Nashville, Indiana is the kind of place you go to get an herb wreath for your front door, a gingham dress for the goose statue that sits in your garden, and maybe a bottle or two of Brown County or Oliver Winery Riesling. It's a touristy, quaint little burg where city ordinance still forbids businesses from having illuminated signs and in general the streets roll-up sometime around nine o'clock every night. You wouldn't expect to see The Killer - or even someone inspired by Jerry Lee Lewis' piano antics.
Take a bit of a drive south, though and you'll run into a place called Mike's Dance Barn and on the night of June 20th, the band playing that venue was none other than Terry Lee and his Rockaboogie Band. I got the feeling I'd stepped back into the 50's, right into the middle of some smoke-filled honky-tonk. Mike's is a simple place - no fancy lighting or grand façade…just a dance floor, a stage, and a few tables. On stage, Terry Lee is every bit the keg of dynamite as the man he emulates. His piano antics are damn entertaining - and if you can stop watching the flying fingers you'll realize the music is as good as if not better than the original.
Two hours of pounding the hardwood is a tiring thing - but you know, sometimes tired feels so right. If you get a chance to see Terry Lee - do it. I promise you, if you have any rockabilly in your soul you'll be glad you did it.
Take a bit of a drive south, though and you'll run into a place called Mike's Dance Barn and on the night of June 20th, the band playing that venue was none other than Terry Lee and his Rockaboogie Band. I got the feeling I'd stepped back into the 50's, right into the middle of some smoke-filled honky-tonk. Mike's is a simple place - no fancy lighting or grand façade…just a dance floor, a stage, and a few tables. On stage, Terry Lee is every bit the keg of dynamite as the man he emulates. His piano antics are damn entertaining - and if you can stop watching the flying fingers you'll realize the music is as good as if not better than the original.
Two hours of pounding the hardwood is a tiring thing - but you know, sometimes tired feels so right. If you get a chance to see Terry Lee - do it. I promise you, if you have any rockabilly in your soul you'll be glad you did it.
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