All photographs courtesy of GW Carter.
I’m a product of the Deep South. To my shame, it wasn’t until I was entering the automated door of middle-age that I proudly embraced that fact. When I moved to California during my late-twenties, I resented the fact that people knew immediately, based on my accent, my roots. I had thought that years of theatre voice and diction training had given me the vocal blandness of an Iowa native. Like Peter sitting outside the Sanhedrin, I would loudly and emphatically deny that I was a Southerner while directing, for good measure, some vulgar pejoratives at the Deep South. Thankfully, my days sitting out in the cold hoping that I would be offered a place at the dismal fire unskillfully stoked by non-Southerners were not to last. My pre-frontal cortex finished developing, I quit doing drugs, and learned to proudly love my Southern roots.
Food was an important part of the genesis for my embracement of my Southern good ‘ol boy-ness. Traveling around the country and constantly being reminded by my palate that the house of my father holds much more delicious food than that which I’m currently eating caused me to begin to long for pork rinds and Sun Drop, not to mention a plate of heaping Soul Food.
Food, while an important part, isn’t the entirety of a culture’s imprint, and the South is no exception. As I began to take music seriously, and began to interact with the history of music in America, the South’s deep investment and reward in the arena of music kicked my awakening regional pride up a notch. Most are aware that rock and roll comes from the blues and that jazz was born in New Orleans, and the contribution of Southern culture to the evolution of American popular music forms is hard to overstate. The food, the music, and the poetic cadence of the region’s accents distilled together and created a burgeoning respect and love in me for the Deep South of my childhood. Over the last couple of years, places and people give me a better understanding and appreciation for my heritage. Two of those people have been Grace and Tony White of the husband/wife band Grace & Tony; and one of the recent places was Loretto, TN – the hometown of Grace & Tony, and the site of the band’s Homecoming Concert.
The weekend began with the snow on the ground belying the fact that I was headed south on I-66. It was the day after Halloween, and several Southern states had snow accumulation. That’s not supposed to happen. I stopped for lunch at a local diner about twenty miles north of the Tennessee border. Sitting by the picture window, watching the snow decorate the brightly colored leaves that had just begun to think about releasing their grip from their summer home, I asked the sole waitress if this was normal for south-western Virginia. She laughed out, “Naw, hon, and we don’t know what to do about it.”
But they did know what to do about it.
They met together in a diner, ate plates of fried okra and chicken fried steak, and laughed about losing power to the snow in early November – good food, good company (all friends except for the long-haired stranger from D.C. in their midst), and genuine self-deprecation about coping with life’s curveballs. That was the front book-end to my gloriously deep-South weekend at the Grace & Tony Homecoming Concert.
Since Grace & Tony’s last tour, the band has also included the talents of Chris Wilson on cello and Pete Teselsky on drums – both wonderful additions. Grace & Tony’s music incorporates bluegrass, Muscle Shoals inventiveness, and a touch of punk ethos with a rich narrative impulse that lives partially in the land of gothic. The amalgamation of styles and the panache with which the couple embraces music has worked to create one of the more interesting bands that I’ve come across in awhile. But, Grace & Tony’s ultimate secret belongs deep in their Southern roots and their full embrace of their community as evidenced by their Homecoming Concert held in Loretto, TN.
After a twelve hour drive, I pulled into the parking lot at Loretto High School with just over two hours to spare until the doors officially opened. Tony met me in the parking lot with his frenetic, infectious energy and a hug. Still reeling from my long drive, I struggled to keep up as he ushered me back stage, stopping quickly and frequently to introduce me to crew members and musicians. I realized that Tony’s natural friendliness and his ingrained Southern hospitality meant that I was running the risk of causing him to shift focus from things that mattered (getting ready for the concert) to something that did not matter – namely, me. So, in a quiet moment, which is incredibly rare backstage before a concert, I mentioned that I needed to grab a bite to eat before the show, and Tony’s eyes lit up.
“You gotta go to Riley’s Restaurant. Oh, and order the shrimp! I order the shrimp every time I’m there.”
Tony’s taste in music is more than enough reason to trust his palate, and so roughly one hour later, as he delegated tasks like making sure enough autographed posters were at the Merch table, he and I gushed over the shrimp’s breading.
Once again, I felt myself taking advantage of Tony’s gregariousness; so, excusing myself, I made my way into the auditorium to stake out the best vantage points. The space was well utilized, and was void of any bad seats. I had been given access to the small balcony that held the light board, but wanted to make sure that, if desired, I would have good spots from the floor to view the concert. The crowd, a mix of old and young, mostly locals, with the communal festive air that is the domain of close-knit small towns, had already begun to file in as I made my way up the metal, spiral staircase to wait for the start of the concert.
