I meet Brent Cunningham at Robert’s, one of the many bars on Broadway in Nashville. 20 years ago he came to make his way in „Music City“ with his guitar – after years of drifting around the vast country in the spirit of his Native American ancestors. However, the city’s bright spotlights and big stages have always rejected him.
I visited Brent numerous times in Nashville over the course of three years. Brent Cunningham, a traveler without destination, who traded tomorrow for today a long time ago. On the road with nothing but his songs, which read like fragments of a biography; searching for a shrine he has never found. „Here’s to the hearts and the hands of the men, who come with the dust and are gone with the wind.“