The News of the World
As in Tulsa World
Irony of ironies
The first piece of mail I slit open on the first day back at my desk in the Tulsa World newsroom: a press release from Lincoln Center.
Sigh.
Sludge and slurry
"Let's see, what am I having for lunch later...?" Photo by Michael Wyke / Tulsa World.
In the most absurd respects, I am a puny public figure in town. That is, once or twice a year I am called upon to be someone's "celebrity" judge, usually in some TV or radio station's talent contest for their own short-sighted promotional gains. The photo above is me struggling to maintain a straight – and brave – face during the KHTT ("K-Hits!") contest to determine the opening act for blond teen babe Jessica Simpson on her concert stopover in Tulsa (what I began referring to as the Airbrushed Nipples Tour). Foolish me, I had expected the contest to be stocked with actual musical talent; instead, it was largely 15-year-old girls direct from their bedrooms and still holding the microphone like a hairbrush. The air at the outdoor club was rank with the perfume (God, they still wear Tea Rose) and indignation of stage mothers. Fortunately, the girl who won, Kim Ray, genuinely deserved to win, having a fine voice, an intriguing delivery, and an original song (three girls that afternoon sang Mandy Moore's "Candy," which is still in my head, damn it all). The rest of them, well, one wonders what propelled them onto that stage, who was behind them saying, "Gosh, you're real good!" The husky girl who stared at the bricks and could barely be heard. The old guy in bicycle shades who sang a Joe Cocker song. The duo of 14-year-old girls in leather pants who sang directly to me, giving me the sluttiest looks and winks they had copied from MTV. Yeesh.
On the rock beat
Since the Tulsa World's web site now charges for the pleasure of reading any of its content, even the current day's news – just don't get me started – I'll post some of my stories here each edition. Some features and reviews this go-round, plus my stories from Woody-fest in Okemah, Okla., in mid-July.
Recent features & reviews:
I'd been having this discussion with friends for several months, about how Michael Jackson has not actually influenced pop culture but merely imposed himself upon it. The release of his latest CD allowed me to set this claim in print and, well, to unload on the freak. Much angry mail came in, most of which made my argument for me, defending Jacko by praising everything about him except his music.
A CD review duet in which your author contrasts two new releases – from the bands Nickelback and Sloan – in order to point out what a downer modern rock has become.
I became enthralled by spoken-word performers in New York; fortunately, there are some interesting performance poets in Tulsa, too. This feature advanced one of their regional poetry slams, and it featured one of my favorite photos ever to run in the Tulsa World.
Singer strives to offer her voice as a vehicle for others' songs
Mary Catherine Reynolds blew my lid off at the Woody Guthrie Folk Festival a couple of years ago and again this year. She's based in Oklahoma City and reminds me of another tough-gal folkie with a crystalline voice I followed faithfully years ago, Peggy Johnson.
Jessica Simpson is the latest blond teen on the charts. I had to see her show at Tulsa's River parks. It sucked, and the beauty of my job is that I get to say as much to 170,000 daily subscribers.
John Belushi modeled his Blues Brothers character after a soul singer in the Pacif Northwest named Curtis Salgado. He's still making records and touring, and before a Tulsa appearance I chatted with him about comedic inspiration, the state of soul music and the roots of Robert Cray.
P.O.D. is loud, hard and aggressive. So what makes them different from the rest of the nü-metal losers clogging current radio? They're singing praises to God.
An interesting local act called Rewake just released an eagerly anticipated debut CD. Here's my cover story about the band and its singer, Malan Darras.
Sometimes I interview someone who's artistic work I loathe but who has such an interesting story to tell that we wind up having a great conversation. Such was the case in this interview with – yeesh! – Debby Boone.
Woody Guthrie Folk Festival coverage:
Initial advance story, with background on the festival's history.
A prophet from the church of Woody
Interview with songwriter Kevin Bowe of the Okemah Prophets. He's amazing, and he writes songs for someone you love, guaranteed.
Community, kin embrace Okemah's annual Woody Guthrie Folk Festival
Review of Wednesday night opening tribute concert, featuring nearly 30 musicians from around the country, all doing Woody songs. From this first night, the chummy mood of the festival was evident.
Audience heats up on opening evening
Review of Thursday night main-stage acts, including the Red Dirt Rangers, Slaid Cleaves and Xavier (Abe Guthrie).
Woody Guthrie Festival draws together friends and family
Review of weekend performances, including Arlo Guthrie, Joel Rafael and – wow! – Vance Gilbert.
Off-stage activities sometimes outshine headliners
Round-up of the week's magic moments, side stages and amusing anecdotes. This is always my favorite bit to write.
Just another shtick on the wall
My nook in the Tulsa World newsroom certainly bears my mark. How I've gotten away with all this clutter, I'll never understand, nor question. The wall, above, is covered in mementos and trinkets, as are the filing cabinets behind me. It's like the teenage bedroom I never had. My desk is solid clutter, from record guides to toy ray guns, my Gene Simmons doll and the piece of rock autographed by The Invincible Aziza after she broke it with a sledgehammer on the stomach of an audience member. Somehow all this survived untouched while I was in New York. It's my personality quilt.
