John Prine holds court at The Station Inn

The drive to Station Inn was pure comedy. I departed from Ascend Ampitheatre, where thousands had gathered on the lawn to sing along to the catchy melodies of The Lumineers at one of their two sold-out shows. These Americana upstarts dazzled pop-radio fans with tunes from their vast library of work, spanning back to their EP released ... a whopping seven years ago.

I sat back in my Uber, cruised past the girls in jean shorts and boots, and made my way to The Station Inn, a tiny oasis of music located in the overgrown Gulch. Inside the lone-wolf venue, the energy was something entirely different. Something powerful was brewing.

The Station Inn sits now across from an Urban Outfitters and a handful of fancy patios where recent Nashville transplants converse on Tinder dates. Some new monstrosity is rising next door, slowly overshadowing the legendary room. A line of eager wristband holders from AmericanaFest, which this show was a part of, stretched down the block. Amanda Shires opened the music to an overflowing room, performing songs from her brand new record, My Piece of Land. Her all-star Nashville band included Dave Guy (bass), Zach Setchfield (guitar), Jerry Pentecost (drums) and, of course, her significant other, Mr. Americana, Jason Isbell.

John Prine to play 1971 debut album at Station Inn

After Shires wrapped her set, The Station Inn shut down its bar, which I believe everyone was actually OK with in this particular circumstance. John Prine was set to take the stage. Unlike the stomping-and-clapping event happening by the river, John Prine built his career over 23 albums and 45 years of songwriting. His 1971 is somewhat of a perfect debut record, with Prine’s unique and diverse qualities on full display and pointing to his iconic songwriting. His sense of humor, intricate fingerpicking style and, of course, hearty and impassioned lyrics shine through.

At The Station Inn, Prine kicked things off with “Illegal Smile,” performing on the 1968 Martin D-28 that “hasn’t never missed a show in 30 years,” and was used to pen all the songs he would play that night. Phones were scarce throughout the first set. The passion of the moment overtook the desire for proof that you were there (signs up in the venue also discouraged such action).

John Prine didn’t miss a beat during the entire set. He commanded a band as good, if not better, than young Nashville cats, even at the ripe age of 70. He mentioned to the crowd that his wife suggested some helium to sing like he did back in '71, but from where we were standing, he sounded flawless. It was easy to see that he loved performing his new songs to this crowd.

Prine finished off his set with one of my personal favorites, “Six O’Clock News,” after which the bar opened back up. With the promise of a second set, not many folks left. This wasn’t a show that you leave early, no matter how early you’ve got to wake up the next morning. Hell, Mayor Megan Barry stayed for both sets, and I’m sure she’s a bit busy on Friday mornings.

In his second set, Prine flew through a handful of hits and fan favorites, including “Christmas in Prison” and a fun rendition of “In Spite of Ourselves” accompanied by Jason Isbell on guitar and Amanda Shires singing the humorous parts originally performed by Iris Dement. The crowd was one of the most reverent I have ever witnessed.

Walking out of the venue, I felt amused to be on the heart of The Gulch. I looked across the way to the line at Bar Louie and wondered if people were waiting for a Keith Urban pop-up show or free hot chicken. I saw the giant condos curl overhead. I saw the people stream from the restaurants to the valet parking line. I saw “new Nashville.” Here’s to hoping The Station Inn keeps kicking among the high rises and cranes. As for the one and only John Prine, we’ll gear up for two sold-out Ryman shows next week and a brand-spankin’-new record, For Better, Or Worse, out on Sept. 30 via Oh Boy Records.

Tom Melchior lives and works out of East Nashville. Catch him at a local show, drinking bourbon or at Martin’s BBQ eating his weight in chicken wings.