Monday, December 27, 2010

The Current-Feature Story January 2011

Richie Havens

Remember that song from the early 90s by Cracker, the one with the line “What the world needs now is another folk singer/Like I need a hole in the head”? I always assumed that line was about Jewel, even though the song in which it appears was released a few years before anyone had heard of Jewel. Turns out I was wrong. It’s actually about every so-called “folk” singer who came after Richie Havens. And for you younger readers who are wondering just who the heck Richie Havens is, well, he’s a folk singer, dummies. And more than that, Richie Havens is exactly what you picture when you think of a folk singer. Strumming his acoustic guitar so hard you think he must be mad at it. Singing songs about freedom and the devastation of war and violence and poverty and ignorance. Opening Woodstock.

Sure, you knew that Jimi Hendrix was the last artist to perform at Woodstock (and you may have known that the next to last artist was Sha Na Na, but that’s neither here nor there), but you probably didn’t know that the first was an at the time unknown folk singer named Richie Havens. It was his appearance at the legendary music festival, and in the subsequent film, that catapulted Havens into the consciousness of a worldwide audience, and set the stage for a varied career that has included nearly 30 albums, film and stage acting roles, political and environmental activism and the ability to sport so many turquoise rings and bone and bead necklaces that he resembles a hippie Mr. T. And this January, Richie Havens is coming to Fort Smith, AR.

I don’t have the space to lay out Richie Havens’ entire list of achievements, so you’ll just have to trust me when I tell you it’s impressive. Instead, I’ll give you a few reasons why you should make the trip to For t Smith to check out the show.

First off, there’s a chance you could meet the president. Okay, maybe not the current president, but still. You see, Richie Havens performed at the inauguration of President Bill Clinton back in 1992. Chances are they’re still pals. President Clinton is from Arkansas. The show’s in Arkansas. I’m not saying it’s gonna happen, I’m just telling you there’s a chance.

Secondly, you’ll have a rare opportunity to hear Bob Dylan songs performed live and be able to actually understand the words. Richie Havens has a reputation as a premier interpreter of Dylan songs, and he’s even released an album of Dylan covers. He has a clear, strong, soulful voice. Bob Dylan has a voice made for, um, song writing.

Lastly, the Dalai Lama is a huge fan. A few years back, His Holiness The Dalai Lama requested Havens sing his songs “Lives in the Balance” and “Freedom” at a performance in Los Angeles. This Dalai Lama is 75 years old and the 14th incarnation of the Buddha of Compassion, which means he’s an enlightened being who has been reincarnated 13 times previously, which means he’s seen a lot of cool bands and artists over the years, which means he knows a good folk singer when he hears one. And he thinks Richie Havens is pretty cool. The Dalai Lama knows what Cracker knows. Once there’s a Richie Havens, the world doesn’t really need another folk singer.

Don’t miss your opportunity to become enlightened just like the Dalai Lama when Richie Havens plays the Second Street Live Theater in beautiful Fort Smith on Wednesday, January 12 at 7:30pm. Tickets are $50 and can be purchased at The Second Street Live Theater is located at 101 North Second Avenue in Fort Smith.

The Current-Feature Story December 2010

The Dead Kenny G's

I’ve gotta be totally honest with you. Before receiving this month’s assignment, I had never heard of The Dead Kenny G’s. Aside from a few YouTube videos, there’s very little online about the band, aside from their own no-frills website (which has no bio) and a run of the mill MySpace page (which has a one paragraph bio). Their music isn’t on Grooveshark. They have no entry on Wikipedia. Not cool, internet.

However, being the creative artist that I am, I managed, through exhaustive research and limitless imagination, to piece together a highly possible rendering of the story of how this talented group of musicians came together to form The Dead Kenny G’s, much like Aaron Sorkin did in writing The Social Network. To make the following seem more cinematic, imagine Michael Cera in the role of Skerik (yes, Skerik. That’s what he wants to be called, so that’s what I’m calling him. If you have to know his real name, Google him.), and one of the guys from The Backstreet Boys in the role of Mike Dillon. The following is based on true events.

