"Mock and Roll" / One Year Later - by Pete Vogel

Last year I had the pleasure of meeting Mark Stewart, a local filmmaker who debuted his feature film – “Mock and Roll” – at the Gateway Theater in Columbus last November.  This was his debut film and he was showing it to local audiences for the first time. The film was shot primarily in Columbus, so having a hometown debut was both a blessing and a curse, with all the highs and lows that accompany a homecoming of this nature.  Mark’s journey was a little off the beaten path—he left his day job in HR (after working 34 years) to pursue his passion of music and movies, so there was a lot at stake for his Gateway debut as he began his sixth decade.

“Mock and Roll” was a dream come to fruition, a perfect blend of music, satire and storytelling.  It follows a local band (Liberty Mean) that parody another local band (The Black Owls) in their attempt to gain fame and fortune as a cover band.  It’s a mash-up of “The Office,” “This is Spinal Tap” and “Fargo” all rolled into one, with the storyline focused around a cadre of hapless millennials.

In the spirit of “The Odyssey,” Liberty Mean is set to embark on a sojourn to Austin TX to attend the South-by-Southwest (SXSW) Festival, even though they weren’t booked for the event, nor had any idea what to do once they arrived.  They decided to raise funds for the trip by setting up a crowd-funding page, but their contributions were paltry at best—on par with their paying gigs. This didn’t stop them from their quest, however, and they ended up engaging in questionable scientific experiments to raise funds for the trip…..Tomfoolery ensues.

There are many plot twists and turns, so I’ll leave it at that.  If you like music, DIY, dreamers, cameo appearances, satire, mockumentaries and homegrown art, you’ll love “Mock and Roll.”  It’s got something for everyone.

The film has been featured in many festivals since last fall, including the Orlando Film Festival, Oklahoma’s Eyecatcher International Film Festival, Austin’s Revolution Film Festival and Cincy’s Inside the Loop Film Festival.  They received several nominations (Best Comedy, Best Director, Best Editor, etc.) and received awards for Best Feature and Best Original Score. It also took home awards from Cleveland’s Indie Gathering Film Festival. Stewart and company have enjoyed an entire year of basking in the spotlight.  

More good news: “Mock and Roll” is currently available on Amazon for the low price of $9.99.  It’s a perfect stocking stuffer for the holidays. You don’t have to be a member to purchase; you can simply follow the link here: https://amzn.to/2zvFWOE

Congratulations to Mark and his team that brought us “Mock and Roll.” It was a wild ride.  We definitely look forward to the next project! - Pete V.

Trailer for the award-winning Mock & Roll named Best Feature at the Inside The Loop Film Festival and Best Original Score at the EyeCatcher International Film Festival. Also nominated for 8 other awards at festivals ranging from Austin (its World Premiere) to Orlando to Hollywood, Florida to Adrian International including Best Comedy, Actor, Actress, Director, Editing, Poster and Horizon Award.

Catching Up with Mike McGraner - by Pete Vogel

 

Mike McGraner has been a very busy man the past ten years.  

When he’s not working on his album, musing about his own movies, or traveling between Columbus and LA, Mike is seen with his childhood hero, Frederick Peerenboom.

Who is Fred Peerenboom, you may ask?  Hardly anyone knows him by his real name; he’s better known in these parts as Fritz the Nite Owl.  [Ah yes…THAT guy!]

For those reared in Columbus in the 70s and 80s, Fritz the Nite Owl was an iconic part of our childhood.  He’s been a staple of Columbus since 1959, when he took a job as the broadcast booth announcer for WBNS radio.  His smooth baritone and breezy, conversational style was his signature sound and anyone with AM radio could instantly recognize that suave and debonair voice.

Fritz moved to television in 1974 where he hosted a late-night movie program called Nite Owl Theatre, which lasted until 1991—6205 episodes in total.  What was most memorable was his Friday night feature called Double Chiller Theatre: It was back-to-back horror movies with Fritz providing comic relief in between commercial breaks.  

