A Knoxville ex-pat learns about the Nashville music industry and lives to tell the tale
by John Sewell
If a book of Knoxville rock 'n' roll history was ever compiled, Brian Waldschlager would merit at least a chapter of his own. For around 20 years he has been in the trenches of the music world, going through quite a bit of evolution along the way.
In retrospect, the disparate pieces of Waldschlager's musical puzzle all make sense. He first came to the attention of the local music scene as the singer for a few vaguely punkish bands including the 5 Twins, the first lineup of Smokin' Dave and the Premo Dopes, and then as the frontman for Wh-Wh with local art-rock guitar virtuoso Terry Hill.
After the breakup of Wh-Wh around 1987, Waldschlager split town to take residence in the thriving Minneapolis scene, winding up at a rock 'n' roll crash pad where he was roommates with (among others) a young Courtney Love. The Minnesota experience didn't result in hoped-for success, and Waldschlager ended up back in Knoxville, going to college, and taking an interest in a more rootsy sound.
College didn't pan out either, and after singing for Boogie Disease and The Dirtclods, Waldschlager again relocated, this time to Nashville. Since moving, there have been plenty of the expected highs and lows of life in the music food chain. But Waldschlager has stuck it out and is thriving at present.
After a couple of years with the Nashville alt.country also-rans Five Bucks, Waldschlager and his mates decided to part ways around a year ago. The machinations of the music industry just ground down what could have been a popular and exciting band. Though he is also involved in two other projects (The Walter Eagan Band and The Brooklyn Cowboys), Waldschlager is now focusing his musical effort on a his own material. His first solo effort, Down There, is just out on local imprint Disgraceland Records, and he will be rolling into town soon to play a show at Patrick Sullivan's.
Though alternative country is a buzzword being passed around by Nashville music biz types, Waldschlager is somewhat leery of the term to describe his present sound. "I really like to keep the description simple," he says. "I mean, it's just rock 'n' roll music with a mix of all the influences I grew up around. You could say there are elements of country, folk, and rockabilly in there, but it's still a rock 'n' roll band with drums and guitar amps. It's just a little too loud to be country.
"I have to say that it's gotten cool to be considered alternacountry in Nashville at this point," Waldschlager continues. "Some folks that have been in the mainstream or were shooting for mainstream success, they're starting to gravitate toward that kind of sound, saying, 'I'm a Steve Earle fan too.'
"When you talk to the major labels, they're always saying that they want [in a singsongy voice] 'something new, something fresh, something edgy.' But really, they're scared to death of anything like that. It seems like the best artists here are the ones that not many people know about."
Yes, life in the country music capital has changed Waldschlager's outlook, but his current sound really is a culmination of the varied sounds of his life as a musician. Imagine The Replacements, Elvis Costello, and Buck Owens jamming together on a hot night at the Longbranch Saloon, and you'll have a general idea of Waldschlager's sound. (For a better idea, go to http://www.disgraceland.com, where you'll find sound files from Down There.)
Though he's been through of his share of rocky times chasing the music dream, Waldschlager is pragmatic but not bitter. "It seems like it's been a long time coming for me to finally get some kind of CD out of my own," he says. "This is the big push for me and I feel like it's something I probably should have done a long time ago.
"Down here [in Nashville], you sometimes keep getting these carrots dangled in front of your face, and that can hold you up in terms of getting your own stuff done. Those are the kinds of things that really stalled out the last couple of projects I was involved with—kind of like chasing carrots that never materialized.
"I feel like I'm standing here with this music that I've lived with for this whole decade, and now I'm just gonna put it out by myself," Waldschlager continues. "It's kind of a small, baby step: I've got this much money and I'm gonna put it out in whatever capacity I can arrange on my own. As a friend of mine put it, I'm just trying to build a record to scale. It's kind of the same stuff you would do for your very first band."
Apparently, the Nashville experience has suited Waldschlager just fine. After six years, he feels at home there. And even though his solo album is on a Knoxville label, he's found his place in Nashville's proverbial big pond.
"I like coming back to Knoxville to visit my old friends and all that, but I really like it down here in Nashville," he says. "It still feels like this is the place I need to be. I've seen a bit of how this town works and I'm not so sure that I fit into the machinery down here. But there are a lot of other people here who are in the same boat. I just think I get more done down here. It puts me in a situation that forces me to do more. There's a lot of jaded people down here, and I don't want to be like that if I can help it.
"I've never set a timetable as to when I should quit trying to have a career in music," Waldschlager continues. "I still feel like I'm doing what I need to do, regardless of all the obstacles that keep popping up. They just keep coming up in different shapes: same old story but with different people. Sometimes it feels like I've seen and heard it all before, but I still love playing music and that won't ever change no matter what. It's a learning process."
June 1, 2000 * Vol. 10, No. 22
© 2000 Metro Pulse
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