Callupsie

By Nathan Poppe
Features Writer

After waking up tired Saturday morning with my ears ringing from the sounds of Callupsie’s KXZY-sponsored show at Third Place, I knew the concert made a definite impact.

It was hard for me to ignore the energy Callupsie’s music brought to the table Friday.

SPIN magazine could say the same thing. The April issue features Callupsie in a two-page spread covering the Tulsa music scene.

When prompted about the article, lead singer and guitarist Aaron Hamby said, “It is just another drop in the bucket and it is not going to make [the band], but it does not hurt you. It’s a stepping stone.”

Judging by Callupsie’s performance, I would not be surprised if many more stepping stones are ahead in the near future.

Callupsie was not playing alone Friday night.

The evening began with a surprise performance from a band named Munchuckhee.

Lead singer, or storyteller, Nokosee Fields set the words from a Boohbah children’s book to song.

Switching from cello, Playskool piano, mandolin and violin, he and his accompaniment created unique music.

As unique as it sounded, the performance was slightly unpolished.

It is difficult for me to be too hard on Fields’s project because he told me that the idea for the performance was crafted earlier that afternoon and because he allowed me to make up spelling for his band.

Tulsan Mason Remel was second to perform and more prepared to play. His musical prowess reminded me of Dick Van Dyke’s one-man band, chimney sweep character from “Mary Poppins.”

He won me over as soon as he placed a harmonica holder around his neck that held a kazoo instead of a harmonica; it was genius.

Playing solo, he kept one foot pounding a glowing blue Yamaha bass drum, while his arms stayed tightly wrapped around a slick hollow-body guitar.

Like a new-age Woody Guthrie, he sang several clever storylike songs.

His toe-tapping melodies were both warm and illuminating, much like the horizon during an Oklahoma sunset.

As the midnight oil began to burn, Callupsie took the stage for the first time in Stillwater.

Ripping immediately into a feverishly energized set, its tunes set my head bobbing and in a matter of seconds the rest of my body was moving as well.

Lured by Callupsie’s lush and mellow sounds, the heads of the other patrons at Third Place were quickly bobbing in a similar fashion.

Even if you do not find Callupsie’s brand of groovy electric rock to be entertaining, you will at least walk away from its shows saying it was loud.

Its sound was so big that I could hardly believe that the tiny walls of Third Place could hold it all in.

I suggest you keep your eyes on Callupsie, which I imagine will not be too hard, for the band is working to promote its newest self-titled LP.

For more information about Callupsie, check out http://www.myspace.com/callupsie. - The Daily O'Collegian

Callupsie, armed with lofty ambitions, releases its debut album

BY JOSH KLINE

"The plan is to quit our jobs and make a million dollars," Aaron Hamby kidded, when asked about future plans regarding his band Callupsie.

"Each," Liz Wattoff finished, completing the joke that Hamby started.

Hamby (guitar and lead vocals) and Wattoff (drums) make up one half of Tulsa's most popular indie darlings of the moment. The facetious tone of their exchange underscores both the band's workman-like approach to making music and its determination to maintain a humble, self-aware sense of perspective as it continues to find success.

Rounding out the band is Clay Welch (guitar) and Daniel Sutliff (bass and keys). Hamby, Wattoff and Welch have been making music together for over three years (Sutliff is a recent addition, having replaced bassist Sam Ewing in November), and on Sat., April 5, they will finally unleash their debut album upon Tulsa as they host a CD release party at the Blank Slate. Shortly thereafter, the album will hit the rest of the world, quite literally. Via Little Mafia, Hard Work Records, Data Panic Distro and Carrot Top Distribution, Callupsie's album will find its way into record stores all over the U.S., Canada, Australia, Europe, Japan and the internet.

And what exactly will the world be hearing?

