Metro Pulse/Music/Eye on the Scene

Local Radio Wars, Part Umpteen

We just can't seem to go more than a week without a new wrinkle in the never-ending intrigue that is local, non-commercial radio. This week's saga involves the popular, ironic, and tongue-in-cheek "shocking" show, The Cock Rock Hour on WUTK New Rock 90.3 FM.

While tuning into 90.3 one Friday to hear his daughter's news broadcast (WUTK is a proving ground for budding Moira Kayes in the area), an irate parent took offense at the foul language of Cock Rock DJs Robbie Levering and Derek Senter. As a result, the mad dad wrote an outraged letter to UTK's broadcasting department, demanding that the show be canceled.

After considering the letter, Dr. Barbara Moore, head of UT's broadcasting department, decided that it would be best to suspend the show for a couple of weeks. "When I first got the letter I was very upset," explains Moore. "But then I talked with the station manager and she didn't think that the students had gone quite as far as the letter indicated.

"There were really two areas of concern: the station policy and that the station is regulated by the FCC, which has a policy against what it calls using indecent language during hours when children could be listening (from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m.). It sounded to me like the station had really been right on the edge, if not exactly breaking the rules. I decided that a suspension would be fair instead of firing the DJs or canceling the show."

DJ Senter counters that the show was not in violation of FCC regulations, and that the "filthy" words uttered on the program were actually pretty benign, when taken in a modern context. "I said the horrible, terrible, obscene words hell, ass, and damn," says Senter. "The guy that wrote the letter threw a fit and demanded that we be taken off the air."

Negotiations were hammered out and it was decreed that the show would have a two-week hiatus, returning with a disclaimer that will be aired at the beginning of each weekly program. In another humorous twist, the disclaimer was written by legendary local rocker, free-speech advocate, Zappa fanatic, and UT faculty member, Todd Steed.

"It's not like we get on there and swear a lot," says an incredulous Senter. " We get in there, we get fired up, and we just have a good time is all. They use words like ass and damn on commercials on other stations! We've done the show for a year and never had a problem before."

"The question isn't really what you or I think, or what the meaning behind the words is," counters Moore. "We're federally regulated and we don't have a lot of choice in this matter. Stations do get fined, and we can't afford a $10,000 fine. The stations who run shows like Howard Stern, for example—they were fined $1.7 million! And they can afford to pay that. We can't."

Let's hope the situation is all ironed out, because the Zipster would go into convulsions without a weekly meat injection of Iron Maiden, Twisted Sister, and Thor.

Local CD Review
Mustard , Eureka Grande

In the liner notes to a '90s reissue of the Velvet Underground's final studio album, Loaded, an anonymous commentator writes that only a few thousand people ever bought a VU album during the band's existence, but nearly every one of them started a band. That's the way with good pop music: it sounds so graceful, so easy, that we all think we could do the same thing.

There's a sense of that on Mustard's latest CD, Eureka Grande, a collection of wry, exuberant guitar pop dripping with self-deprecating, low-key charm: charming, sloppy melodies, a charming propensity for low-brow humor, all delivered by Chris Cook's guitar and charmingly off-key vocals. It's tough to describe an album with lyrics like "I'm the favorite turd on your shit list" or "There ain't nothing wrong with honky pride" as graceful, and the recording is lo-fi enough to make Lou Barlow blush. But scattered liberally throughout the irony are countless dizzying hooks and moments of genuine pop smarts.

Eureka Grande hits the ground running on "I Make You Sick," with rudimentary power chord riffs and a liquor bottle full of '70s hard rock swagger, followed by the band's theme song—"Come on, taste the mustard!"

But the charm really kicks in on "July Birthday Party," a lazy, lounge-y song that recalls high school summer vacation as well as anything since Pavement's "Summer Girl," and the pop anthem "Rock Star," with its echoes of Big Star.

Underneath its tough, don't-give-a-damn slacker attitude, Eureka Grande is a record with heart. It may be a twisted, malevolent heart, but it's heart nonetheless.

The Head Won't Rock

Despite the recent reopening of Tomato Head in a temporary spot on the west side of Market Square, Brian Sherry, who books music at the restaurant, says shows now scheduled there will probably be moved elsewhere. Sherry says the owner of the St. Oliver Hotel on Union Street, which has rooms above the new Tomato Head space, has complained that drums can be heard as high as the third floor of the hotel during performances.

Two shows scheduled for the Head last week—Sean Na Na and Pavo—were moved at the last minute, Pavo to Cup-a-Joe in the Old City and Sean Na Na to a house party in Fort Sanders.

"The Sean Na Na show was really fun," Sherry says. "They played a variation on strip poker, so they ended up in their boxer shorts."

Only one upcoming show scheduled for the Tomato Head—the Selby Tigers with the Come-Ons, on Thursday, April 13—has been canceled. "I know it's not my fault, but I feel responsible," Sherry says. "The shows in May are far enough away that we think we can work something out."

Sherry says the Pilot Light in the Old City may be an alternative venue for most of the bands when the club finally opens, hopefully later this month. 90 Day Men with New Brutalism and Dark Logik is expected to be the first show there on Wednesday, April 26.

For updates on schedules and locations, contact Sherry at [email protected].

To MerleFest We Go!

Local country/folk duo (and partners in the bonds of holy wedlock) Sarah Pirkle and Jeff Barbara have really got something to sing about these days. They were chosen as finalists for the Chris Austin Songwriting Contest. Pirkle and Barbara will proceed to one of the most esteemed folk festivals in the country, MerleFest, where they will play a set of their original material and, maybe, even win the contest.

"It's an event they do every year," says Pirkle. "All 12 finalists get to play and the top three get some kind of cash prizes."

Pirkle and Barbara were chosen for their song, "When I Come Home," which fits in the contest's gospel category. If you can't make it to April 27-30's MerleFest (although you can get more info about the festival at www.merlefest.org or 800-343-7857) , you can check out the song on their new CD, Dog Years.

This is no small potatoes thing either, more like potential career launch. The contest has served as a springboard to many high-flying careers in folk, most notably that of soporific folk goddess Gillian Welch.

"The exposure is worth a lot," says Pirkle. "It's a great honor to be able to play at MerleFest as a songwriter and we're stoked. It's just a great opportunity." Let's hope they get the attention they deserve, and then one day we can say we knew 'em when.

—Zippy "Soporific!" McDuff