Skerik: Hi, my name’s Skerik. I play saxophone and keyboards. I’ve played with all sorts of cool artists, like Roger Waters, Pearl Jam and Bonnie Raitt. I love me some Coltrane. But I can’t stand Kenny G.

Mike Dillon: Your name’s Skerik?

Skerik: Yes. That’s what I like to be called.

Mike Dillon: Hi, Skerik. I’m Mike Dillon. I totally hear ya about Kenny G. I play the drums and all sorts of other instruments. I also sing on some occasions. I’m really into Mike Watt, even though when he sings it sounds like he’s in physical pain. I’ve played with cool people too, like Ani DiFranco. I’m getting ready to work with Les Claypool from Primus. His new band is called Les Claypool’s Flying Frog Brigade. You should join too.

Skerik: You won’t believe this, but I’m already in that band. I can’t wait to play together. And then after we’ve played together in that band for a while, maybe we can tour together in a series of subsequent bands playing different varieties of music. Perhaps our newfound partnership can culminate in the formation of an acid-jazz fusion type combo, something totally not like what Kenny G does.

Mike Dillon: That sounds great. We could even add a little punk rock flavor, kind of like The Dead Kennedys. Hey, that gives me a great idea for a band name. How does The Dead Kenny G’s grab you?

Skerik: You’re reading my mind, man. Here’s another idea. How about after we’ve been together as The Dead Kenny G’s for a while, we bring in some new members, like, for touring and stuff? Maybe my buddy Brad Hauser on bass and Brian Haas from Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey on keyboards.

Mike Dillon: Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey? They’re from Oklahoma. I’ve always wanted to visit. Maybe Brian can tell us what it’s like.

Skerik: Maybe someday we can even go there.

End Scene.

From the research I was able to do, I’m pretty sure that’s basically how The Dead Kenny G’s came into existence. And that cliffhanger at the end, where Skerik is left with his hope of one day visiting Oklahoma as the screen fades to black? Spoiler alert. It has a happy ending. Twice.

The Dead Kenny G’s (featuring Brian Haas of Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey) come to Currentland in support of their album Bewildered Herd on Friday, Dec. 3 at The Deli in Norman, Saturday, Dec. 4 at Eclipse in Tulsa and Sunday, Dec. 5 at George’s Majestic Lounge in Fayetteville, AR. For complete tour information go online to You can also pick up a copy of Bewildered Herd on iTunes.

The Current-Feature Story November 2010

Cheech & Chong

Upon receipt of this month’s writing assignment, I could only smile. It would seem that my initial foray into the Green Living section had been a wild success, so much so that I was entrusted with the tremendous responsibility of writing about those pioneers of green living, Cheech & Chong.

I know, I know, Cheech & Chong aren’t famous for the same type of green-living that we here at The Current are talking about. Except for those guys in the smoke-filled van outside the Christmas party a couple of years ago. But judging by their shared affinity for the bounties of this great earth, my guess is Cheech & Chong would look on our own Green Living section with approval.

The problem with writing about legendary performers, and Cheech & Chong, who will be performing in Tulsa on Nov. 18, are absolutely comedy legends, is that pretty much everything one may want to know about them has been written. Everyone knows Cheech & Chong, right? Well, as Lee Corso might say, not so fast my friend.

Most people probably think of one thing when they think of Cheech & Chong: marijuana. As a duo, their love of pot has served as the basis for most of their comedy, whether it’s their stand-up act, movies, stand-up act or movies. Actually, they may be most famous for a novelty song, “Santa Claus and His Old Lady”, that can be heard every Christmas. And I mean heard, as in over and over. Indeed, it was their comedy albums back in the 70s and 80s that put these two on the map, and like most of their other work as a duo, the comedy relied heavily on the pot references. But is it fair to define these two solely by their love of marijuana? Not even close.

Did you know Tommy Chong, (the “Chong” half of the duo) was once a successful online businessman? Well, to be fair, that online business, Chong’s Glass, distributed marijuana-related paraphernalia, but he was quite successful at it.