The album itself is a swaggering piece of indie pop-punk that's aggressive, emotive and catchy as hell. The band's secret weapon is a combination of Hamby's unique vocal delivery (quivery, high-pitched, punk-ish instability that's less manic than deliberate, at times vaguely reminiscent of Ben Gibbard's sensitive coo-ishness mixed with the drug-addled misanthropy of Isaac Brock), combined with Welch's and Hamby's interweaving reverb-drenched guitar melodies and counter-melodies. The band makes good use of Welch's background as a gypsy jazz guitarist, and the complex arrangements are frequently among the most immediately impressive aspects of Callupsie.

The album isn't able to fully capture the raw energy and enthusiasm of the band's live show, but it maintains a loose, off-the-cuff immediacy that's the result of Stephen Egerton's fast-paced guerilla production methods.

"We recorded this whole record in two sessions," Hamby said. "All the instruments, live, in two sessions. Nothing on this album is overdubbed, everything is done live--Stephen is really good at capturing that."

Egerton, the noted guitarist from '80s punk band The Descendents (trivia sidenote: the character Stevo in the popular cult film SLC punk is apparently named after Egerton), has been in Tulsa and producing through Armstrong Studios since 2004. The fast-paced, do-it-yourself-and-quickly punk rock mentality of Egerton meshed well with Callupsie's desire to simply capture their live performance as-is.

"We had recorded an EP with him," Hamby said. "Four or five tracks, and we'd done it in a single day. He dug our stuff so he was our first choice."

Straight to the Top

In many ways, this is a big breath-holding moment for Tulsa's indie scene. Over the last two years, some semblance of unity and coalescence has emerged among musicians, fans, promoters and venue operators who desire to help shape and nurture a healthy, viable artistic community that can produce nationally-recognized talent from within the city. Callupsie has led the pack thus far as a group of musicians who seem to have their shit together, both professionally and artistically, and it's easy to credit them as being contributors to the momentum that a handful of new bands are riding. The looming possibility of Tulsa eventually garnering national recognition as some sort of artistic indie mecca in the vein of Austin or Portland is still wishful thinking, but, as the first of the crop out of the gate with both an album and lucrative distribution, Callupsie's success (or lack thereof) will likely have a small but forceful ripple effect on the city's musical landscape.

Coincidentally, Tulsa's music scene is featured in this month's issue of Spin magazine. Over a two-page spread, readers are pointed to venues such as Soundpony and The Continental, among others, and the writer highlights several noted Tulsa acts. PDA, Crooked X, The Effects and, of course, Callupsie are featured with informative blurbs that sum up the essence of each band. This is not by any means earth-shattering news, but it's a notable achievement for a band, such as Callupsie, that has developed and cultivated a grassroots following based solely on live performances and word-of-mouth advertising.

The timing could not have been better, but now that the proper introductions have been made, it's anyone's call what will happen next. The rumor mill is in full swing now, and word has it that tastemaker labels Polyvinyl and Suicide Squeeze may be eyeing the band as a possible addition to their respective stables of talent. Regardless of whether or not those rumors pan out, it further serves to show that this is Callupsie's time in the sun, and they plan to use it effectively.

"Our plan is to knock out cities," Hamby said. "Play Lawrence twice a month for six months, then play Austin twice a month for six months. Keep pounding. My experience is you tour constantly and you do thirty dates in thirty different towns, by the time you get back to (the first town), nobody's going to remember who you are."

That strategy will be put to use for the first time this summer, when Callupsie embarks on its first tour.

"We have the last half of July booked," Hamby said. "We're going to Chicago and down to Austin and everywhere in between."

Besides being the most obvious, tried-and-true way of self-promotion, the members of Callupsie see touring as a way to satisfy the travel itch without moving to New York or L.A. Unlike past Tulsa bands who've moved to Seattle or wherever immediately after success brushes them across the shoulder (Unwed Sailor, Aqueduct and Ester Drang all moved on to bigger cities years ago), Callupsie has no plans to leave, and each member seems firmly committed to the idea of remaining a Tulsa band.