I remember Chiller Theatre vividly, because every Friday night my brother Andy and I would make it our goal to stay up and watch BOTH movies—which wrapped up around 3am—but we never reached our summit.  Fritz was always entertaining: his dry, comic wit, those silly owl glasses, and the campy background effects added flair to the broadcast.  Fritz was an iconic part of Columbus late-night television.  While WCMH-4 enjoyed Johnny Carson, WBNS-10 had Fritz the Nite Owl.

In 1991 Fritz moved to radio, where he broadcasted a late-night jazz program called Nite Owl Jazz, which continued until 2010.  When the show ended, many thought Fritz would fade into obscurity the same way as Flippo the Clown or Lucy from Lucy’s Toyshop.

Enter Mike McGraner.

Mike watched Fritz for the first time as a 6-year-old and loved the quirky host.  “He’s one of my heroes,” he says.  Mike always wanted to make a documentary film about Fritz, and when he heard that Andyman (of 101.1 fame) knew Fritz, they arranged a meeting.

“We spoke for 5 hours the first time we met,” said McGraner.  “We talked about making a film about his life and career, but Fritz said no.”

After some coaxing from his wife—and other colleagues—Fritz decided to proceed with the film.  Little to anyone’s knowledge—except McGraner—there was an audience out there that liked what Fritz the Nite Owl brought to the table.

Filming began in 2010: even though they shot plenty of footage, the documentary was never released.  They abandoned it to begin production on a new concept: bringing Nite Owl Theatre into the 21st century.  

Their idea was simple: Mike, Fritz and a team of writers would produce shows in the spirit of Nite Owl Theatre and release it on the Internet.  Local theatres caught wind of their concept and decided they wanted in: they offered to host these events in their movie theaters.  So Nite Owl Theatre, Version 2.0 plays on the big screen: Fritz is the on-air personality and Mike is producer, director and editor.  They make live appearances as well: Mike and Fritz appear in theaters across Ohio—Columbus, London and Miamisburg, namely—and do their retro act to a new wave of Fritz fans.

In Columbus, both Grandview Theater and Studio 35 provide opportunities to catch the quirky act: each month they host a feature and audiences of every age can enjoy the campy celebrity of Columbus’ very own night owl.  The schedule can be found at www.fritzlives.com.

“We figured we’d do 3 or 4 episodes when this started out,” McGraner says.  “We are currently at 63 episodes.  Our goal is to hit 70 sometime in 2018.”

What nobody expected was this local host actually had a national following.  Michael Dougherty, esteemed director of many A-list movies (Superman Returns, X-Men 2, Trick’r Treat, Krampus) is a native of Columbus and a huge fan of Fritz.  He took that fandom to LA with him and has opened up avenues for Fritz to have celebrity outside of Columbus.  “When locals moved out of town, they opened up opportunities for Fritz to become a national celebrity,” McGraner says.  “Every town had a Fritz,” McGraner said.  “And the production quality for his show was pretty good.  People dug his stuff.  He’s been exposed to a national audience for years now.”

Seven years later, they’re still going strong.  What started out as a film idea that a local kid wanted to make about his hero, it has blossomed into a second life for Mr. Nite Owl and his legion of fans.

“We’re probably going to wrap things up after another 7 or 8 episodes,” McGraner says.  “Fritz will still do the live appearances, but he wants to be done shooting.  He’ll be 83 years old later this month.”  Who’s to blame him—he’s been Fritz the Nite Owl for 44 years!

Mike promotes another event alongside his work with Fritz: Terror From The 80s.  “It’s a monthly double-feature of two 80’s horror films presented back-to-back, Grindhouse style.  I have created a presentation that re-creates the feel of seeing a drive-in double feature.  Each month is themed but the movies remain a mystery.  You can see the series at Studio 35, Grandview Theater and State Theatre in London.”        

His plans don’t stop here.  “Next year I’m launching a series called The Director Series, an educational presentation of the complete chronological works of select directors (one per year).  The first director series will be David Lynch.”  

