For Fleming & John, life is no delusion of grandeur, it's another town on the road. And today, the town is Murfreesboro, Tennessee, where a strong and devoted following of college kids from Middle Tennessee State University await the return of their local heroes. As the band's Tioga camper pulls into the parking lot, it begins to snow. Fleming & John have made the half-hour trip up from Nashville to get here, having played the previous night in Bowling Green, Kentucky. They could have taken the day off. God knows they could use the rest, having spent the better part of two months on the road, but they haven't played Murfreesboro in quite some time, and they feel they owe it to their fans.
Ah, yes. The fans. It's 14 degrees outside, and drifts of swirling snow are turning the streets into a tableau of mist and powder. At 8:00, the fans have already started lining up outside the door of Mainstreet, the town's major venue for rock music, and virtual home away from home for Nashville's Fleming & John. The fans arrive early so as to grab the good seats, the ones with an unobstructed view of the stage. Some people have driven up from Huntsville, Alabama and others down from Bowling Green, Kentucky. It will be hours yet before Fleming & John make an appearance. But the crowd has settled in for the long wait. They line up at the bar, ordering shooters and $2 beer. They're wired and happy, and whether it's from being out of school on Spring break or anticipation of the upcoming show, it doesn't seem to matter. Despite the cold and the snow, they're here in mass, ready to rock. After all, they've been here before and they know what's coming.
The opening act, a gutsy blues-rock band who drove up from Atlanta, has the misfortune of entertaining a partisan crowd biding their time until the real show begins. Finally, after a mercifully short set, the warm up band leaves the stage and Fleming and John take over. Within seconds, the energy level of the room rises like a vapor. The surprise of the evening occurs when Fleming makes her appearance, adorned in a Dolly Partonesque wig, like a blonde diva smiling before her adoring fans. While John Painter tunes, Shawn and Stan wander out, joining Fleming on stage. For a time, nothing much happens while the band goes through its preconcert ritual. Up front, bodies press closeer together, trying to establish some sense of contact with the band. One girl from Atlanta gets up on stage and proudly shows the emblem of her heart's desire, "FJ" tattooed on her belly.
Then suddenly, like the calm vanishing before a storm, Fleming & John launch into a blistering rendition of "I'm Not Afraid." And though it's been a long wait, they do not disappoint. Playing an eclectic set of music, lasting about 1 1/2 hours, they go through all the songs on their debut cd, Delusions of Grandeur, as well as a few we haven't heard before. Shawn and Stan provide a solid, rhythmic ground to the music, while John's guitar hovers over the surface, framing and accentuating Fleming's haunting, siren voice. Moshers near the stage pogo in ecstacy with the beat. And though it's announced that cars illegally parked outside are being towed, almost no one leaves. Better to be towed than to miss the magic in Mainstreet. Towards the end of the set, the band conjures up one final surprise in a Sonny & Cher meets Led Zeppelin demented and thrilling cover of "Black Dog" and "I Got You Babe."
At the end of the show, my ears ringing from the final chords of "A Place Called Love," I walk back to my car for the long drive home. Although it had stopped snowing, the streets are silted with white powder. Just days ago, it had been 70 degrees outside and the birds were singing. But on this evening, the only souls doing any singing belong to Fleming & John, and they proved well worth the plunge into a bitter, cold night.