Tori and Kati Huntley, the talented sisters who comprise The Huntley Sisters, a bluegrass band, opened the concert. Their toe-tapping and head nodding music, that’s as honest a throwback to old-timey bluegrass as I’ve heard, engaged the crowd on as complete a level as that that is usually only achieved by the headliner. A combination of their musical talent, the effervescent pleasure with which The Huntley Sisters played and engaged each other, and the down-home Southerness of the warm crowd combined to set the tone for the evening. It was easy to forget that I was in the balcony above several hundred people in a sold-out auditorium, and, instead, believe myself on my Grandma’s front porch, shelling peas, and listening to true roots music.
Carolina Story followed The Huntley Sisters, and just a few seconds into their set, I was inspired to text my wife, “I love you.” Continuing the family theme of the evening, Carolina Story is a husband and wife band playing alt-country that has been tempered into a soul-smoothness that can only be achieved by performing countless gigs on lonely nights. Similar to Grace & Tony, the musical talent, although excellent, is secondary to the success of Carolina Story. Relationship rooted deep below the hard times of traveling troubadours gives Emily and Ben Roberts a gravitas that demands attention from the audience, and the audience inside the Loretto High School obliged. I’m not sure how many in the crowd that night had entered the auditorium fans of Carolina Story, but, judging by the crowd’s response, overheard conversations, and the line at the merch table, Loretto, TN is now filled with fans of Carolina Story.
But, and I truly hope that that “But” doesn’t undermine any interest my words have hopefully sparked in either The Huntley Sisters or Carolina Story, but, BUT, the evening belonged, and rightfully so, to Grace & Tony. Children of Lawrence County, TN, talented husband and wife musicians, and bold storytellers, Grace & Tony, enthralled the local audience, and did their community proud. Their Southern roots music was supported by a beautiful string section, headlined by the cello of Malcolm Parsons, member of the Grammy winning Carolina Chocolate Drops.
Grace & Tony took the stage to the sounds of their welcoming friends and family. In most good concerts, the audience achieves a sense of oneness bred by a shared experience. That night in Loretto, TN had the energy of a crowd that was truly one, not only in a currently shared musical experience, but because the band was truly theirs, was truly born out of a lifetime of shared experiences that had been poured into the music and shared around the country. Grace & Tony had taken Loretto, TN to the world and were now home. And they played like it.
Pointing to the string section, Grace told the crowd, “This is the band that we’ve always dreamed of having.” That launched the group into a mix of songs that will be on their upcoming album and songs from the wonderful November, an album released almost a year ago (you can find beer pairings for the album here). Bolstered by Rebekah Whitehurst, Daniel Stevens, Daniel Jamieson, David Marsh, and the aforementioned Chris Wilson, Pete Teselsky, and Malcolm Parsons, Grace & Tony filled the space with evocative narrative tales set to engaging melodies and aching harmonies. Beyond the incredible live music, one of the biggest takeaways for me is that the band’s upcoming album is probably going to reside very near if not at the top of my favorite albums of 2015 list. If you love evocative gothic tales of anti-heroes set to well-crafted roots music, Grace & Tony are working on the perfect album for you.
The night ended at the home of Grace and Tony who had graciously agreed to let me crash at their place for the night. I sat at their kitchen table, beer in hand, and listened to Tony and Parsons swap stories of life as musicians. Tony, with a passion that belied the fact that it had been a really long day, preached to us his love for his town and the impact it’s had on his music. I sat there amazed. Most artists that I know – musicians, visual artists, and theatre artists alike – have this unnatural desire to turn their backs on their roots, only to find, sometimes too late, that who they are and what they create is inextricably tied to the family and the small town that they have come to disdain. Not so with Grace & Tony. And that deeply roots their music in a heritage that transcends their own voices. That is one of the key ingredients that separates them from the many bands that I encounter.
Artists of all stripes, including musicians, shouldn’t seek to run away from their roots. Grace & Tony’s Homecoming Concert has reinforced that in my mind. No region, no subculture is minus its warts and past shames; but, every region, every subculture has a distinct voice and offers a rich contribution to culture at large. For years I ran away from my roots, and I was a lesser artist because of my shortsightedness. Grace & Tony aren’t ashamed of the stories that have made them and that helps make them better storytellers than most of the artists I know.