Did you know Tommy Chong is also a political dissident who chose a stint in prison on trumped-up federal charges so that his wife and business partners could avoid jail time? I mean, in the interest of full disclosure, he was convicted of conspiring to distribute drug paraphernalia, marijuana bongs, across state lines, for which he served nine months in federal prison (and which also led to his writing The I Chong: Meditations From the Joint, which became a bestseller).

Did you know that Tommy Chong is a tireless political and social activist? Of course, you can probably guess what cause he’s chosen to support. If you can’t, it’s marijuana legalization. Think about the tax revenue!

Did you know that Cheech & Chong are professional wrestlers? Okay, that one’s not really true at all, but they did serve as guest hosts back in March when WWE Raw came to Oklahoma City. And while they didn’t actually get in the ring because they happened to be too high from the “magic cereal” that Hornswoggle fed them, causing them to mistake William Regal for Eve Torres and Chris Masters for Kelly Kelly, which led to them ordering the two into a diva pajama pillow fight as they watched intently from their ringside recliners, they did seem to enjoy themselves. Seriously, I didn’t make any of that up.

The truth is, Tommy Chong has made the reformation of marijuana laws a major focus in his life, and even when the two parted ways in the early eighties, Chong continued to perform his comedy, both as a solo act and with his wife, Shelby, a successful comedian herself. Through it all, including the stint in prison, Chong continued, and continues, on his quest to see the legalization of marijuana. Richard “Cheech” Marin? He went mainstream.

Remember that TV show about the plane crash survivors and polar bears and time travel and good versus evil and the Korean mafia and baby stealing and moving islands and plenty of other nonsense that I can’t think of right now called Lost. Cheech was on that. He was also on Nash Bridges and Grey’s Anatomy. And in plenty of movies like Tin Cup and everything Robert Rodriguez has ever done. But a couple years ago, Cheech decided it was time to return to the dark side. Or the green side. In 2008, Cheech & Chong got the band back together (literally, they play songs and everything) and embarked on the Cheech & Chong Light Up America/Canada Tour, their first in over 20 years.

And with the success of that tour, the iconic duo is doing it all over again, again, with the follow-up Cheech & Chong: Get It Legal Tour. Do your part to go green by coming out when they bring the fun to the Tulsa Convention Center on Thursday, Nov. 18. Shelby Chong will be opening. Doors open at 7pm and show starts at 8pm. Tickets are $41.50, $51.50 and $61.50 and can be purchased at You can find everything Cheech & Chong related at

The Current-Feature Story September 2010

Lewis Black

You know the type. We’ve all had to listen to him. The jerk-off in the bar with the liberal arts degree (me) who acts like he’s smarter than everyone else (still me) because he’s heard idiotic “facts” and can’t wait to recite them to a receptive group of slightly intoxicated friends or acquaintances who have had just enough to drink to accept what I’m (he’s) saying without question. Usually it’s something like “you know, statistics show that more people would prefer death to public speaking” or “It’s a scientific fact that a single six month old panda cub contains enough nutritional elements to sustain an entire Ethiopian village for six years“.

But what ‘s interesting is that most people would consider the former statement to be somewhat plausible. The truth is, it’s generally regarded as fact, and most people would be very hesitant to argue any different, because, as scary as it sounds, two or more other people may be listening. I first heard a reference to this “fact” in one of Jerry Seinfeld’s old routines, where after referencing the study that yielded the findings, he ascertained that at any given funeral, more people would rather be in the coffin than deliver the eulogy.

So why are we so afraid of public speaking? My guess is because we’re afraid of being laughed at. It seems like a pretty sound reason. But it’s a reason that begs an additional question: Why in the world would anyone want to be a stand-up comedian? And I won’t even get into the fact that a comedian is at least partly responsible for the preceding rambling paragraphs. Or all the ensuing ones.

And so I’ll get to the point. Lewis Black is a comedian. He’s maybe not as well known as a guy like Seinfeld, who even your grandma knows, but most other people do, especially the cool kids. And one of the things I find most interesting about Lewis Black is that he seems, in his act at least, to be like one of the majority of folks who aren’t exactly comfortable with getting up in public and saying something. It’s not that he seems like he’d rather be dead, but more like he isn’t entirely happy to have people laughing at him. It seems to make him a little uncomfortable. And more than a little angry.