Mr. McGraner has plenty of irons in his fire.  He also has aspirations of finishing his album and producing/directing a movie based on a song by Quinn Fallon.  The movie is called Heartsick and Mike has every intention of finishing it someday. “If it’s the only movie I do, I’ll be okay with it,” he says.  

For now, it’s about continuing to devote a little more time to his hero, Frederick Peerenboom.  

www.facebook.com/niteowltheatre

www.facebook.com/terrorfromthe80s

www.facebook.com/thedirectorseries

  Pete Vogel is a professional musician, filmmaker and Pencilstorm contributor. Click here to read his excellent reviews of The Rolling Stones and The Who  

Review: Mock and Roll Premiere at Gateway Film Center - by Pete Vogel

 

“We are the best damn Black Owls parody band in the land!” shouts Bun, the drummer for Liberty Mean, a band of hapless Millenials from Columbus, OH.

This line pretty much sums up ‘Mock and Roll’ in a nutshell.  The movie begs as many questions as it answers and it spoke to me on many levels at its Columbus premiere at Gateway Theater this past Sunday: It took a few pages from the theatre of the absurd, sprinkled it with a dash of comic tomfoolery and marinated it in pure goofiness.

Mock and Roll is a mockumentary film about the band Liberty Mean, a four-piece unit of clueless Millenials—comprised of Robin, Tom, Rick and Bun (do you get the joke yet?)—who parody another local band, The Black Owls, for a tiny crowd of followers at various dive bars around Columbus.  The band is basically using their minimal fame to cobble together a documentary that Robin’s brother—Sully—is filming for the band’s archives.  

[Again, this begs more questions than answers, such as: 1.) Why would a local band parody another local band; and 2.) Why would anyone DOCUMENT a local band parodying another local band?]

Such is the theme of ‘Mock and Roll.’  In the spirit of ‘Spinal Tap,’ ‘Best of Show,’ ‘Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure’ and ‘Fargo’—‘Mock and Roll’ follows the life of the band, who come up with insane ideas on how to expand their audience (and revenue).  At first it was parodying bigger acts—such as Foghat and Cheap Trick—but those never got off the ground.  Then they decided to parody their favorite local band, The Black Owls (read: minimal fan base), and rewrite lyrics to the band’s tunes.  

Like most bands, Liberty Mean (who get their name from a lyric from The Black Owls) want to expand their fan base by playing to larger audiences, so they come up with the crazy notion that they should attend South by Southwest (SWSW), the largest music festival in the US.  They have no plan other than to attend the event in Texas: they aren’t booked for the event and have no contacts there.  But they feel they have to go, as if Austin was Mecca and all other details would miraculously fall into place.

The band makes several failed attempts to raise money for the cause: their crowd-funding page (managed by the guitarist’s girlfriend) only raises $27.50, and their gigs pay slightly more than that.  They decide to lend their bodies (and minds) to science in an attempt to raise quick cash, but the ensuing acid trips administered by a local quack only have negative effects on the band (especially Bun).  Bun has a bad trip, quits the band, and considers a solo career (“I can sing too!” he bellows).  After a brief hiatus, Bun rejoins the band and comes up with a third plan: his cousin needs help delivering art, so he talks the band into taking on these shady courier jobs.

This is where the movie takes a page out of ‘Fargo’—but you’ll have to check out the movie to see what I’m talking about!  

The writer and producer, Mark Stewart, says he has no political or social message to convey to his audience, but after sitting in the theater for two hours I came away with plenty.  The first message conveyed to me was the fact that many Millenials use ‘magical thinking’ in pursuit of their artistic dreams.  I’ve seen this many times in my career: I’m a professional musician/instructor and have worked with dozens of Millenials.  They think that technology alone will make it possible for them to attain their goals in five easy steps.  Many think they can write/record/produce an album, put it on Spotify and become instant millionaires without ever leaving home.  Or they could show up at open mic, play a couple tunes, and hundreds of people will buy their EPs.  Or this: Go to SXSW, play a venue on Sixth St. and get discovered by the next Phil Spector (true story).  