"If we can get to the touring stage that we want to, there's no point in moving out of Tulsa," Sutliff said. "To me, my ideal situation is to be able to tour and support myself that way, but also live here, because it's a small, simple place."

"It's the greatest place in the world to set up shop," Hamby continued. "It's centrally located. We can go anywhere."

- Urban Tulsa Weekly

By Jennifer Chanellor

On the eve of their debut CD drop,the underground rockers take stock

Aaron Hamby carefully
cocked his lunchtime Red
Stripe, turning the bottle so
that the lemon afloat inside
didn’t block its mouth.
“I’m not being facetious,
but I’ve learned that I can
pretty much get anything I
want,” he said and sipped,
“I just obsess about it until
something happens.”
Indeed, a fitful fo rtitude
drives the slim and seem-
ingly unimposing Hamby, as
if he’s powerless to curb the
crests and ebbs — and elec-
trifying surges — of creative
energy that flow from him.
Music. Performing. Film-
making. Writing.
Living.
Take, for example, his
indie rock band Callupsie.
Its debut, self-titled album
will be unveiled at a CD
release party and show on
Saturday at Blank Slate.
What started as a two-
piece “joke” band at a
Tulsa house party a couple
of years ago turned into an
underground phenomenon
a little more than a year ago,
swelled to a quartet, then
flooded into Tulsa’s main-
stream when it won 2007’s
Spot Music Award Rising
Star award.
Ever since, the young
band felt pulled into the
studio, to create its first full-
length record, he said.
“Last year, it was recorded
quickly in two parts, in two
sessions, over two days . . .”
he said.
He paused, and rubbed
his hand over his tattooed
left forearm. There, delicate
black ink of a scissor-tailed
flycatcher hovers alongside
half of a tribal-esque, black
and red figure 8 swirl design
gleaned from the album
cover of tragic music idol
Elliott Smith.
The top of his right bicep
holds the second half of the
twist.
“ . . . And pre- and post-
cancer,” he finished.
Last fall, Hamby was diag-
nosed with testicular cancer,
which required immediate
surgery.
“There was me just fine,
then there was me with
cancer, then there was me
post-surgery,” he sighed.
And, with stitches still in
and a doctor’s advice to take
things easy, his muse refused
to rest.
“I couldn’t stop my mind. I
drove to the studio, and I was
scribbling down lyrics as I
went,” he said.
He arrived for day two at
Armstrong Recording studio
in Tulsa, where Stephen
Egerton led the process.
The local producer and
engineer (and guitarist in
influential punk act the
Descendents) has worked
with the band almost since
its inception, he said.
In the studio, Hamby’s hur-
ried lyrics became, in part,
the emotional wail “I am my-
self!” in “Poltergeist Lights,”
where Hamby said he literally
writhed on the studio floor in
pain as he sang.
“I could feel those sutures
pulling out,” he said.
“I could feel everything
slipping.”
The hugging
connection
At times, Hamby’s voice
would go deceptively wan
— probably because his vo-
cal cords hadn’t yet caught
up to his brain.
The lunchtime obsession
was a 1961 Gibson Les Paul
SG Jr. that he found at a local
pawn shop. For an authentic
vintage, it’s cheap: $8,000.
“I considered trading all
of my guitars for that one,”
he said. “Man, I want that
guitar. . . . My Telecaster is
clean and trebley, but I need
something that I can punch
and blow up.”
He definitely meant that
figuratively.
Gibson or no, Callupsie’s
music does all of the above
already.
Its chemistry is such that
potent highs and bright am-
bitions can quickly dilute in
a deluge of thrumming angst
and rage.
It is not irony.
It is honest-to-God intensity.
In the cool afternoon dim
of Kilkenny’s restaurant,
bandmate Clay Welch joined
Hamby for a break.
“We both bought a guitar
in the last month,” he
laughed.
“Actually, Aaron bought
two. He’s like that some-
times.”
That segues into a tale
of how, several years ago,
Hamby “practically stole” a
piano from up-and-coming
Tulsa act The Effects.
“They were in that recent
(April) Spin magazine article
with us,” he said. “It remind-
ed me of a story. . . . I looked
for weeks for a Rhodes (elec-
tric) piano. I looked every-
where. The Effects were so
desperate to get money for
the road that one of ’em sold
me his Rhodes for, like, $150.
He probably could have sold
it for $1,500.”
Welch said, “That’s called
karma.”
“Yeah, that was also the
first thing I had to sell when
I got evicted because I was
broke,” Hamby laughed.
Welch chuckled, too. “Now
those guys could probably
each buy a Rhodes if they
wanted, and where are we?”
Hamby reiterated. “We’re
broke. That’s karma, too.”
As another sip dropped
his Red Stripe to the half-full
mark, he stopped to think.
His eyes gleamed.
“Really, everything is a
sick, recurring dream to
me,” he laughed.
“The only reason we’ve
done anything as a band is
because, for some reason,
people feel the need to lift
their voices with us.
“It’s an obsession — a
compulsive connection we
have. The fact that people
come out and support us
blows my mind,” he said.
“There’s an awful lot of
hugging going on in Tulsa
these days.”
- The Tulsa World