Yes, Lewis Black does come across as a bit angry. Maybe it’s because his job entails doing something that, for most people, is worse than death. But for those of us familiar with Black’s onstage persona, be it through his countless appearances on The Daily Show, his numerous Comedy Central stand-up specials, the TV or movie roles, his History Channel hosting gigs or his books, Black’s anger is more than just an act. It’s a reflection, not only of the ridiculous society we live in, but our own reactions to it.

And those reactions, while exaggerated, have proven to be so spot on that Black has become one of America’s most popular comedians, authenticated by his selection as Top Male Stand-Up at the 2001 American Comedy Awards, and, at least in the eyes of this writer, by his frequent skewering of Fox News parasite, Glenn Beck. Take that, Larry the Cable Guy.

Of course, there’s always fun to be had at the Osage Million Dollar Elm, so even if you can’t make out to see Lewis Black there will be plenty of other opportunities for entertainment seekers in September, whatever your tastes may be. For you bikers, both the authentic ones and the posers, every Saturday is Bike Night. And every Friday, Saturday and Sunday night brings great live music, with September’s lineup including Steve Lidell, Tuff Profit, Mike Black, The Crowe Band and the Vance Orange Project.

And I haven’t even mentioned the real reason everyone loves The Osage Million Dollar Elm, that being the chance to win big bucks, which calls to mind the lyrics to a great old Uncle Tupelo song, “I can’t forget the sound/Cause it’s here to stay/The sound of people chasing money/And money…getting away.” But really, you’re probably due to hit it big.

And even if you’re not, you’ll want to come out and see Lewis Black do things scarier than death when he performs on Friday, Sep. 17 at 7:00pm. Tickets are $40 and are on sale now and can be purchased online at or, where you can also find a full calendar of upcoming events and show times for all the aforementioned musical acts. The Osage Million Dollar Elm Casino is located at 951 W 36th Street North in Tulsa.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

The Current-Story June 2010

Jonny Lang Live By Request Tour

So I have this list of questions that I put together while doing a little research on Jonny Lang as I prepared to interview him for this story about his upcoming concert at GUTS Church in Tulsa. Unfortunately, the interview was postponed and rescheduled so many times by Lang’s management that, ultimately, it had to be cancelled altogether. But I still have my list of questions. And these aren’t just run-of-the mill, variation on the same subject, heard it a thousand times-type questions, either. These questions go for the throat. They peel back the layers. They look straight into the soul. So instead of giving you the usual Wikipedia special, I’ve decided to rate my questions, take the top three, and show them here, along with a brief explanation of why I asked the question, and with two answers: What I think Jonny Lang would say, and what I wish he would say.

3. Q: How old were you when your voice changed? I have to ask because, as we all know, Jonny was known as a bit of a prodigy in the blues-rock world, coming along at the age of 15 and sounding like he was 40.

What I think he would say: Probably 12, just because that’s when, according to Wikipedia, he fronted his first blues band.

What I wish he would say: Two years old. Because babies with grown-up voices are funny. You’ve seen Little Man, right?

2. Q: If your sister had won American Idol, became world-famous overnight, and suddenly was offering you an opening slot on her stadium tour, wouldn’t you want to knock her around a little, not anything too rough, just brother-sister style? I ask this because I read an interview where Jonny spoke about how proud he was of his sister, Jesse Langseth, who was a semi-finalist on the show, and I have a theory that any musician who has paid his or her dues harbors a deep resentment toward the contestants on that show.

What I think he would say: Oh, no, I’d just be so proud of her. I’m already proud of her, and I’d happily open for my sister. (Jonny Lang opens for everyone).

What I wish he would say: I smacked her around a little just for doing the show.

1. Q: Is it possible that you pulled a Robert Johnson, sold your soul to the devil in exchange for the life of a bluesman, and are now making gospel records in the hopes that you will be fast-tracked into heaven without anyone noticing you don’t have a soul? I ask this question because over the last few years Lang, who is a Christian, released the gospel-influenced album, Turn Around, and has spoken openly about his faith, and because, you know, it’s the blues, man.

