Event Off Sale: Tickets no longer available
David Nail
Sonia Leigh
Fri, December 9, 2011
7:00 pm
Chameleon Club
$15.00 - $18.00
Off Sale
This event is all ages
http://www.chameleonclub.net/event/79225/David Nail

Growing up in a small southeastern Missouri town, David Nail might've chosen to follow any of the dreams that drifted by like the riverboats on the mighty Mississippi: but in the end, it was music that called his name. "I was definitely more into sports growing up," says the Midwest native, "I think I was expected to play in college, but as I grew older I became more interested in music. After my senior year, I had a few small college offers to play baseball. My coach came to me and said 'David, you need to decide where you're going to school,' and out of the blue I just said, 'Do you know anybody in Nashville?'"
For singer-songwriter Nail, it was a history-making moment -- small town boy decides to chase a big city dream -- and a theme that has informed his music ever since. On his first album from MCA Nashville, he neatly bridges the divide, laying claim to his hometown roots while keeping a firm grip on the future, and all the deeply emotional territory in between.
"I feel like regardless of where you grew up, city, small town, east coast, west coast or whatever, there's something in this music that you can relate to," he says. "They might not all be exactly the same, but everyone has those moments; the first time you left home, falling in love, losing love. That's what moves me, what I can dig into."
Nail, son of a former high school band director, cut his musical teeth on a record collection that included Stevie Wonder, Elton John and the Beatles. "Elton John was one of the main reasons I started singing, and is still a tremendous influence," he says. "I think he and the Beatles are probably two of the greatest melody makers of all time." Then he moved on to country: "I 'discovered' country music in the early 90's along with everyone else my age," he says, "but I guess I kind of got more obsessive than everybody else. I found myself looking back as far as the late '60s and early '70s, exposing myself to some of the biggest stars of that era. It was then that I fell in love with Glen Campbell, who is still one of my all-time favorites."
Drawn to Music City after high school, Nail took that first step on his long and winding road, following the music. "I had been to Nashville as a small child but I had no memories of what it was like and obviously had no idea what the music business was like," he says. "I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing." Overwhelmed, he ended up moving back to Missouri in less than a year.
Returning to Nashville two years later, Nail became frustrated once again in early 2005 with the lack of movement with his music career. David spent the next two summers helping an old college buddy coach the Twitty City Knights, a select group of some of Nashville's best baseball talent. "I did it just to get away from the reality of what my career had become at that time, and it was being around those kids that recharged my batteries. It reminded me how free and easy life is at 17 and 18 years old and how truly blessed I'd been, both growing up, and now, being able to chase my dream. I will forever look back on that time and those kids for getting me back on track." Shortly thereafter, mutual friend Brian Wright, who'd recently become V.P., A&R, for both the MCA and Mercury Nashville labels, introduced Nail to Frank Liddell, who 10 years earlier had produced one of Nail's all-time favorite records, Chris Knight's self-titled Decca debut.
Through the ups and downs of a life in the music business, Nail was persistent – and his dream became a realization with I'm About To Come Alive, a collection of songs that captures the highs and lows and the hometown flavor of his own experiences. "I wanted to take something from the people who've inspired me," he says, "but also put myself in there, and just make something I could be proud of. It's definitely a moody record, there's definitely going to be some heartbreak in there, definitely going to be some dark times. But there's music you listen to when you're feeling good, and music you listen to when you're down and out, and I think this is a record that satisfies both needs."
From the second he started recording, Nail was determined to bridge the gap between traditional country and the soulful styling's of a Lionel Ritchie and Ray Charles. "I've got to have a piano player with a lot of fire, a little more recklessness!" he says. Liddell (Miranda Lambert) offered up legendary player Chuck Leavell, who brought his inspired piano into the mix with Nail's smooth, yet soulful vocals to create magic on tracks like "Mississippi." "It's a very reflective ballad about a guy from a small town who's in the city," Nail says. "Very moody and Ray Charles-esque. Chuck went in there and started playing the intro and suddenly I felt as if I was back in those early days of recording. His playing sent me to another level of singing."