The current contents of the wall:
Albert Camus postcard — Sammy Davis Jr. postcard — autographed David Garza set list — full-page ad for the first Spot Music Awards in '99 — autographed studio editing diagram from Dwight Twilley — Leon Russell 50th birthday concert poster — photo of the gents from 77 Sunset Strip — Kelly Kerr photo of the band Epperley — copy of Dave Carman's doctored photo of Hanson to make them look bug-eyed and vampiric — magazine photo of actor Terrence Stamp — Diabolical Productions button pinning up a grade-school photo of local promoter Davit Souders — button from Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me — a card printed with William S. Burroughs' "Thanksgiving Prayer" — an inflatible lobster coming through the hole in the wall and wearing a cap advertising Bob Cobb and His Swingin' Ambassadors — frisbee with the logo of a ska band called Five Iron Frenzy — poster from an old music project called Off the Streets of Tulsa — photos of James Plumlee playing bass — schnozz-n-glasses — magazine photo of and item about Rufus Wainwright — postcard I've had for about 15 years with a beautiful painting of land and the earth in a yin-yang design — Local Hero button — Rip Taylor postcard — postcard from Kelly Kerr's music photography exhibition — Grammy poster — magazine article about the Canadian band Sloan — old Shoe cartoon my Dad sent me eight years ago ("How did you get started in the newspaper business, Uncle Cosmo?" "Well, Skyler, I did a lot of odd jobs ... and eventually got a full-time odd job") — SXSW laminate from '00 — Evacuation of Oklahoma button — Tyson Meade postcard — Xeroxed and enlarged pull quote from some magazine — A3 button — a Flick 45 record — cardboard strip with Nelson Poynter quotation I've kept with me for a decade — photo of local songwriter Bob Childers posing with Willie Nelson — Elvis Costello postcard ("Playing His Way Your Way!") — three Tulsa State Fair pins — Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? postcard — scrap of paper quoting from the First Amendment — copy of an email message I received a few years ago with this beautiful and unintentionally ironic line: "If you can't say anthing nice, don't say it at all, you bastard!" — Bette Midler postcard — all-access laminates from this year's Woody Guthrie Folk Festival — two publicity photos of Jason Falkner — Junior Cook postcard — Hanson publicity photo — Gene publicity photo — the front panel from a box of Eggo waffles featuring Hanson — Morrissey publicity photo — copy of a page from a magazine with an artful definition of criticism — magazine photo of B.B. King in concert — M.A.D.D. ribbon — Beatifics poster — copy of an email I received from Austin American-Statesman rock critic Michael Corcoran offering wise advice on being a rock scribe — publicity photo of Sunny Day Real Estate (a leftover from Lucas which I left up) — poster from an exhibit of Picasso's one-line drawings with this quotation: "I have reached the point at which the movement of my thought interests me more than the thought itself."
X missed the Spot
Carlton Pearson and the Higher Dimensions Choir brings the rock of ages to last year's Spot Music Awards ceremony. Photo by Kelly Kerr / Tulsa World.
The Spot Music Awards lived on for a third year – by the hair of our chinny-chin chins. In a year when most newspapers were slashing budgets and, in the case of The Daily Oklahoman, laying off staff and eviscerating features coverage, the Tulsa World, praise be, left the budget for our local music awards show intact and untouched.
This show is something I created by happenstance a few years ago and has become a glorious Frankenstein monster tromping through the Tulsa music scene. Years ago, our executive editor solicited from me a list of music-related promotional ideas for the newspaper. I gave him a lengthy list, and one of the items was a series of awards complete with a Grammy-like presentation show. I'd been attending the Austin Music Awards as part of the South by Southwest music conference in Texas, and I saw no reason why Tulsa couldn't create a similar, albeit smaller, gala event (and if a music festival grew up around it, as in SXSW, more power to it). The scene deserved it and, I thought, could sustain such a show, and someone was going to come up with the idea sooner or later – it might as well be us. The memo gestated for a couple of years before that editor asked for more details on the awards show idea. Then, in 1999, we got the go-ahead to produce a show.
It was a killer event. We compiled a ballot and ran it in the Spot, our Friday entertainment tab, for eight weeks. People actually voted and got incredibly excited. The show was beautiful – searchlights, red carpets, limos, and gnarly rock stars dressed to the nines, tens and elevens. I was very proud – even moreso when last year, while I was in New York even, the show came off a second time bigger and better than the first.
Upon my return to the World, much of the preparation for this year's show was dumped in my lap, and it's been a bitch to rev things up again, but it's going to happen – the gala mini-Grammys at the historic Brady Theater, and afterwards music throughout the Brady district, in clubs and on outdoor stages. I'm in the process of compiling nominees now (not an easy task when you've been out of town for the entire eligibility period, I assure you) and selecting artists to perform. Pray for me – is there a patron saint of rock 'n' roll?
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