What I think he would say: People can be skeptical, but God will be the ultimate judge.

What I wish he would say: I’ll give you a million dollars not to print that.

Find the answers yourself when Jonny Lang brings his sinfully beautiful voice and blues guitar to GUTS Church on Saturday, June 12, for his Live By Request concert at the Tougher Than Hell bike rally and classic car show to benefit Haiti earthquake victims. For ticket information visit or

Saturday, May 1, 2010

The Current-Feature Story May 2010

Tulsa International Mayfest Brings In the Sounds of Spring

On a beautiful day in mid-April, sunny and breezy with an afternoon temperature a very mild 82, I actually heard a friend complain that it was too hot. What, I thought to myself, the hell is he talking about? How could the depth of his memory be so shallow? Had we not just endured the harshest winter in memory? Did it not snow a freaking foot on the first day of spring? And what’s the deal with all the questions?

My response to his complaint was, for me, wildly out of character. I resisted the urge to relate the story of the time when, in Langkawi, Malaysia, my crewmates and I found ourselves on liberty in a poverty-stricken village where sewage spilled into the dirt streets and festered in the triple digit heat and 100% humidity, our only respite against the oppressive sensory assault a tar paper and bamboo shanty called Adibah’s Spirits and Meats on a Stick, where we sipped slowly on pints of lukewarm formaldehyde-spiked beer while fanning ourselves with the tail feathers of endangered pygmy woodpeckers. Instead, I decided to do something. Make a difference. He needed what we all need in these trying times of a stagnant economy, domesticated animal-associated influenza outbreaks, a president that may not even be a real U.S. citizen, and political action groups that charge $500 so supporters can attend conventions to complain about high taxes. He needed a reason to celebrate.

And what better reason to celebrate than spring? Not the foot of snow spring, either, but the warm, sunny, sometimes rainy spring, with the perfect golf weather, and hummingbirds, and girls in sundresses, and flowers that I’ve always called Easter lilies but according to my mom are not Easter lilies, and girls in tank tops and khaki shorts, and absolutely zero chance of snow. And so I formulated a plan to help my friend (we’ll call him Dave, because that sounds like a complainer-type name), rediscover the beauty of spring by organizing a celebration in downtown Tulsa, a place he works and loves. Since it was already mid-April, I would plan it for May.

Knowing Dave like I do, I thought this celebration should focus not only on spring, but also on music and the arts. Almost like a festival in May. It just needed a catchy name. I briefly considered Spring Festival, after my college polka band, but after years of legal entanglements over royalties and licensing issues, decided it to be in bad taste. May Festival? Too clunky. A catchy name needed no more than two syllables. Short and sweet. With May being short by nature I decided to make a risky move, one I believed had not been previously attempted, and shortened festival to “fest”. Mayfest? It had potential.

So I began making a wish list of artists and musicians that would be perfect for Mayfest. I decided to utilize a method known as “free writing,” in which one simply closes his or her eyes and writes without thinking, a method often used by Stephen King and the writers of Two and a Half Men, in order to tap into my subconscious and discover my innermost thoughts as to who should headline Mayfest. I looked at the words I’d written: Cherry Poppin’ Daddies. Perfect.

What better act to bridge the gap between those generations that grew up in simpler times with today’s sometimes understandably cynical youth than the Cherry Poppin’ Daddies, a band whose name alone conjures images of spring and rebirth. Or at least the first awkward steps toward birth. With a sound that blends the big band swing era with punk rock, ska and rockabilly, these guys would be the perfect band to bring folds of all ages together in celebration not only of spring but of the power and beauty of the arts.

Doing a little research on the Cherry Poppin’ Daddies (I still kind of giggle when I hear the name), I was surprised to discover that they’ve been doing what they do for over twenty years. Twenty years. Are you kidding me? That’s older than some of the girls I try to check out when I’m out with the gorgeous redhead that she always seems to catch me trying to check out and rolls her eyes at me for. When a band’s been together twenty years, you know they know how to put on a show. And they even had a hit song, “Zoot Suit Riot,” which, if you ever listen to the radio, you’ll realize is really hard to do for a good band.

