Dat Ting in Tulsa
How in the hell did I end up in Tulsa for a month in Leon Russell’s studio with an egotistic, Italian, God-bothering charismatic alongside a cowboy producer from Tejas, a drugged up Bangladeshi taxi driver in a Billy Jack hat, David Bowie’s recording console, and Eddie Van Halen’s guitars? Read on brother…
The Project
Dispatch: Tulsa, Oklahoma.
Initial plan: 2 weeks.
Project: Recording vocals with Carman for a new record.
Location: The Church Studio.
Producer: “Cowboy” Chris Harris.
A&R Man: [not in the memory banks]
Label: [not in the memory banks]
Tulsa point of contact: Steve Ripley of The Tractors, Ripley/Kramer Guitars, owner of The Church Studio.
Flights: American Airlines, BNA → ATL → DFW → TUL
Hotel: Conveniently located on the complete opposite side of town from the studio.
Transport: No rental car, only taxi cabs via Tulsa Yellow Cab.
The Artist
Anyone who knows Carman knows he is one weird dude. Tell anyone you are working on a Carman record and you’ll get a subtle wink-wink and a nod-nod, followed by a sarcastic yet sympathetic “oooooh… so how’s that going?”
For as much of an oddball the guy is, Carman’s success cannot be denied. Dude could attract a crowd. He’s headlined some of the largest CCM concerts ever - concerts of 50,000+ and 70,000+ and another with 80,000+.
From what I remember hearing, all of Carman’s concerts were free admission, with a pass the hat contribution taken up during a key “Come to Jesus” moment. Those moments having a way of guilting your hand into your front pocket for little “cleanse my soul money.” If legend holds true, Carman had huge custom road cases built at Nashville Custom Case to carry all the cash he’d gather on the road.
When he wasn't making music, Carman was hosting events on The Trinity Broadcasting Network’s “Praise The Lord” show - that’s Jim & Tammy Faye Bakker’s old outfit. In terms of that whole charismatic, God-bothering, “Jesus Loves Him Some Money” scene, Carman ran in the thick of it.
The Producer
“Cowboy” Chris Harris. Legend. This is a guy I watched confidently walk into Malibu’s Moonbeams Restaurant on an insanely busy Saturday night sans reservation and no real plan - and score an ocean-view table! I saw it happen! We arrived at the restaurant, and I hit the pisser thinking we didn’t stand a chance in hell of seeing a Moonbeams menu that night. Harris starts flirting with the hostess, learns they both grew up in the same town and only one street (plus forty years) apart. I came out of the pisser and she’s walking us over to the prime ocean-view section, bypassing at least 30-40 people who had probably been waiting hours. She smiles, hands us the much sought after menus, and says “your server will be right with you…”
We’ve been to NYC together and an awesome meal at Anthony Bourdain’s Les Halles between sessions with Kristen Chenoweth. We’ve been to Hollywood & Vine for some sessions in the legendary Capitol Records Studio A with awesome dinners at Musso & Frank. We left Dallas and Santa Monica in our wake as well.
Harris’ antics on KLTY with Jon Rivers, CCM’s utmost gatekeeper of the radio waves, are legend. They are FM radio gold, and Nashville lore - including the time Rivers overdubbed himself (sans permission) playing drums on a single Harris produced. Rivers actually played it on the air - and it was awful! Harris used to come on Rivers’ show all the time with a “Cowboy Chris” routine that was hilarious. Then Rivers once banned him from the KLTY radio waves for 2 days after some wires got bent during a comedy routine.
For this trip he was at the helm of Carman’s new project.
The Town
Tulsa in 1995 was a suck-butt town. Boring. No cool bars, nightlife, tourism, nothing. Our in-town entertainment consisted of going out to see the “hands of prayer” sculpture one morning at Oral Roberts University - that was a thrilling 2 minutes.
We did find a legendary steakhouse in town - Jamil’s, founded in 1945. Picture the gaudiest maroon and gold ornate grandma living room you can imagine - that was the vibe. There were tapestries and autographed 8x10s all over the joint, coupled with the intense smell of beef searing on hickory coals. This Jamil dude probably had 27 autographed Waylon Jennings photos on the walls, and another 41 of Don Williams. Merle was all over the walls as well, and so was Willie.
There was a bit of a problem on our first visit when Jamil didn’t want to let me in wearing my t-shirt from The Cult’s “Love Removal Machine” world tour circa 1990. We sorted things out once I pointed to the pictures on the wall and the outfits Merle, Willie, and Waylon were wearing while dining and posing for the framed photos with the restaurant staff.
Aside from Jamil’s there was some kind of deli that was pretty good and then some kind of breakfast place that was ok, but we sent a lot of receipts for big steaks and bottles of red wine from Jamil’s back to the record label’s A&R man.
Billy Jack
This was 1995. I don’t think I had a cellphone at the time, and we certainly didn’t have an Uber app. Regretfully, after an unfortunate “rent some fun” mishap while in Dallas for a project the prior year, the record label didn’t want to provide us a rental car. The A&R man decided we’d be better off - and safer - using taxis. When we landed at the airport we called for a Yellow Cab.