"Turning Home" had that same soulful emotion and drew Nail's attention as a demo. "When I first heard it, it was a lot of what I was feeling at the time. I just kept listening to it over and over. I felt like I had always been searching for a song I could really sing, put some emotion, pain and hurt into, and then here was this song," he said. The result is a perfect match between singer and song, with that same church-meets-honky-tonk piano on the side, and vocals reminiscent of another one of Nail's big influences, Vince Gill.
Nail wrote five of the eleven I'm About To Come Alive tracks, including "Missouri." "I was in the middle of a two-year bout with depression," said Nail. "It's without a doubt the most honest and personal song I've written. I'd been in a relationship for a year or so and could sense something was wrong with me. It was more or less me crying out, pleading for her to leave me because I didn't have the courage to do it myself." Along side Scooter Carusoe "Anything But Mine" Nail also wrote "Clouds," which, he explains, is about one of his most recent misses at romance. "The best songs I've ever written just kind of come to me. You don't have a choice in the matter, they just more or less pour out. Both 'Missouri' and 'Clouds' were like that."
With all that emotion going into his songs, he admits he's a guy who's always looking for the happy ending. "This is a confession – I'm a man of many extremes, whether working or playing," he says. "I'm a songwriter, so I'm a sensitive guy. I long for the storybook life." And it's produced a lot of good material. "I think the really great singers and writers are able to dig a little deeper and find that other level of emotion," Nail says. "And I think that's what makes them better than the rest. I always pride myself on trying to find that place with every song."
And it's that moment of raw emotional connection that Nail hopes to pass on to listeners. "I'm more or less just trying to join the fray of good music," he says. "People ask me all the time how I'd describe my music and I say 'Well, I hope it's good.' Hopefully people will just enjoy it for being good music and take from it whatever it makes them feel."
Hard knocks and heartache, good times and bad, small towns and big cities – it's all in his music. "They're all aspects of life," he says. "I'm still growing as both a person and artist, and will hopefully continue getting better in regards to both."
For singer-songwriter Nail, it was a history-making moment -- small town boy decides to chase a big city dream -- and a theme that has informed his music ever since. On his first album from MCA Nashville, he neatly bridges the divide, laying claim to his hometown roots while keeping a firm grip on the future, and all the deeply emotional territory in between.
"I feel like regardless of where you grew up, city, small town, east coast, west coast or whatever, there's something in this music that you can relate to," he says. "They might not all be exactly the same, but everyone has those moments; the first time you left home, falling in love, losing love. That's what moves me, what I can dig into."
Nail, son of a former high school band director, cut his musical teeth on a record collection that included Stevie Wonder, Elton John and the Beatles. "Elton John was one of the main reasons I started singing, and is still a tremendous influence," he says. "I think he and the Beatles are probably two of the greatest melody makers of all time." Then he moved on to country: "I 'discovered' country music in the early 90's along with everyone else my age," he says, "but I guess I kind of got more obsessive than everybody else. I found myself looking back as far as the late '60s and early '70s, exposing myself to some of the biggest stars of that era. It was then that I fell in love with Glen Campbell, who is still one of my all-time favorites."
Drawn to Music City after high school, Nail took that first step on his long and winding road, following the music. "I had been to Nashville as a small child but I had no memories of what it was like and obviously had no idea what the music business was like," he says. "I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing." Overwhelmed, he ended up moving back to Missouri in less than a year.
Returning to Nashville two years later, Nail became frustrated once again in early 2005 with the lack of movement with his music career. David spent the next two summers helping an old college buddy coach the Twitty City Knights, a select group of some of Nashville's best baseball talent. "I did it just to get away from the reality of what my career had become at that time, and it was being around those kids that recharged my batteries. It reminded me how free and easy life is at 17 and 18 years old and how truly blessed I'd been, both growing up, and now, being able to chase my dream. I will forever look back on that time and those kids for getting me back on track." Shortly thereafter, mutual friend Brian Wright, who'd recently become V.P., A&R, for both the MCA and Mercury Nashville labels, introduced Nail to Frank Liddell, who 10 years earlier had produced one of Nail's all-time favorite records, Chris Knight's self-titled Decca debut.