Liberty Mean has plenty of these ideas, yet none are given proper reflection by its band members.  All of them are consumed with one thing: THIS idea will make us money!  Yet they somehow forget to learn the lessons from their decisions and ultimately pay the price.  Very Seinfeldian in that regard.

There are too many absurd moments to reflect on all of them, but I think my favorite is when the band meets a couple of future fans that are curious about the band.  They tell them all about their parody act.  “I’ve never heard of them,” says one female fan, when asked about the Black Owls.  “Well, they’re from Ohio,” says Rick in response.  Another absurd moment was when the band finally reached the conclusion that they won’t be able to make the trip to Austin due to limited funds to buy plane tickets.  [Hint: struggling bands don’t FLY—they rent vans!]  The absurdity is endless, and those who like pure silliness will find plenty in this film.

Without intent, Mark Stewart has something profound to say about the DIY movement and Millenials, but I’m sure those messages simply seeped through the movie unintentionally.  As a musician—and colleague to many Millenials—it spoke volumes to me.  Even the casual music—or mockumentary—fan will find this film a treat; it is definitely worth checking out.  There’s a profound morality tale built into the absurdist notion of these clueless characters.           

Of particular note, it was great to see a local filmmaker pay homage to Columbus in so many ways.  As a proud native, I was happy to see so many familiar places—and faces—scattered throughout the film.  I’m sure audiences throughout the country might appreciate the satire even more than its homegrown ones—it’s definitely making some noise outside of I-270.  

If you like music, comedy, satire and goofiness then this is definitely the movie for you.  It’s winning awards at all the film festivals and is planning on premiering at many more in 2018—definitely take in this flick and enjoy the ride.

Congratulations to Mark Stewart on a wonderful movie and a wonderful homage to a great music town: Columbus, Ohio.  And congratulations to local band The Black Owls, whose music is peppered throughout the film.  It’s always a treat to see kudos granted to local artists.  And it’s a rare treat to see filmmakers making their debuts in their sixth decade—pursuing art is pursuing the fountain of youth.  I am reminded of Glen Hansard’s two-word comment after winning the Grammy for Best Song from the indie movie ‘Once.’  He simply said: “Make art.”

Make art, indeed.  Make it.  Make it.  

Pete Vogel is a musician and filmaker who happens to write for Pencilstorm too. Learn more at Petevogel.com .

Mock and Roll: An Interview with Filmmaker Mark Stewart - by Pete Vogel

“Mock and Roll” will have their Columbus Premiere at Gateway Film Center on Sunday, November 26th at 2pm.  Tickets are $10.  You can get them online at gatewayfilmcenter.org.

Mark Stewart is not your typical filmmaker.

He did not attend film school.  He did not travel the world.  He did not starve.  He did not struggle making movies for other people before he embarked on his own project.  

Mark’s journey is a little different than most filmmakers: his career was actually spent in human resources, where he worked for various companies for 34 years before retiring early to pursue his creative ambitions.  

“I retired from Alliance Data after working there for 14 years,” he said.  At 57 he quit his day job to partake in a new journey: marrying his two greatest passions—music and movies—into an original film project.  After researching his options—and talking to dozens of people about the process—he began work on his idea.  At 61 he’s shopping his first film: a mockumentary called “Mock and Roll” which will make its Columbus premiere this coming weekend at Gateway Film Center.

One would think a retired Human Resources professional would consider other pursuits, such as buying a summer cottage, traveling the world or refinancing his house.  But Mark had other plans: to write and produce a movie that would be financed from his own retirement!  

“I’ve always been a fan of music since I was a teenager,” said Stewart, a native of Millersburg, OH.  “I saw my first concert in 1973 at Massillon Stadium.”  It was an eclectic bill: Dr. Hook, New York Dolls and Mott the Hoople.  He was hooked instantly.  Stewart came to OSU in 1975 and followed Ohio bands (The Muffs, The Godz, Michael Stanley Band) and national acts (Montrose, Foghat, Black Oak Arkansas).  In fact, both Michael Stanley and Roger Earl (drummer from Foghat) made cameos in the movie.

