The modern glam-metal lifers Black Veil Brides bring their dramatic, riff-forward sound to Brooklyn Bowl on Friday at 6:35 pm. Andy Biersack’s baritone rides twin-guitar harmonies and shout-along hooks that nod to classic Sunset Strip rock while leaning into metalcore punch. They have spent the last decade turning festival stages into choirs, sharpening anthems like In the End and Scarlet Cross into big-room singalongs with plenty of mascara and muscle.

Brooklyn Bowl Nashville is a roomy, sightline-friendly hall with bowling lanes along the wall and a stage that handles loud guitars without smearing the vocals. Set in Germantown, it draws touring rock, hip-hop, and alt-country with the same dependable sound and quick bar service. Capacity sits in the low thousands, so it feels big without losing the club energy, and the balcony rail is a clutch vantage point when pits get moving.

Americanafest packs 3rd & Lindsley with a proper revue on Friday, starting 7 pm with gospel-soul royalty The McCrary Sisters, then the ever-prolific songwriter Jim Lauderdale. Courtney Marie Andrews brings her luminous folk-pop, followed by blue-collar storyteller Drayton Farley, with Arkansas yodel-punk charmer Nick Shoulders closing it down. It is a five-set sprint through what this city does best, shifting from harmony-soaked praise to twang and tear-stained ballads.

3rd & Lindsley is the city’s workhorse listening room, a comfortable, seated-meets-standing space just south of downtown where songs are the focus. The sightlines are clean, the PA is clear without being harsh, and the staff turns a room quickly between sets. Industry folks camp the rail during festival week, but there is still a neighborhood feel. Dinner service pairs well with early sets, and stepping forward for harmonies later in the night is the usual dance.

Shaboozey heads to the riverfront Friday at 8 pm, bringing the country-rap blend that vaulted A Bar Song (Tipsy) from a viral earworm to a crossover chart run. The Virginia-raised artist rides banjo loops, 808s, and baritone swagger, toggling between honky-tonk storytelling and club-bred cadence. On a big outdoor stage he leans into groove and chant-along hooks, the kind of set that turns a lawn into a singalong without losing the hip-hop snap.

Ascend Amphitheater sits in Riverfront Park with the skyline as a backdrop and a lawn that feels like a natural bowl. The house sound carries cleanly from pit to grass, and traffic flow between concessions and the seats is easy once inside. It is built for nights like this, when pop, hip-hop, and country all meet under open air. Early arrivals catch golden hour on the Cumberland, and the aisle becomes the default dance lane once the beat drops.

Backstage Nashville’s daytime round at 12:30 pm puts the hitmakers in the spotlight. Jim Collins, Leslie Satcher, Jon Decious, and Ray Stephenson trade songs and stories behind radio staples for Kenny Chesney, George Strait, Lainey Wilson, Blake Shelton, and more. It is the inside-baseball version of Music City, where a single verse comes with studio tales, wrong turns, and the line that finally cracked the chorus. Elliott Prather opens early.

Day shows at 3rd & Lindsley run like clockwork. The room keeps a seated layout, servers glide between rows, and the mix stays warm so lyrics land. It is close enough to downtown to draw visitors, but it remains a songwriter room at heart, with a respectful crowd and quick turnovers between rounds. Parking is manageable, the burgers are solid, and the back bar is a quiet corner for swapping notes after a punchline lands.

R&B Fest sets up a late-afternoon groove at 4 pm, stacking local vocalists and DJs around slow-burn ballads and slick two-step rhythms. These bills tend to blur eras, sliding from 90s classics to new-school trap-soul and back again, with mic-passing cameos and crowd-led choruses. It is less a seated concert than a rolling party, the kind where the hook that has been humming all week suddenly shows up live and the room sings it back.

