It’s about 3 am on Nashville’s Second Avenue and from a bar near to BB King’s place the voice of Bob Dylan is sailing high above the Nashville skyline.

It’s the track ‘Senor (Tales of Yankee Power)’ from the Street Legal album and I’m struck by two lines from it, “Can you tell me where we’re headin’, Lincoln County or Armageddon?”
I’ll leave the Armageddon bit to George W and take the Lincoln County Road option. I’m over here with a bunch of UK journalists for a special one-off private gig at the Jack Daniel’s Distillery which happens to be a two-hour ride away in Lynchburg in Moore County which used to be called Lincoln County.
The private gig is to be a never-to-be repeated performance to celebrate what would have be Mr Jack Daniel’s 156th birthday, with Frank Black (Pixies), Guy Garvey (Elbow) and Richard Hawley (Pulp) providing the vocals in front of a band comprising such session luminaries as Spooner Oldham (who played the immortal organ solo on Percy Sledge’s hit ‘When A Man Loves A Woman’ and on Dylan’s Saved album). The plan is to let each vocalist do a few songs of his own, as well as a cover or two.
Nashville is one of the 24-hour music cities in the world. In the Lovin’ Spoonful hit ‘Nashville Cats’ from 1967, John Sebastian reckoned there were 1,352 guitar pickers in the city. There’s a few more than that these days. Pop down to Broadway as early as 1O.30 in the morning and you’ll find at least three or four bands already at full tilt in the bars there. Can’t see that catching on in Temple Bar. In fact it’s hard to escape the music, and there are signs of it all over the city. A billboard for Jack FM says simply “Who Stained Prince Dee Purple?” Guess what music they play. Elsewhere I find a poster for Mulligan’s Irish Pub warning us that Def Leprechaun will soon be gracing their stage. Judging by the photo, they’re not a Def Leppard tribute band.
You can also hit the tourist trial and find places with Elvis’ gold Cadillac, Elvis’ gold piano, probably Elvis’ gold chamber-pot too, but then he was a local boy. In some respects Nashville is the kapital of kitsch, hideous plastic figurines of various artists on sale in too many places, but the people are refreshingly polite and friendly.
When we get to Jack Daniels Distillery out in Lynchburg, where they distil every drop of the brand, you enter a different world. Lynchburg has a population of 361 and consists mainly of a town square with a few locals lolling about working a bit, but not too hard, mind. It’s that kind of place, where the pace of life is virtually dictated by the speed at which whiskey distils, and that can take years.
In a wooden house dangerously and temptingly close to a barrelhouse full of Jack Daniels, the band are rehearsing. Richard Hawley has flown in from the UK and is suffering from jetlag but is dealing manfully with it. Frank Black seems quite at home (well, it is his country after all) and is very businesslike, well on top of his game. Guy Garvey is arguably the one most openly enjoying himself, joshing with us about how his mother, having already mastered the art of e-mailing, has now graduated to sending text messages. He seems to find the whole thing hilarious.
This is the first time most of these guys have met and you can see that the younger guys are rising to the challenge of playing with the likes of Oldham and David Hood, who has graced the work of icons like Wilson Pickett, Paul Simon, Willie Nelson and Primal Scream, and you tell that the elders are equally enthused by the novelty of it all.
Frank Black talks about ‘John Barleycorn’, one of the covers he’s been rehearsing. “It’s actually an English folk song about drinking, which is kind of appropriate, but in the version I do we call it ‘Johnny Barleycorn”, he says. He’s working on some neat harmonies for Duane Jarvis, lead guitarist for the show and who did time with The Divinyls. Black is also keen to show us a photo of his new baby daughter. I’m tempted to ask him if he’s going to call her Pixie, but as he looks a little like Van Morrison’s tougher brother, I put that one on hold.
I ask Hawley about references to him getting back to his roots with his solo efforts. While I detect the sound of the lonesome prairie in his new work, I can’t help wondering where the prairies are around his native Sheffield. “Have you ever been to Sheffield? It’s got great rolling hills and great swathes of land that’s not been built on. People wonder why I’ve gone into this music since the Pulp days, but to me I’m going back to my musical roots. My father and uncle and grandfather had huge record collections. I grew up with the music of Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, the Louvin Brothers, Roy Acuff and Chet Atkins, so it’s amazing to be here playing this music in the land it came from.”
Black explains the hectic schedule. “We’ve never worked together before, but that makes it real exciting, working with these guys. But between rehearsals, and doing some filming and talking to you guys it’s been real busy”, although he’s clearly handling the pressure with quiet aplomb. Not wanting to add to the stress we leave them to their rehearsals while we get on with some proper work, tasting some of Jack Daniel’s finest distillations, including Single Barrel and Gentleman Jack, and decide that they are well up to our standard.
And so to the gig. The venue is an open wooden barn on top of a hill near the Jack Daniels distillery, with views out over the gentle dales of Moore County, the aroma from the specially-laid on barbecue teasing the palate almost as much as the complimentary shots of Jack on offer.
When the gig starts it’s thankfully low key, with none of the hyped-up style de rigueur for some US shows. Guy Garvey is up first, this band seemingly allowing his voice to visit places his day job with Elbow might not take him to. He does an exquisite version of Dylan’s ‘Lay Lady Lay’, the original recoded just up the road in Nashville. Hawley follows, cowboy shirt and all, and he opts for Hank Williams ‘I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry’, apt given Hank’s fondness for the hard stuff, and does a version of ‘That’s All Right’ upholstered with a sizzling guitar solo that both rocks and billies, while percussionists Craig Krampf and Billy Block, looking like refugees from the Grateful Dead stoking the beat along. And then it’s time for Frank. From the moment he takes the stage he commands the mike so you know why he was left to top the bill. In a set full of passion and power he delivers the promised ‘Johnny Barleycorn’ with serious intent and the audience whoop and holler in delight.
Work done, the musicians join with the audience in sampling some more of Jack’s precious product and Black in particular seems especially content with himself. Among an audience mainly made up of competition winners are John Gleeson and is partner Anne O’Connor from Ireland. Gleeson was particularly in awe of the whole affair. “It’s been a fantastic trip. I wasn’t a country fan until I came here but I’ve been converted. The backing band was brilliant and each of the guys, Garvey, Hawley and Frank Black all brought something different to it. It was a truly special event to be a part of and to watch everybody enjoying it so much.”
Spooner Oldham is enjoying the apres-gig atmosphere too, telling me he was rather chuffed that when he got the call to play on Dylan’s Saved album it was because his Bobness had heard his work and wanted him. “It wasn’t like it was some manager or agent that got me that gig. It was Dylan himself. He had heard me in Nashville and wanted me to play with him,” he quietly enthused, his keenness for the music still remarkably ablaze in a man who helped craft the ‘deep soul’ sound that revolutionised rhythm and blues as far back the 1960s.
And then it was back on the media bus and time to reflect on a very special one-off gig that it was a privilege to be a part of. As for the Armageddon option, well, nobody mentioned the war.