Through the ups and downs of a life in the music business, Nail was persistent – and his dream became a realization with I'm About To Come Alive, a collection of songs that captures the highs and lows and the hometown flavor of his own experiences. "I wanted to take something from the people who've inspired me," he says, "but also put myself in there, and just make something I could be proud of. It's definitely a moody record, there's definitely going to be some heartbreak in there, definitely going to be some dark times. But there's music you listen to when you're feeling good, and music you listen to when you're down and out, and I think this is a record that satisfies both needs."
From the second he started recording, Nail was determined to bridge the gap between traditional country and the soulful styling's of a Lionel Ritchie and Ray Charles. "I've got to have a piano player with a lot of fire, a little more recklessness!" he says. Liddell (Miranda Lambert) offered up legendary player Chuck Leavell, who brought his inspired piano into the mix with Nail's smooth, yet soulful vocals to create magic on tracks like "Mississippi." "It's a very reflective ballad about a guy from a small town who's in the city," Nail says. "Very moody and Ray Charles-esque. Chuck went in there and started playing the intro and suddenly I felt as if I was back in those early days of recording. His playing sent me to another level of singing."
"Turning Home" had that same soulful emotion and drew Nail's attention as a demo. "When I first heard it, it was a lot of what I was feeling at the time. I just kept listening to it over and over. I felt like I had always been searching for a song I could really sing, put some emotion, pain and hurt into, and then here was this song," he said. The result is a perfect match between singer and song, with that same church-meets-honky-tonk piano on the side, and vocals reminiscent of another one of Nail's big influences, Vince Gill.
Nail wrote five of the eleven I'm About To Come Alive tracks, including "Missouri." "I was in the middle of a two-year bout with depression," said Nail. "It's without a doubt the most honest and personal song I've written. I'd been in a relationship for a year or so and could sense something was wrong with me. It was more or less me crying out, pleading for her to leave me because I didn't have the courage to do it myself." Along side Scooter Carusoe "Anything But Mine" Nail also wrote "Clouds," which, he explains, is about one of his most recent misses at romance. "The best songs I've ever written just kind of come to me. You don't have a choice in the matter, they just more or less pour out. Both 'Missouri' and 'Clouds' were like that."
With all that emotion going into his songs, he admits he's a guy who's always looking for the happy ending. "This is a confession – I'm a man of many extremes, whether working or playing," he says. "I'm a songwriter, so I'm a sensitive guy. I long for the storybook life." And it's produced a lot of good material. "I think the really great singers and writers are able to dig a little deeper and find that other level of emotion," Nail says. "And I think that's what makes them better than the rest. I always pride myself on trying to find that place with every song."
And it's that moment of raw emotional connection that Nail hopes to pass on to listeners. "I'm more or less just trying to join the fray of good music," he says. "People ask me all the time how I'd describe my music and I say 'Well, I hope it's good.' Hopefully people will just enjoy it for being good music and take from it whatever it makes them feel."
Hard knocks and heartache, good times and bad, small towns and big cities – it's all in his music. "They're all aspects of life," he says. "I'm still growing as both a person and artist, and will hopefully continue getting better in regards to both."
Sonia Leigh

Loretta Lynn certainly didn't know she was seeing a future opening act when she spotted a five-year-old girl in the crowd at an Alabama concert. As the story goes, during a quiet moment the enraptured child exclaimed, "now that's country, dad!" The crowd stirred and the coal miner's daughter herself spotted little Sonia Leigh, then bowed and waved, laughing, before moving on to the next song.
But nearly 30 years later, that little girl opened for Lynn, winning over audiences with her gritty vocal delivery and bold, disarmingly honest songwriting. Between her childhood concerts and her rising career today as a Southern troubadour were many hard days, battle scars and dues paid. Sonia Leigh has earned every bit of soulful, lived-in authenticity her songs and performances portray. At the same time, an amazing chain of events—and a long list of friends and supporters—has put her on the cusp of even bigger success.