The Cherry Poppin’ Daddies being such an eclectic-sounding group, whose influences cover such a wide range of styles, I immediately began contemplating other musical acts to complement them. I would contact mostly local acts from various genres such as Admiral Twin, Leon Rollerson & Friends, David Castro, Stars Go Dim and Brandon Jenkins to name a few. As my wish list grew longer I realized a festival of this size would need to be expanded to multiple days. Four days, Thursday through Sunday, seemed about right.

But in order to give folks like Dave a reason to attend a four day festival, I would need more than great music. So I began thinking about my favorite artists. My idea was to have a juried showcase for artists from around the world who utilize a variety of media such as clay, jewelry, glass, wood and paint. Names like Anne Vogt, Michael Barnes, Irene Gates, Sidney Flack and Dennis Thompson immediately came to mind. I would also invite the best area artists to showcase in an invitational gallery. And students! I would invite area students to submit their work as well!

Now all my festival would need is food. I decided that 30 seemed like a nice number of vendors to offer everything from traditional festival fare like funnel cakes and meats on a stick (hopefully not the same types of meat as I found in Malaysia) to Greek and Chinese favorites.

With my plan outlined, I was beginning the process of organizing my inaugural festival when Dave called.

“You going to Mayfest?” he asked.


And Dave explained to me that there was already a festival called Mayfest, that it happened every year, and that Cherry Poppin’ Daddies would be headlining and all the artists and musicians I previously mentioned, and many more, would be attending. I was in shock. They had stolen my idea. Could I sue? Probably not, considering this is the 38th year of the festival. With no recourse, I went back to work on my latest idea. It’s exactly like an iPod Touch, only much larger, like the size of a writing pad. Just need to think of a catchy name.

The 38th annual Tulsa International Mayfest will be held May 13-16 in downtown Tulsa. Admission is free for the whole family. For a complete schedule, show times, roster of artists and pretty much anything else you might want to know, go to

Thursday, March 4, 2010

The Current-Feature Story March 2010

Turnpike Troubadours

What do you want to do with your life? It’s a question we’ve all grappled with, from Cameron in Ferris Beuller’s Day Off to the unnamed kid in that Twisted Sister video. The kid’s answer? I wanna rock! Rock being a malleable term, it’s an ideal shared by Evan Felker and his band mates in perhaps the most exciting and arguably the most talented young band to come out of this area in some time, the Turnpike Troubadours.

If you’re a regular reader of this magazine, you’re probably somewhat familiar with these guys. But if you haven’t heard of them yet, now would be the time to familiarize yourself. Surely you want to be one of the cool kids who can say you listened to them way back when they were a struggling young band, before one of their songs is included on a Friday Night Lights episode or Kenny Chesney starts wearing their t-shirt at his shows to get a little street cred. But you better jump on the bandwagon quick, because it’s filling up in a hurry.

As with almost any new and up and coming band from Oklahoma, there is a strong urge to categorize the Turnpike Troubadours as simply another Red Dirt act, but one listen to their sound and you’ll quickly realize that, perhaps more than any other Oklahoma roots-rock band, their music defies such easy categorization. Lead singer, chief songwriter, acoustic guitarist and Tahlequah resident Felker chooses a philosophical view when describing his band’s music.

“We do what we do,” he explains, “Call it what you want.”

What more and more audiences are discovering, the thing to call it is plainly and simply good. Having toured and played gigs throughout Oklahoma almost non-stop over the past three years, the band, who along with Felker include R.C. Edwards on bass, Kyle Nix on fiddle, Ryan Engleman on lead guitar and Giovanni Carnuccio on drums, is now extending its reach into Texas and beyond, including recent stops in Minnesota and Iowa, and audiences everywhere are having a similar reaction.

“The crowds have been really great,” says Felker, “People respond to music the same way everywhere.”