The Office is a sleek, midsize lounge built for nights out, with a wraparound bar, low lighting, and a compact stage that keeps performers close to the floor. It leans into R&B and hip-hop showcases, day parties, and DJ-driven events, so the sound system hits with club weight while still leaving room for vocals. Sightlines are best along the rail, and the booths make a comfortable home base when the dance floor starts to swell.

SoCal punk stalwarts Face to Face hit Brooklyn Bowl on Saturday at 7 pm, tightening up the same brisk, melodic charge they have ridden since Big Choice. Trever Keith’s voice still carries that tuneful bite, and the rhythm section keeps the tempos honest without blurring the hooks. It is blue-collar punk built for bounce and chorus unity, a set list that jumps from 90s staples to newer burners without losing the shout-it-back simplicity.

Brooklyn Bowl Nashville handles punk energy well. The stage is wide, the pit breathes, and the mix gives guitars room without burying vocals. With lanes humming to the side and fast bars at the back, it feels like a party without sacrificing sound. The balcony is a reliable refuge for elbow room, but the floor is where the charge hits when the kick drum snaps.

Stella Cole brings her retro-leaning jazz vocals to City Winery on Sunday at 7:30 pm, the kind of set where standards feel newly polished. Her phrasing nods to Fitzgerald and Holiday without mimicry, gliding through torch songs, finger-snap swing, and cinematic ballads with a clear, modern sheen. She built a following online, but in a room this intimate the control and color of her voice are the headline.

City Winery’s main room is a seated, candlelit hall tucked just south of downtown, equal parts listening room and working winery. Tables arc toward a low stage, servers keep a quiet cadence, and the PA is tuned for warmth over volume. Jazz, folk, and songwriter nights thrive here because every syllable lands. The side sections near the stage offer close views of the players' hands without feeling crowded.

Laszewo brings breezy, melodic house to a Friday afternoon start time, folding pop-forward vocals into sunlit synths and rhythm that sits easy on a lawn. Their sets lean uplifting rather than abrasive, the kind that thread flute leads, piano stabs, and crisp toplines into a steady four-on-the-floor. It is feel-good electronic built for golden hour, when a hook can loop for minutes and the whole crowd moves as one.

The Fogg Street Lawn Club is an open-air hang and performance space with turf underfoot, shaded seating, and a small stage that points the whole place toward the skyline. Day parties and DJ sets make up a lot of its calendar, and the sound is dialed to carry outdoors without muddying the vocals. It is casual by design, more picnic table than velvet rope, with room to dance without elbowing a neighbor.

Wynonna Judd and Avi Kaplan share an AmericanaFest bill at The Basement East on Friday, a pairing that bridges powerhouse country vocal and resonant folk baritone. Wynonna’s arena-tested presence turns even a whisper into a statement, while Kaplan’s rich low end and woodsy arrangements favor slow-bloom dynamics. Together on a club stage, the songs land big but intimate, steeped in harmony and lived-in storytelling.

The Basement East anchors Five Points in East Nashville, a spacious, no-frills rock room with a wide stage and house mix that stays punchy and clear. It is the place where touring headliners brush past locals at the bar, and during festival week it runs like a showcase machine. The mural outside is a neighborhood landmark, and inside there is room to move without losing that tight-club focus on the songs.

Colum Tyrrell brings his Irish-born, New York-honed stand-up to The Lab at Zanies on Saturday at 6:30 pm. He lives in fast pivots and sharp crowd work, sliding from scrappy bar stories to surgical jabs without losing the room. The cadence is quick, the punchlines land clean, and the accent only sharpens the sting. Fans of podcast-circuit comics will recognize the rhythm, but the live riffing is the real draw.

The Lab at Zanies is the intimate side room of the city’s flagship comedy club, a compact black box where every eyebrow raise reads. It is ideal for crowd work heavy sets, with tight seating, dead-on sound, and staff who keep the show moving. Located next to the main room on Eighth Avenue, it is where touring headliners test ideas and locals stretch out longer sets, all without a bad seat in the house.