"I'm nothing without all the people who have been there for me," Leigh notes. "I've got keys to just about everybody's apartment in Atlanta because I've slept on everybody's couch. But I've kept at it, because I really do truly feel that this was the calling on my life. I always knew this was what I wanted to do."
That sense of destiny has always been important for Leigh. She left home at age 17 to pursue her dream. "When I left home I had fifty bucks, a garbage bag full of clothes and my guitar," she recalls. "And that's it."
Determined to make it on her own, the teenager took three jobs—despite not owning a car. And determined to make it musically, she joined a band, which fortunately practiced right across the street from where she worked. Nothing has been handed to Sonia Leigh. Shortly after that memorable Loretta Lynn concert, her parents divorced, and she spent her childhood being passed back and forth between her father and mother. Later Leigh moved frequently with her dad as he took various jobs across the south and Midwest. Leaving home was just another uphill battle in a young life full of them.
"My life wasn't the easiest, but it made me who I am today and a stronger person," Leigh observes. "If I hadn't left home and endured the things I did once I left home, I wouldn't have written the songs I've written."
Oh yes, about those songs. The songs on 1978 December, Leigh's Southern Ground debut, range from the boozy barroom sing-along of "Bar"—a throwback redolent of the less well-behaved Nashville of yesteryear—to the soulful Muscle Shoals shuffle of "I Just Might," the acoustic groove of "Virginia" (featuring Amy Ray of the Indigo Girls) and the keenly observed country-rockin' "My Name Is Money." Categorization is futile. Is it country, blues, soul or rock? The answer is yes. Is it southern? Add an exclamation point to the prior answer.
In this Leigh has a lot in common with one of her mentors, Zac Brown, who recently signed her to his Southern Ground Artists label. While he's now a country chart-topper, at one point many thought Brown was going in too many directions to be successful. But Leigh believed. And she was taking notes every step of the way.
"I was watching what Zac was doing and I loved his music," she says. "So if he was playing and he wanted me to play, I was there. And even if I wasn't playing, I would go. Usually he would get me up on stage anyway. That's just him."
Leigh has been a part of Brown's musical family for seven years now, having met the singer/songwriter in Atlanta musical circles. Brown's right-hand man John Hopkins served as producer for Leigh's independent outing Run or Surrender. Like everything else she's done 1978 December is the sound of Leigh expressing her soul. It's not calculated, focus-grouped or target-marketed. In fact, Leigh wouldn't have the slightest clue how to do that. "It's hard for me to just sit down and write and try to write a hit," she says. "That's just not me as a writer. I write about what's happening and what I see."
That's something Leigh has been doing from childhood. Blessed with a musical family she picked up her dad's guitar almost as soon as she could hold it without help.
"When I was 10 I really started being serious and asking him to show me chords, so I'd come home every day and practice after school and use his guitar," she recalls. "Finally he saw I was getting good and he was actually tired of me using his guitar… because I'd be playing and he'd be wanting to play. So that's when I got my own guitar. Then I started writing—I was writing songs as soon as I could make chords—lyrics and everything."
At age 14, a song she'd written for a friend led to a chance encounter with a major-label producer—which, at age 17, turned into a management deal. And though that was now half a lifetime ago for the indefatigable performer, Leigh has taken encouragement from each connection and from each hard-fought rung up the ladder.
For her, it all comes together on "Ain't Dead Yet," 1978 December's lead track, which delves into the influence her musical peer, blues artist Sean Costello, had and continues to have on her, even after his unexpected passing. The entire Atlanta musical community mourned the loss of such a promising young artist, but few more than Leigh, who still visits his grave regularly to hold one-sided conversations. "When he died I pretty much made a vow that I was gonna keep this going for both of us," she says. "That's basically that. I'm not dead yet, so let's go out there and do it."
But nearly 30 years later, that little girl opened for Lynn, winning over audiences with her gritty vocal delivery and bold, disarmingly honest songwriting. Between her childhood concerts and her rising career today as a Southern troubadour were many hard days, battle scars and dues paid. Sonia Leigh has earned every bit of soulful, lived-in authenticity her songs and performances portray. At the same time, an amazing chain of events—and a long list of friends and supporters—has put her on the cusp of even bigger success.