Wednesday, November 07, 2007
By Charles Martin

To create great music, it’s a good idea to surround oneself with great musicians. Callupsie lead singer Aaron Hamby claims two guitar heroes in his band: Sam Ewing on bass and gypsy jazz guitarist Clay Welch on lead. Hamby said that they, along with drummer Lizzy Wattoff, “put the meat” on his songs.

Callupsie has built a buzz in Tulsa with its airy melodies and subtle jazz instrumentation, tied together with punk-funk beats. The band is starting to play outside of Tulsa in anticipation of its forthcoming album, to be released in early 2008.

“We feel we’ve made a dent in Tulsa and I want to do that in other towns,” Hamby said, who’s also scoped out the international market while he toured Europe with Tulsa band Unwed Sailor.

TULSA SCENE
Unwed Sailor is one of several Tulsa bands, including Aqueduct, that migrated from Oklahoma in search of greener pastures, leaving the Tulsa indie scene dangerously depleted, Hamby said. Tulsa musicians and fans have managed to rebuild the scene, and Hamby said he hopes bands like Callupsie can help end the area’s musical brain-drain.

“The scene is starting to grow here and we want to act as ambassadors and bring other bands here,” he said.

Callupsie will take the stage at the LiT Lounge, 209 Flaming Lips Alley, at 8 p.m. Saturday with El Paso Hot Button and Church of the Snake. Tickets are $6. —Charles Martin - Oklahoma Gazette

By MATT ELLIOTT World Scene Writer
5/27/2007

Bands, clubs and promoters create a vibrant, original music scene


Leslie Hall of Leslie and the Lys sprang onto the Mooch and Burn's stage clad in gold Spandex pants as slick as her Crisco rhymes, backed by a keytar player and turn-table girl, both dressed up like extras from "Logan's Run."

The audience of about 50 sweaty dudes and their girls, fueled by Budweiser and cigarettes, crowded the stage as the Ames, Iowa, gem-sweater fan spat her nimble suburban shopping mall raps, leaning wide-eyed into the crowd with her blond hair on her shoulders.

"Shoot them in the brains if you want to live!," she shouted on her song, "Zombie Killer," looking as if she had been dressed by Elvis and Ziggy Stardust's tailors, tailors who maybe had drunk a little too much of Ken Kesey's Kool-Aid.

Leslie and the Lys has become an Internet phenomenon this year, earning her a spot on MTV's "TRL" with her bizarre synth/rap songs and traveling gem-sweater museum.

Where she performed, the Mooch and Burn, at 222 N. Main St., is part of a growing underground music scene exclusive to a few local venues, all located within feet of each other. Unique underground local and national bands jam that
venue and the Soundpony up the street, and when that's paired with the myriad of shows each week at Cain's Ballroom, this little stretch of Main Street is jumping.

