To an outsider like me, especially one writing from the other side of the ocean, Nashville seems to be two separate cities. The western half seems to be all rhinestones and tasseled jackets, stetsons, and songs about the alone and the wronged driving their pickup truck into the sunset. The eastern half, by contrast, is a more rebellious, more alternative, more anarchic sort of place. East Nashville seems more my kind of place. It also seems Douglas Wayne’s sort of place…
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