"Meet at the Ryman" read the instructions for the Foot-in-the-Door insiders tour of Music Row, a preamble to February’s Folk Alliance Showcase in Nashville, Tenn. The approach from Fifth Avenue gives the perfect image of the country music scene here: The old is preserved out front, but come around the back to do business. There it is all modern brass and glass. The charter bus from the Ryman to Music Row is a sobering view of an industry that has passed its peak. Way too many buildings for let where once there were wall-to-wall tourists.

During the educational panels, both stereotypes of Nashville surfaced in colorful array. Take the dreaded suits, the business creatures -- clueless and insincere while trying to appear just the opposite. Close your eyes and listen to their come-hithers, you might see Jim Bakkers and truffle-snuffling hogs float across the inside of your eyelids. Such images arose from the presentations at the major performing rights organizations (PROs), BMI and ASCAP. The feeling was that they would be equally at home selling septic tanks as long as there was a good buck in it. The major-label execs don't bother to show their faces at the Showcase despite the fact that one third of the proceedings took place in Warner/Nashville's HQ.

BMI's HQ -- underwritten, of course, by the member-songwriter's fees -- is particularly lush: hand-painted murals, fine wood and luxurious seating abounded. The crowd who ponied up an extra $30 for the insiders tour had all been around the block a few times. They wanted to know how much of a songwriter's pittance gets skimmed off to support such a palace. (Both BMI and ASCAP wriggled, said, "I think it's around 16 percent" and claimed the other guys spent more on their digs.) For a refreshing contrast, the third major PRO, SESAC, answered that question with a flat-out refusal to state the figure, reminding the audience that SESAC makes no pretense of being a member-owned enterprise. They are candidly for profit, not art. They only license song catalogs they feel they can sell profitably, primarily to film and TV productions that guarantee substantial returns.

Our genial tour guide is "Perfesser" Paul Schatzkin, who's helped countless indie artists get online distribution through his now-defunct Songs.com site. It was a delight to hear him asking informed and pointed questions of the insiders. When the suits blamed mp3s for pulling the rug out from under the music biz, the Perfesser would have none of it and alluded knowingly to the overpaid and underproducing execs. As the bus pointed back toward the conference, he stated that the general economic malaise and downloadable music troubles lead to one conclusion: "There has never been a better time to be an indie."

"Be yourself" was the surprising and welcome advice often repeated by the other side of the music biz: the intensely bright, creative, musically accomplished songwriters, publishers and pluggers who appeared on panels in between the suits. "Producers can make you sound any way they want! What they want from you is something fresh." This wisdom came from Tia Sillers, who represented the salaried songwriter. Easygoing and casually dressed, the smiling Sillers made a songwriting career look and sound plausible as she described its day-to-day reality. However, since the high times in Nashville are over, publishers have turned loose literally hundreds of talented colleagues. She felt especially blessed that her company kept her on till she found some success. Sillers also warned that Nashville is a town where, if you want to make it, you never, ever brag about that success. Everyone on the panel voiced their concurrence. "Introduce yourself by name only, let your accomplishments only be revealed later," she advised. Sillers herself lives that advice. At the closing the moderator casually mentioned that she is co-writer of the Country Song of 2000 Grammy-winner, Lee Ann Womack's "I Hope You Dance." Other Sillers' compositions include Kenny Wayne Shepherd's "Blue on Black" and the Dixie Chicks' chart-topper, "There's Your Trouble." (Not sure how far that credit will get you in Nashville these days.)

Back at the ranch (the Nashville Convention Center), the Folk Alliance had its usual three days of intense learning during the day, with workshops ranging from continuing education for lawyers to getting a record deal to Janis Ian's master class in artistry.

Evenings are strictly for music -- seeing old favorites and discovering new ones. Stephen Fearing is out touring a solo CD at the moment, but delighted the official showcase with his roots/rock/country trio, Blackie and the Rodeo Kings; Canadians can really dig into that solitary prairie sound. Wickedly handsome Lennie Gallant is another who has done well with country. He chose to honor his French Canadian roots by starting his showcase with a bilingual song of love and betrayal across the language barrier. With just his voice and frame drum, he recreated the lonesome sound of standing in a train vestibule as it hurtled across Canada.

Now HQ'd in Quebec, fiddler Laura Risk and percussive dancer Sandy Silva stretched traditional fiddle and dance combinations. Some called it "over the top," others loved the visual poetry of traditional dance improv'd to the max.

Women of color had a great year on the main showcase stage. Stella Chiweshe, mbira player and vocalist, brought Zimbabwe to Nashville. Storyteller Linda Humes shared African tales. Laura Love, as always, claimed all parts of her African and European heritage, blended them into a contemporary stew, underscored the whole thing with her thumping electric bass and garnished her topical songs with a truly soaring soprano. Ruthie Foster, by contrast, closed this year's main showcases with a deep, full voice, grounding us by reclaiming the gospel of her youth in between her original songs.