"I'm nothing without all the people who have been there for me," Leigh notes. "I've got keys to just about everybody's apartment in Atlanta because I've slept on everybody's couch. But I've kept at it, because I really do truly feel that this was the calling on my life. I always knew this was what I wanted to do."
That sense of destiny has always been important for Leigh. She left home at age 17 to pursue her dream. "When I left home I had fifty bucks, a garbage bag full of clothes and my guitar," she recalls. "And that's it."
Determined to make it on her own, the teenager took three jobs—despite not owning a car. And determined to make it musically, she joined a band, which fortunately practiced right across the street from where she worked. Nothing has been handed to Sonia Leigh. Shortly after that memorable Loretta Lynn concert, her parents divorced, and she spent her childhood being passed back and forth between her father and mother. Later Leigh moved frequently with her dad as he took various jobs across the south and Midwest. Leaving home was just another uphill battle in a young life full of them.
"My life wasn't the easiest, but it made me who I am today and a stronger person," Leigh observes. "If I hadn't left home and endured the things I did once I left home, I wouldn't have written the songs I've written."
Oh yes, about those songs. The songs on 1978 December, Leigh's Southern Ground debut, range from the boozy barroom sing-along of "Bar"—a throwback redolent of the less well-behaved Nashville of yesteryear—to the soulful Muscle Shoals shuffle of "I Just Might," the acoustic groove of "Virginia" (featuring Amy Ray of the Indigo Girls) and the keenly observed country-rockin' "My Name Is Money." Categorization is futile. Is it country, blues, soul or rock? The answer is yes. Is it southern? Add an exclamation point to the prior answer.
In this Leigh has a lot in common with one of her mentors, Zac Brown, who recently signed her to his Southern Ground Artists label. While he's now a country chart-topper, at one point many thought Brown was going in too many directions to be successful. But Leigh believed. And she was taking notes every step of the way.
"I was watching what Zac was doing and I loved his music," she says. "So if he was playing and he wanted me to play, I was there. And even if I wasn't playing, I would go. Usually he would get me up on stage anyway. That's just him."
Leigh has been a part of Brown's musical family for seven years now, having met the singer/songwriter in Atlanta musical circles. Brown's right-hand man John Hopkins served as producer for Leigh's independent outing Run or Surrender. Like everything else she's done 1978 December is the sound of Leigh expressing her soul. It's not calculated, focus-grouped or target-marketed. In fact, Leigh wouldn't have the slightest clue how to do that. "It's hard for me to just sit down and write and try to write a hit," she says. "That's just not me as a writer. I write about what's happening and what I see."
That's something Leigh has been doing from childhood. Blessed with a musical family she picked up her dad's guitar almost as soon as she could hold it without help.
"When I was 10 I really started being serious and asking him to show me chords, so I'd come home every day and practice after school and use his guitar," she recalls. "Finally he saw I was getting good and he was actually tired of me using his guitar… because I'd be playing and he'd be wanting to play. So that's when I got my own guitar. Then I started writing—I was writing songs as soon as I could make chords—lyrics and everything."
At age 14, a song she'd written for a friend led to a chance encounter with a major-label producer—which, at age 17, turned into a management deal. And though that was now half a lifetime ago for the indefatigable performer, Leigh has taken encouragement from each connection and from each hard-fought rung up the ladder.
For her, it all comes together on "Ain't Dead Yet," 1978 December's lead track, which delves into the influence her musical peer, blues artist Sean Costello, had and continues to have on her, even after his unexpected passing. The entire Atlanta musical community mourned the loss of such a promising young artist, but few more than Leigh, who still visits his grave regularly to hold one-sided conversations. "When he died I pretty much made a vow that I was gonna keep this going for both of us," she says. "That's basically that. I'm not dead yet, so let's go out there and do it."
Venue Information:
Chameleon Club
223 North Water Street
Lancaster, PA, 17603
http://www.chameleonclub.net/
Chameleon Club
223 North Water Street
Lancaster, PA, 17603
http://www.chameleonclub.net/