The local bands that haunt the Soundpony and Mooch and Burn, which also hosts dance parties, perform their inventive material while also putting on a live show that makes their music not just another backdrop for drinking. Think groups such as Elliott the Letter Ostrich, Stevedore, HipHopotamus, Callupsie, I Said Stop, Ghosts and the Congratulations.

You might even see some celebrities at Soundpony. Following a Stardeath and White Dwarfs show at Cain's Ballroom earlier this month, Steven Drozd of the Flaming Lips was hanging out outside the club.

The venues draw a 20-something crowd of students, young professionals and artists lured by their no-fronts feel, away from the sordid meat-market of polo shirts and miniskirts at other nightspots. And don't think the crowd stands around, arms folded; many of these patrons come to dance.

Some observers compared the isolated scene to the halcyon days of Davit Souders' club, Ikon, in the 1990s. Others describe a community of artists, a couple of venues and some local promoters who help each other out with a do-it-yourself ethic and the love of music.

The bands and venues do little advertising but instead use the free online peer network Myspace to get the word out on their shows.

"Something's going on," said Matt Miner, the guitarist for Ghosts, while sipping on a beer after the Lesley and the Lys show at the Mooch and Burn. "Something's alive."

The venues


After the Starlight Mints show at Cain's earlier this month, a crowd of about 150 people could be seen packed into the Soundpony.

They were strung out the door, into the parking spaces in front and along the sidewalk, peering around the posters tacked onto the picture window, taking in a show from Callupsie.

The group's indie Telecaster guitar rock bled through the walls and into the street. To get inside --as is often the case at Soundpony -- patrons sometimes must climb over a couch, because the audience bunches up at the front of the establishment in the only wide open place in the narrow bar.

"The Soundpony is the best place in town to play. They're always friendly to not only their customers but to the bands that play," said Bart Ford, who runs Under the Mooch, a local CD and vinyl store.

The co-owner, Congratulations drummer Josh Gifford, doesn't charge a cover but gives the bands free beer and a percentage of the bar sales.

Bicycles hang from the ceiling of the bar at 409 N. Main St. and a deck is out back.

Cover bands need not apply.

"If we book an act, it is understood that you will not come in and play cover songs," Gifford said. "And if you do choose to do that, you probably will not play our bar again."

The Mooch and Burn is the less conventional of the two, the most speakeasy-like.

Flash back to the night of the Leslie and the Lys show. The club is just south of the Soundpony and when it first opened in January, was inconspicuous to the say the least. The only thing marking its existence was the word "BAR" scrawled in black Sharpie over its white doors.

"Do you know what time the doors open?" a guy manning the door for the night asked. "I'm just here helping somebody out. Everybody went to dinner."

The club's owner, Matt Anderson, showed up a few minutes later and strode down a long corridor lined with discarded objects including a huge broken sign, ending at the entrance to the wide-open main room in which tables and chairs surround a half-circle bar. Some of the seats look like they were yanked out of an old movie theater.

The venue is darkly lit with fixtures from a now-closed Chinese restaurant, Ming Palace, Anderson said.

"I grew up in Tulsa at a time period where there was a lot of good things going on with music," said Anderson, a tall bespectacled and long-haired man who left for college in 1991. Cain's and the Ikon, hosting groups from Pavement to Mudhoney, were booking good shows, but that later stopped for a time, he said.

He decided a few years ago to open a club, what would become Mooch and Burn.

A few miles away from that one-block area, some of these bands will play earlier shows -- much to the neighbors' chagrin -- at Under the Mooch, a CD and vinyl store at 1425 S. Harvard Ave.

The store's owner, Bart Ford, said he opened the store in June last year as a place to sell music from bands that are off the beaten path, bands like the ones playing at Mooch and Burn and Soundpony.

Ford also wanted to provide an outlet for locals who had a CD to sell.

"The local stuff does sell, and I have people that go and browse the local artist section just to find something new and to support the local scene. And I'll carry any local artist you've got, any sort of CD, even if it's homemade and you just want to sell it for $2."

