I almost never do this during a set, but last night I felt moved to hop up on the drum riser and snap a picture over the backs of the Hogslop String Band and toward a teeming dance floor beyond. And the image I got really struck me. A gauzy glow is studded with swags of dance hall twinkle bulbs. A banjo neck and a fiddle bow are trapped in light, and a smiling man in a white cowboy hat is cajoling the crowd through square dance moves. It’s a far cry from a Tony Scarlati photo, but I’ll always love it as a memory of a remarkable night.

My old pal Bill, an exceptional photographer and a dedicated student of early recorded music, attended Roots last night in part because he’d become a fan of Frank Fairfield, the solo artist who opened the show with blues and ephemera inspired by recordings from the early 1900s. I asked Bill what he’d ask Frank if he was going to interview him on stage, like I was about to. His suggestion: When you got in the time machine, what was it like? Frank does give that impression, like he’d teleported forward 75 years. But when we did interview, Frank’s attitude was like: What?

For a show like Music City Roots—that thrives on spontaneity and going against the grain—last night took things to a whole new level. And there was a full house of folks on hand to enjoy it, a butt in every seat and not a square inch of standing room unoccupied. 

Marshall Chapman was born to host just such a night—even though she claimed to have never hosted a thing in her life. She rolled with the punches, got laughs and generally made her way through the show script with untamed rock ‘n’ roll authority.

Whenever you’re at the Loveless Café around suppertime, you know it’s going to be a good night. And when there’s a Music City Roots show at the Loveless Barn, you can count on it. But even after the dozens of memorable nights I’ve spent there since MCR started almost a year and a half ago, I can’t remember one as varied and just plain great as this past Wednesday. 

It’s very fitting Music City Roots takes place in the Loveless Barn, since a good MCR show is a lot like a good meal of fried chicken, greens and biscuits at the Loveless Café. You’ve got your sweet, your spicy, your fresh and wholesome and your guilty pleasures. And when it’s done, you are one satisfied customer. 

Spend enough time around a real-time production like Music City Roots and you’re bound to hear someone involved drop the phrase, “that’s why they call it live.” Last night, it was easy to see why.  With attendees pared down to just a few hardy souls undeterred by what passes for a serious winter storm in Nashville—reports of drives typically requiring fifteen minutes being stretched into three and four hour ordeals were legion—the Loveless Barn could have become a pretty lonesome venue, were it not for the spirit that down-to-earth music can (and did) engender.

Note: in Craig Havighurst's absence, our friend Peter Cooper stepped in for this week's show. Peter has performed on MCR before as a duo with Eric Brace, and he is an entertainment writer for the Tennessean.

Music City Roots' affable regular Craig Havighurst was stuck in North Carolina, starring in a feature film or working in the tobacco fields or something or another. And so the right-thinking Roots folks called me Wednesday morning in desperation.

Stever Kimock performs "Crazy Engine" at Music City Roots 11.18.09