I meet Brent Cunningham at 'Robert’s Western World', 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 famous stages never embraced him. We became friends, and I visited Brent time and again over the course of three years. Brent Cunningham, a traveler without destination, on the road with nothing but his songs that read like the stray fragments of a biography, that sound like the search for a shrine never found.