A little Bangladeshi dude in a straight up Billy Jack hat showed up and asked us where we were going. He has wearing a fancy denim shirt buttoned up to the top button, tucked into Wranglers with a black leather belt and matching black leather boots.
When he got out and started helping us load our luggage and 2” analog tapes into his trunk, I’m sure he was wishing he’d caught another fare - those things were heavy and we had an entire album’s worth!
We hopped in the cab and started rolling. Billy Jack proudly announced that his plan was to “slide down Broadway” to avoid the traffic. At 10:30pm in Tulsa I’m not sure what kind of traffic he was avoiding - we were the only damn car I saw on the road. He then started telling us about his heart attack last week while excitedly showing us his nitroglycerin tablets and amyl nitrate inhaler. This dude was tripping on some serious shit! Dude thinks he’s seeing traffic, but these amyl nitrates can fry your retinas!
We told him we’d be in town for 2 weeks and we would require transport. He gave us his business card and insisted we call him anytime of the day or night. He would be our transport. He then instructed us on how to dial his pager and send messages via numeric code. We could never remember his real name so we just called him Billy Jack - he thought it was hilarious, even though he probably had no clue who Billy Jack was!
The Studio
Leon Russell built The Church Studio in Tulsa sometime around 1972, converting an old Episcopal church into a super vibey studio that he eventually sold to Steve Ripley of Kramer/Ripley guitars in the late 80’s. Steve graciously welcomed us at the front door around 11pm when we showed up and started pulling our 2” tapes out of Billy Jack’s trunk.
Steve had the studio outfitted with a Neve 8068 he bought from the famous Power Station Studio B. Talk about hits! This console had a pedigree! Among several dozen other classics, David Bowie’s “Let’s Dance” was recorded on this console - one of my favorite records. Steve also had a killer vintage Studer 24 track tape machine, loads of great tube mics, and a serious guitar collection.
Steve Ripley was famous for building a “stereo guitar” for Kramer where each string had a pan-pot that could send it to the left speaker, or both speakers, or the right speaker. Eddie VanHalen used the guitar on the Diver Down and 1984 records, and afterwards Steve became Eddie’s main guitar tech. He was a seriously cool dude and had recently scored a big hit with his own band The Tractors when we met.
The Sessions, and Dat Ting
On day 1 we were supposed to get fired up at 11am. I was setup and ready to go at 10. I had a good mix up on the famous Neve, a good headphone mix for our vocalist, and a killer tube Neumann U47 ready to capture the magic - or whatever sound was about to happen. Carman had a weird half-singing / half-rapping / somewhat loping, lazy baritone chant thing that he did. Yeah, it was a really odd vibe.
Noon passed, and by 1 we were hungry so we called Billy Jack for a run to the local deli that came highly recommended. We left a note on the front door for Carman. We returned around 2 with still no sign of our artist. Finally, around 3, Carman showed up with a big entrance - black sunglasses, black turtleneck, black pants, black leather shoes, and I’m pretty sure some black hair dye.
Young guns, take note, when the artist shows up 4 hours late on day 1, you might as well call the wife and tell her to go ahead order those new curtains she’s been wanting. It’s money making time!
I’m sure some apologies were exchanged or whatever, but after an hour or so of bullshitting Carman finally slithered in behind the microphone and we started dialing in a vocal sound for the first song. At 6, after less than 2 hours of us working, Carman’s brother showed up at the studio - black sunglasses, black turtleneck, black pants, black leather shoes, and I’m pretty sure some black hair dye…
At this point Tulsa, or at least our little corner of it, went full Goodfellas.
“Yo, yo, Carman. We got dat ting tonight. Dat ting! Remember?” his brother said as I held the talkback mic button open so he could convey this cryptic mobster messaging into the headphones. “Ohhhh yeah, yeah… dat ting! We gotta do dat ting! What time is dat ting?” Carman asked. “At 7 dood! Dat ting is at 7. We gotta leave now dood!” his brother urged.
Carman looked at us through the studio glass and slowly leaned into the Neumann Tube U47. In the best tone and performance captured during the day’s now truncated vocal session he said to us; “Hey guyz, hey guyz… I got dis ting tonight. I gotta go do dis ting. I’ll see youz guyz tomorrow. 11? Dat ok youz guyz?”. And just like that Carman dropped the headphones and peaced out - jetting down Tulsa’s E 3rd Street in his Cadillac, just the taillights in sight.
And So It Begins
I’m going to make a long story short and tell you now. This scene happened every day for the next 2 weeks. Every single day. I’m talking daily, like your favorite comic strip. We would set the session start for 11, Carman would show up around around 3, we’d start working around around 4, and his brother would show up around 6 talking about dat ting. We never understood what kind of tings were going on, but deez tings needed Carman’s immediate and personal attention daily.
After Carman would jet off in his Caddy we’d call Billy Jack, get a ride to Jamil’s, eat steak, have some wine, and do it all again the next day. Like clockwork. My wife was not only ordering the drapes but also the matching shams, while booking a trip to 30A.