While stores such as Starship Records & Tapes also sell local artists' CDs, Under the Mooch is the only one that hosts these performances. People don't always show up, but the shows are free and it gets people in his store regardless, Ford said.

Like Soundpony, Ford wants nothing to do with cover bands.

"It's all about original music and originality and doing something. It's not that I don't want any cover songs . . . If I go seek out a band, it's because I like them and I think they're doing something creative and original."

The bands


There wouldn't be a scene without the bands.

Some of them have been around for a while, like Elliott the Letter Ostrich's zombie swinging-synth punk pop rock. A few, such as I Said Stop!, Callupsie and Congratulations have only been together a few years, but each already has a steady local following.

These bands have a do-it-yourself attitude and enough creativity to make some of the most catchy indie rock around.

Letter Ostrich's Jhohn Casio and Airon Bloodbeard turn their shows into a carnival, featuring everything from fake blood to abstract zombies with props the band cobbled together.

The band's infectious songwriting on such songs as "Shake It in the Uh Huh" makes the songs stick like peanut butter on the brain.

Casio and Bloodbeard believe the scene is the life of Tulsa.

"We all have to try to somehow support each other," Casio said. "Sometimes we may not all disagree on the same thing, but we have to agree that we are the minority in Tulsa, Okla.," he said.

"There are bands that play Soundpony that I may not personally care for, but I respect what they're doing because it's something different," Bloodbeard said.

Callupsie, on the local label Hard Work Records, is one of the most interesting newer bands kicking around. The band also may be one of the ones who'll be the quickest to get snapped up by a national label, such as Seattle's Barsuk Records, home for former Tulsan David Terry's Aqueduct.

With Aaron Hamby on guitar, the band is recording a debut album with the help of Stevedore's Noah Richardson, who runs Hard Work with his brother and bandmate, Jeff Richardson.

Callupsie is aware of what's going on here.

"There's a wealth of music going down, you know what I mean?," Hamby said. "Like, there's a ton of really good things that're happening. They do go unnoticed. I'll never, like, bad mouth any band or anything . . . but I do see a lot of the same names in the paper.

"There's some people out there that're just making some phenomenal music."

And Ghosts is one of the most prolific bands of the bunch, having already recorded dozens of albums of their Elton-John-in-space rock, spawned out of late night beer-swilling and God only knows what else. The band also has a new album coming out and are regulars at the Soundpony.

The promoters


None of the national bands would be here if it weren't for the promoters who seek them out. Among them is Bracken Klar, a children's librarian who runs ABR Productions (which stands for three people who run it, April, Bracken and Robbo).

Klar started the company two years ago when he and a couple friends grew tired of driving to Texas to see the bands they want to see, bands such as Smog and Caribou.

"I think we've made a total of $40 off our shows. Usually we end up breaking even or losing money," said Klar. "Luckily, I own my car."

In addition to performing with his electro-pop group Stevedore, Jeff Richardson also puts on shows in the area, bringing in groups such as Unwed Sailor, while also pushing local acts such as the Redheaded Stepchildren, Secret Post and Callupsie.

Like Klar, Richardson sometimes funnels the money he earns working an IT job at Bama Pie into this underground music scene, occassionally booking shows such as Hard Work concert series.

"You've gotta save and scrimp to lose money," he said, ruefully. "It's just for the love of the music. You've got people with (ABR's) kind of integrity who're willing to lose money to bring in a band they think is awesome, even if very few other people have heard of them."

The point of it all is "Community, having a scene that is functional without the back biting and stuff that you see in more advanced scenes. A community that's not fragmented and at odds with each other," Richardson said.
- The Tulsa World

By Josh Kline

Callupsie

Callupsie

Little Mafia Records

Callupsie's self-titled debut is a valiant attempt to capture the energy and goodwill that the band's live shows have become known for. The good news for local fans is that the endeavor largely succeeds, even if songs occasionally falter under the duress of rushed recording methods.

