar names to the scene that stood out to me included Courtney Marie Andrews, Boy Golden, Larry Campbell & Teresa Williams, Brandy Clark, Sheryl Crow, Sonny Landreth, Langhorne Slim, The McCrary Sisters, Buddy Miller, and Bella White.
Panel discussions this year included one about protest songs: What makes them succeed or fail at radio stations? When and how might record labels encourage their being recorded? How do songwriters craft them? Definitive answers to these questions, like the description of Americana itself, remain elusive. The predominant issues we covered were ICE offensives in Minneapolis and elsewhere, and the climate crisis. We heard samples of recent songs from Jesse Welles, Bruce Springsteen and panelist Jobi Riccio.
The crown jewel of AmericanaFest is the Americana Awards Show at the beloved Ryman Auditorium. Recognition of Emerging Artists, Duos or Groups, Instrumentalists, and Lifetime Achievements give a broad array of artists the spotlights they deserve, with speeches and introductions given almost exclusively by fellow artists. It’s a wonderfully eclectic display, segueing from solo act to large ensemble, and recently discovered names to absolute legends. As such, there are often complaints about the length of the evening, and awkward moments of transition.
From my perspective, this year’s show was among the most difficult to endure on both counts. The primary hosts, once again the duo known as Milk Carton Kids, struggled to fill gaps in set changes by mocking the teleprompter prompts, a few of the performers, and especially each other. The modern-day variation of Smothers Brothers slapstick was novel when they first did it here a decade or so ago; this time it was downright cringe-worthy. To be fair, many in attendance thought they were hilarious, and also didn’t seem to mind the extended speeches or glaring sound issues with many of the performances. And to be clear, the “house band” that includes Miller, Larry Campbell, Don Was, Jen Gunderman, and the McCrary Sisters is second to none, and the tech crews work with incredible speed and agility. One would think the production would be a bit more dialed in after this many years. Here’s a suggestion, in case the powers that be might see this: schedule one or more of the Instrumentalist of the Year nominees to pick a tune on Stage Right for a couple minutes when it’s clear that time is needed. It will keep the hosts from having to struggle so much, and it will give these nominees a chance to demonstrate why they were selected. One or two, sharing a mic, ready to step right up and pick for a bit… Whad’ya think?
Regardless, enjoy the edited Awards Show when it is aired later this year.
Lifetime Achievement Awards were bestowed upon Robert Plant, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers (Chris Stapleton sang with the reunited band), Dan Penn, and the late Dolly Parton. Dolly had been asked if she would record a video of her acceptance a few months ago — evidently she knew then that she would not be able to attend. Emmylou Harris, who had performed in Trio with Dolly and Linda Ronstadt, delivered an emotional induction before it was shown (following an awkward audio glitch.) There were notable gasps and a standing ovation when the Ryman was filled with her sweet voice and smile once again.
During my ride to the Ryman, a new acquaintance who is a performer himself (and thus provided me with a quintessential Music City experience: he handed me his latest CD while driving us) told me that a cemetery right behind the recording studios where we were conducting interviews was filled with various country stars: George Jones, Tammy Wynette, Marty Robbins, and a dozen others. I decided to take a break from the festival the next day, and poke around to see whom I could pay tribute to.
The heat wave kept me from walking around much, but among the 205 acres of Woodlawn Memorial Park I saw where Porter Wagoner was buried, and figured it would be fitting to see him, considering Dolly’s death just two week earlier. As I looked up where his “Garden of Everlasting Life” section was, I stumbled upon mention that Dolly herself had recently been interred on site, too! I’d assumed she was in Sevier County or somewhere more secluded. I know her internment was very small, with just a few of her many relatives in attendance (including one whom I’d met on the first day of AmericanaFest, her first cousin Richie Owens, who is also a musician, and serves as the Parton family historian.) She’s in the mausoleum with her loving husband Carl Dean, who died last year. You can just walk on in the funeral home, follow the directions from the attendant, and you’ll find their crypt, down a few hallways and alongside a window. If you visit, I’ll mention that Dolly would prefer a donation to her wonderful Imagination Library in lieu of flowers.
It was certainly the most poignant and memorable experience of my AmericanaFest week. Sometimes the best festival/conference experiences are the unplanned, “unofficial” ones.