Our daily 2-hour sessions meant we weren't making much progress, so we had to call the A&R man at the record label and tell him our 2 weeks in Tulsa were now going to be 4. We also told him we needed more money for ourselves, the hotelier, the studio, and Billy Jack. Double the budget, cuz deez tings were killing us!
The A&R man informed us the label was not going to be happy.
The Guitars
At one point while we waited for Carman to show up for a session, Tulsa boredom got the best of me. I started exploring the back rooms and hidden hallways of The Church. I found the old baptistry, a lot of old library-type rooms loaded with old books, and a hallway housing some old offices. One office had a square window in the door and when I walked by something caught my eye. It was set up as some kind of workshop with a large work table, a lot of tools and woodworking equipment, and a lot of guitars in various states of assembly. These guitars looked very familiar…
I opened the door, turned on the light, and I was gobsmacked. These were Eddie VanHalen’s guitars! No question, the 5150, the Frankenstrat, all of his famous guitars were in this room. What in the hell?
I turned off the light, closed the door, and snuck away as if I’d just seen something I wasn’t supposed to see. Later that day, however, when Steve stopped by the studio I confessed to the snooping - this being a church and everything...
Steve laughed and invited me up for a closer look. He explained that he was setting up EVH’s guitars for their tour, having previously set them up for the recording sessions on their “Balance” record. While I looked around in awe, this genuine saint of a man strung up Frankenstrat and let me play it. What a treat!
I hadn't anticipated any 35mm-worthy moments in freaking Tulsa so I did not pack my camera - but now I had a 35mm worthy moment! The next day I had Billy Jack stop at a drugstore so I could buy one of those cardboard throwaway cameras that took 12 pictures and then you mailed it off for developing.
Steve was happy to take some pics of me holding the guitars and then I took a few exterior pictures of the studio for posterity. I went back to the drugstore and a kid there packed it up and mailed the little camera off for developing.
The photos never arrived at my house. Lost. Gone for good. I called Kodak. I mailed Kodak a letter. I called the Tulsa drugstore and mailed them a letter too. I was looking for that pimple-faced little shit who packed up my camera. Nothing. That little Tulsa bastard screwed me, so you’ll just have to smile and believe…
The Conclusion
Trust me, a month in Tulsa recording Carman was not the stuff dreams are made of. It was more a marathon of studio survival. Sadly Carman passed away in 2021. I hold no grudges, no ill-will, it was simply not my thing. He was a nice enough guy in the studio and easy to work with, despite the truancy.
On the other hand, the legend of Chris Harris at the helm as producer made our stint of living on Tulsa time an absolute blast. Steaks, wine, gut-wrenching belly laughs, and never a dull moment with Steve Ripley, Billy Jack, and a few friends we met along the way - all billed to an A&R man who was losing his shit as he watched us double up the vocal overdub budget and rack up bills at Jamil’s.
Steve Ripley was an awesome guy and a gracious host. He was full of great stories of rock & roll and R&B from Texas and Oklahoma. He’d played all the old honky-tonks in the area. Our time with him was unforgettable, and I’m thankful there were so many tings for Carman to attend to since it meant more time hanging out in the studio with Steve, who sadly passed away in 2019.
Billy Jack was a total trip - sniffing amyl nitrate, chomping on nitro tabs, and jetting us around Tulsa whilst avoiding traffic that only he could see. It’s doubtful it was safe to be riding around with him, but is was a hell of a lot of fun. We lived to tell the tale.
The Church Studio sounded awesome. I only wish we could’ve put that Neve to good use. It now makes its home in Bob Clearmountain’s tracking studio in LA as a part of the Apogee Studios his wife owns. You can see a photo here.
I’m still hoping against hope those photos of Eddie’s show up in my mailbox one day, and I’m still looking for that piece of Oklahoma cow dung who lost them.
Thus ends my one and only trip to Tulsa, OK.
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Postscript: After our final night in Tulsa, Billy Jack came to pick us up at 5am for our flight home. The hotel had a security gate across the parking entrance and the attendant did not want to let him in.
Billy Jack was acting crazy - amyl nitrate crazy. We could see him waiting on the other side of the gate, and we could hear him yelling. We grabbed some of our luggage and started walking his way.
He was violently shaking the gate and pointing toward the hotel lobby in an absolute rage. “WILL YOU TELL THOSE ASSHOLES YOU CALLED A CAB!!!!” He was screaming at the top of his lungs so violently I was afraid a nitro tab was gonna pop out of his neck vein and shoot through the air! He could’ve easily lost an amyl-loaded retina!
The clerk on duty came out of the office looking quite alarmed. She was overly stuffed into polyester, and smoking a long thin cigarette. “Do y’all know this man?” she asked in full Tulsa twang. I looked at her and smiled “Yes ma’am, that’s Billy Jack! Open the gate! We got dat ting to do!”
what a great story Todd - I never get tired of reading your stuff; always very entertaining :)