Quickly produced over two sessions by Stephen Egerton at Armstrong studios, the album maintains a loosey-goosey approach that greatly complements the quartet's jazz-punk aesthetic. Because guitarists Aaron Hamby and Clay Welch specialize in the kind of intricate, interweaving guitar melodies that must be executed flawlessly in order to succeed, any wrong note or false moment could potentially derail an entire song. Thankfully, these missteps are few and far between. Songs like "Poltergeist Lights" and "The Murderous Type" pop with color and pathos, the always-impressive, reverb-heavy guitar work supported by drummer Liz Wattoff's and bassist Sam Ewing's (since replaced by Daniel Sutliff) utilitarian rhythm section, and Hamby's quirky, heartfelt vocal melodies effectively ground each song with a deranged playfulness.

The majority of the album is well-paced, but the last few tracks start to meander. "Lemons", a mewithoutYou-type foray into spoken-word hardcore, is an interesting digression but feels awkward and out of place on the album. The same goes for the following track, "For Ben," an instrumental tangent that's easily the least successful of ten tracks. Last song "The End" comes close to recapturing the lost energy, but is ultimately marred by a schizophrenic and unnecessary last forty-five seconds.

These are forgivable and expected flaws, and the bottom line is that the album is a catchy, largely successful first effort from a band that Tulsans should be proud to call their own. - The Urban Tulsa

And art, and toward developing an original music scene in Tulsa

By Jamie Pierson

Music is often the canary in the coalmine of a city's ability to attract "the creative class". If a city can produce and support unique, exciting, and quality bands, it's likely that there must be some cool places for them to play and record stores where you can buy their album, cheap apartments to support the artists, and high levels of tolerance for "alternative" lifestyles. Cuz we all know, especially those of us who have lived with them, them musicians just ain't normal.

But when I say unique, exciting, and quality bands, I mean a band that has something no one else has, doing something no one else has done, and that something is beautiful. Those kinds of bands are hard to find, and Tulsa has produced a few. But this week, I wanna shine a light on what one band is doing to tear it up and break it down in T-Town.

Callupsie call themselves "the hardest working band with no ambition". They also call themselves "the North Korea of Tulsa bands," and compare themselves to an octopus, or a tarantula, or the unholy offspring of the union between the two. For their full bio and history, see www.myspace.com/callupsie, but I'll briefly describe here the latest chapter in their history.

Lead guitarist and vocalist Aaron Hamby was enlisted to play guitar with the progressive instrumental band Unwed Sailor, fronted by Tulsa native Jonathan Ford. Callupsie was, at the time, recovering from a member shift, trading local jazz guitarist Clay Welch for a bassist, Sam Ewing. And when Unwed Sailor swept Hamby off for a whirlwind European tour, I don't think I was the only one wondering if this might be the end.

But NO! Upon Hamby's return, not only did the band swing into immediate action, Welch rejoined alongside Ewing, which, along with the only drummer that could give The Red Alert's Christy E. a run for her money in the cuteness department, Elizabeth Wattoff, made Callupsie a four piece. (Thus the octopus/spider comparison, get it? Four people, eight arms? Yeah, I know. They said it, not me.)

This Fri., Dec. 9, at the good old Sound Pony Lounge at 409 N. Main St., Callupsie will debut the new line up. The ever steady DJ Nutter will be leading off around 10pm, and the show will be, as always, completely free. However, a percentage of the bar that night will be going to organizations to support the deaf, so even if you think everything I say is total bullshit, you should still go out and shotgun a beer for the kids.

I was recently granted the sacred privilege of sitting in on a practice session with the band, gaining a preview of their new material. Let me tell you, if there ever was anything wrong with this band's sound, it is now right. When they were two guitars, the sound was twangy, when the bass replaced that sound they were heavier, but now the fullness of the four instruments brings all the elements together. Those who missed Clay's plucky melodies, those who were fans of Sam's butch bass lines, will find everything they need in Callupsie's new, finally complete, sound.