What Felker, refreshingly, doesn’t quite seem to grasp is that people actually don’t respond to all music the same everywhere. It’s never that simple. The fact is, people only respond to quality music in the way Felker describes. And while The Blues Brothers might make one believe that the secret to winning over new audiences lies in a rousing rendition of the Rawhide theme, the reality is that if a band is playing original tunes in front of crowds who don’t necessarily know their music, that band better put on a great live show.

“I consider our type of music as live music,” says Felker, “The best way to hear it is live on the stage.”

With songs that blend electric roots rock with some acoustic folk and a little Cajun squeezebox, topped off with Nix’s ever-present fiddle, their sound is sometimes reminiscent of artists like The Gourds and The Felice Brothers, bands that have gained substantial followings on the strength of their live shows. At other times you can hear songs that you would swear must have been written by Steve Earle or Robert Earl Keen, those stories about doing hard time or blowing all your money gambling, or the n’er do well son in their song, “The Funeral,” off their latest album, who only comes home after his daddy dies: Jimmy looked at Mama/Mama just looked down/She said why’s it take a funeral boy/To bring you back to town?

That theme of small town, usually shady, characters struggling to exist on the fringes of society can be found throughout the band’s 2007 first album, Bossier City, and continues on their latest, Diamonds & Gasoline, released in early January. The album was produced by veteran Oklahoma musician and early Red Dirt success story, Mike McClure, who was highly impressed by the band.

“The Turnpike Troubadours show more promise song writing/talent wise than any band I’ve heard coming out of Oklahoma in a long time. They are definitely the new front-line torchbearers in a long line of Okie tradition. I am extremely proud to have been a part of working on this record,” McClure is quoted on the band’s website.

That kind of high praise is all the more amazing when you consider that Felker, whose songs are populated by characters who the creators of Breaking Bad would deem too edgy, is only 25. While other artists his age write songs about various things that occur on or around the dance floor, Felker has joined fellow new-school Southern gothic songwriters like Chris Knight and Patterson Hood, artists whose lyrics tell stories that call to mind William Faulkner or Flanary O’Connor.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying Felker’s writing is Nobel Prize-worthy. Yet. But in all seriousness, in a time when most country radio hits basically draw caricatures of the very fans that buy the music (“Hillbilly Bone,” anyone?), it is refreshing to hear songs that get it right, even the ugly parts. But that’s also precisely why you shouldn’t expect to hear these guys getting airplay anytime soon. And we all suffer for it.

I call it Nashville Fatigue Syndrome. It’s a problem that arises when one is inundated by the crap that country radio insists on dumping on music fans. Symptoms include unwittingly purchasing the latest Trailer Choir single and line-dancing to “Honky-Tonk Badonkadonk.” The only cure is satellite radio or Pandora, which I loved so much when I first discovered it that I wrote them an email telling how much I loved them, which prompted them to send me a free t-shirt, which was too small and I had to give to the gorgeous redhead to wear as a night gown, but still. Who doesn’t love a free t-shirt? The only problem with Pandora is, as of this writing, Turnpike Troubadours was not in its rotation.

Luckily you don’t have to go online to hear the band’s music. But with members living in Norman, Perry and Tahlequah, it can sometimes be hard work to simply get the band together for a gig, but work is something the Turnpike Troubadours haven’t shied away from. It’s their willingness to do the work, combined with the simple fact that they’ve been blessed with a buttload of talent, that makes it easy to see that the Turnpike Troubadours will one day be that band that those of us lucky enough to have seen them at this stage of their career will brag about having been into since the beginning.

One of the last things I asked Felker when interviewing him for this story was this: What made you decide that playing in a band was going to be what you do for a living?

“I’ve just always loved music,” was his answer.

Classic Felker. Short and to the point. Actually, when I spoke to him, Felker seemed a little uneasy when talking about himself. Maybe even a little embarrassed by the attention. It was actually quite charming, although charming doesn’t count for much when you’re looking for details. Perhaps next time I should talk more about me.

If you think you’re ready to jump on the bandwagon with the rest of us, check out the band’s website (which was built by lead guitarist Engleman) at, where you can find tour dates and even stream both their albums in entirety. You can also find them on myspace and facebook. Twitter too, if that’s something you’re interested in.