Country music weeknights: Brown Derby, Blake Thomas, and Jeremiah Nelson on weekly bar gigs

The cover of Madison country band Brown Derby's 2006 album, This Drinkin' Life, pictures a man's reflection in a tap-handle stand at the Crystal Corner Bar, looking glum between sips of his Leine's. Surely enough, in 2008 the Crystal became the band's home, thanks to a weekly Wednesday-night gig the band's been keeping up with just a few short breaks here and there. For just about as long, Madison singer-songwriter Blake Thomas has held down the regular "Honky Tonk Tuesdays" gig at Mickey's Tavern down the street, with help from a changing cast of friends like Josh Harty, Robby Schiller of Blueheels, and recently, Jeremiah Nelson. The crowds vary from week to week, but both gigs have become neighborhood-bar institutions, nights when the players set up on the floor instead of a stage, get comfortable with the regulars, and try out new songs, covers, and plenty of not-strictly-country sounds. Brown Derby's versions of Buck Owens and Johnny Paycheck songs sit well with singer John Kunert's elegant honky-tonk originals, Thomas has been using the Mickey's shows to air songs from a new album he's working on, and Nelson varies his sets with a loop pedal and such covers as The Kinks' "Waterloo Sunset." The A.V. Club sat down with Thomas, Nelson, Kunert, and Brown Derby bassist Nick Brown and guitarist Andrew Harrison for a mildly smart-assed conversation about what keeps them coming back to these weeknight sessions, and how to get a patina of experience. (As a bonus, here's some further reading on Brown Derby's off-color stage banter.)

The A.V. Club: Both of these gigs are billed as country nights. How do you incorporate your non-country interests into them?

John Kunert: We're learning the Twin Peaks theme.

Nick Brown: The surveying we've been doing says we need more creepy.

Jeremiah Nelson: One night in particular, Robby jumped up on a chair and finished the night with "The Star-Spangled Banner" a cappella, and it was really classic and just totally left-field. Then he did it a few more times in the following weeks. That sort of thing's got a half-life of about seven days tops, and then it just sort of turned into clearing the room, then I inherited the gig.

AVC: Both gigs have the feeling that you don't go into them with a hard-and-fast setlist or plan.

JK: You can't do that. That's one thing about the weekly gig that is cool. It makes you a musician. You're a performer, not just a musician. You've gotta rule that shit. You get that patina of experience on you—

NB: [To Kunert] The what?

JK: [To Brown] The patina. It's a word. You get it on you. You have it too. This world-weary kind of like, "Yep, we got it."

NB: When I was living in Austin, I used to go see this band at least once a month, these all-star local dudes who got together just for a Sunday thing. You'd see all these same people in the crowd every week, and you'd really get to see the band interact. After a while, you'd become part of their inside jokes—not part of the jokes, but you're in there with them. That adds a depth of experience. You get patina on you.

Andrew Harrison: When John says some really oddball shit into the mic, somebody who just walked in is like, "What the hell?" But somebody who's heard it a few times, it becomes hilarious for them.

AVC: What sort of in-jokes do you have?

AH: It's like when John announces we're gonna play a song, but he'll say, "Here's a song by Buck Owens. Suck my balls." And then we'll play a Buck Owens song.

NB: Or a more PG one might be that John and the rest of the band have kind of taken to making a lot of monkey noises and cat noises. There's this song called "Livin' On Easy Street" that has a line about a Persian cat, and we'll make some cat noises and the next thing you know, the people in the crowd are making cat noises.

JN: Another funny thing that happens is, say I don't know what song to play next. Maybe I'll try out a Blake Thomas song because I've heard it so many times and never made any attempt to cover it and can make it through the whole tune and all the words because I've heard it so many times.

AVC: What's the toughest reception you've dealt with at one of these shows?

Blake Thomas: Occasionally we'll get groups of, I don't know, college kids that are like out for a birthday fun-time, and that gets a little irritating. Most of the regulars drink and talk their shit, and whatever.

AVC: College kids make it down to Mickey's?

BT: It doesn't happen too often. But the kids come in and want to bump and grind, and they're just pissed that we're even there, ruining their good night.

AH: Sometimes, a group of people comes in and you can tell they're not there to see country music, but they're kind of into it too, which is sweet. I don't know if it's for novelty value or not. It doesn't really matter to us. It's pretty cool to see somebody who's not wearing a cowboy hat or belt buckle, and they like what we're doing.

AVC: What's your motivation to keep going?

JN: I know alcohol is served, and occasionally you tie one on by accident or whatever. But it's really about the music. These are free shows around town where you can check out some new stuff. Blake is playing tunes that are gonna be on his new record that you can't hear anywhere else, and I've been doing the same, but I don't know if I'm ever going to record again. But there's this weird listening thing that's been happening that I never see anywhere else around town. It varies night to night, but some nights the room is silent and people are listening to the words, and that's really cool.

AVC: Does the informality of Mickey's and the Crystal make the gigs more fun?

JK: I don't believe I've ever been given any kind of direction by anybody [at the Crystal]. It seems like there's some kind of tipping point where either you're not gonna do it anymore, or you're gonna do it for a really long time. I don't know when exactly that was, but I think we're past it.

BT: The staff at Mickey's, same deal. There have definitely been a number of times where at the end of the night, maybe we're trying new material that we just completely fuck up, or we're half in the bag and just playing stupid shit because somebody wanted to hear a Michael Jackson song. The staff don't say anything. "Sweet, go for it."

NB: The more you guys keep talking, the more I think it's like a long-term relationship with a pretty good woman. She may not be the prettiest, she might not be the smartest, but she's loyal, she's predictable, and she's pretty sweet. She might be an elementary-school teacher.

AVC: Is she also an enabler?

JK: Yeah, she lets you do what you want.

NB: But only one night a week.