Said the band of the new line up and the music that comes with it: "It's so . . . Callupsie!" bubbled Wattoff, who by day teaches middle school, and was recently named teacher of the year.

"Ten times better than I expected," said Welch, who's one of Tulsa's incredible young jazz musicians, sessioning with Harmonious Monk, Jesse Aycock, and his own groups.

"Really natural," claimed Ewing, a multi-instrumental player who has played drums in metal projects like Agrocrag and Happy News Please.

"It gets epic," remarked Hamby. "I sat on a couch in Berlin for three days straight and wrote this stuff. I only got up to go to the bathroom and bum money from my bandmates for pizza." That's where great art comes from.

Trying to describe Callupsie is like trying to describe any great band. You can't. They sound like themselves and that's what makes them beautiful. The band's influences range from Elliot Smith to Interpol to Explosions in the Sky to Bootsie Collins, though they all emphatically agree on the infinite value of Fleetwood Mac and The Smashing Pumpkins.

Hamby described the band as, "A mirror of Allen Ginsberg" (this is the point that everyone else in the room groaned).

"No, no, really. We're experimental and intelligent, though we're not the best looking." And the band wants to make clear that they are NOT influenced by other "famous" Oklahoma indie rock bands.

"None of us listen to the Flaming Lips," insisted Hamby. Instead, they cite Tulsa bands Antenna Lodge, And There Stand Empires, and Ester Drang with gusto as bands that have influenced them as they grew up in Oklahoma's music scene.

Though the band had the opportunity last summer to sign with illustrious indie labels Polyvinyl and Suicide Squeeze, they've decided they want to keep the whole operation in the family. Their first EP is available exclusively at Under The Mooch Records (where it is a top seller) and at their shows. Come this spring, they'll be releasing the new material on Oklahoma City label Little Mafia (label of This Was The Year To Lose Friends, El Paso Hot Button, and The Octopus Project).

"It's not our goal to be on tour all the time," said Hamby. "We want to be a Tulsa thing. The community is the fifth member of the band. We exist because people come to see us."

This is a band that truly loves the scene and the town that they were born from. I've never known musicians so glad to see each and every person who comes to their shows.

"Even in practice," said Wattoff, "we picture all our friends hearing our music." And that's what makes it worthwhile. As Welch said, and as you'll observe if you come see their live show, "You can feel the love."

The community that surrounds Callupsie is one that might strike some people as fertile ground for the kind of phenomenon that happened in Omaha with Saddle Creek Records, or in Olympia with K Records. But before we can act on our potential for a revolution, we'd have to clean out the dead weight.

"The only downer about Tulsa," said Hamby, "is you have these bands that can't think for themselves. Who regurgitate other people's songs, regurgitate Top 40 hits, who get paid shows every week but who never tour. They'd rather play at a casino out South than play at the Sound Pony for free and make it art. This is why we've gotta have bands like Harmonious Monk, The Redheaded Step Children, Elliot The Letter Ostrich, Jesse Aycock, Stevedore, people like DJ Nutter, who has been snubbed by so many venues but he's still sticking it out. Or Bart Ford, who is there [at Under the Mooch Records] every day. Or Dustin Cleveland [a long time promoter and local musician] who drives back from Arkansas every weekend to support the scene. People who work hard."

As long as people are willing to sacrifice, we'll have a scene and make art and Tulsa will be progressive. You've gotta sacrifice for your art and your town. It's not just about going out for $2 draws."

It's a passionate love for their town and for music that motivates this band. Tulsa could not ask for more from a set of local artists. There are many others who unite these passions, the upcoming show at the May Rooms Gallery featuring art inspired by the bordello that formerly inhabited the building, is an example.

But Callupsie is fighting hard against those that would settle for artistic and civic mediocrity. And they are celebrating those who rise above what's expected and what's easy, who bring something new and beautiful to the table and do it with all their heart. And Tulsa would do well to follow their example. - The Urban Tulsa