“Mock and Roll” is a coming-of-age story about a local band called Liberty Mean, a four-piece unit comprised of hapless millenials who are well intentioned but clueless.  Liberty Mean parodies another local act—The Black Owls—whereby they steal The Black Owls’ music but rewrite the lyrics for their own purposes.  The lead singer, Robin, (played by New Albany native Molly Bhanja) sings the tunes and her backing band Rick (Chris Wolfe), Tom (Pakob Jarernpone) and Bun (Andrew Yackel) accompany her.  The band has a crazy idea: they want to attend South-by-Southwest (SXSW), a music festival that takes place every spring in Austin, TX.  They have no idea what to do once they get there, but that’s beside the point: every up-and-coming band needs to attend SXSW, because that’s what bands do.  They set up a crowd-funding page to raise funds from friends and family, but have no idea what to do once they reach their destination.  They haven’t been booked by SWSW and don’t know anybody in Texas who can assist them.  They only know one thing: We’re a band, and bands go to SXSW.  

“The movie is a marriage between ‘This is Spinal Tap’ and ‘Best in Show,’” Stewart says.  He has no political or social statement to make.  He has no agenda to share, no secret message to uncover about music, millenials and the DIY movement.  He just loves to laugh and he loves music.  

Stewart teamed up with fellow writer/filmmaker Ben Bacharach-White, who’s based out of Washington, DC.  “We basically collaborated on the idea, and out came this concept,” he said.  Bacharach-White is essentially the “other half” of the braintrust: he’s the film’s co-writer, director and editor.  “I’m lucky to be working with such an accomplished artist,” said Stewart.  

With the help of Bacharach-White, Leah Wharton, Tony Deemer and Jason Tostevin, this first-time filmmaker was able to glean experience from his team of polished veterans.  “I’m like a sieve—I just collected information from those who had the experience.  It’s been a lot of fun and a tremendous learning experience.”

Stewart financed the movie by himself.  “I accumulated some stock from my years working in HR, so I used my own money to finance the movie.”  He worked with a variety of talent, using interns, professional actors, extras, cinematographers and producers from across the country.  Folks from Washington DC, Pittsburgh, Grand Rapids, Granville, Columbus, Cincinnati and Akron participated in the project.  

Stewart has always wanted to make a movie about music; he’s been listening to local bands his entire life.  He particularly enjoys The Methmatics, Zoo Trippin’ and newcomers Lily and the Weeds.  But his favorite local band is none other than Columbus icons Watershed.

“My daughter brought their album home years ago and I fell in love with it,” he said.  “I love Joe’s book—I love Colin.  I just love Watershed’s music.”

So far the mockumentary has made some serious noise.  They’ve already been premiered at Orlando Film Festival, Oklahoma’s Eyecatcher International Film Festival (where they won Best Original Score), and Austin’s Revolution Film Festival (where they received six nominations: Best Comedy, Best Director, Best Male Lead, Best Female Lead, Best Editor and Best Movie Poster).  They also won Best Feature at Cincinnati’s Inside the Loop Film Festival earlier this fall.  They plan on hitting other festivals in 2018.

Mark is taking all this in stride.  “Our hope is to shop it around to all the film festivals where we think our movie is a good fit, then hope for distribution down the road.”  He knows it’s a long shot, but everything is a long shot in the arts these days.  He doesn’t seem fazed by the road ahead. “We are submitting to a number of other film festivals and are hopeful that our success thus far continues with additional official selections.”

  Pete Vogel is a professional musician, filmmaker and Pencilstorm contributor. Click here to read his excellent reviews of The Rolling Stones and The Who    

Trailer for the award-winning Mock & Roll named Best Feature at the Inside The Loop Film Festival. Also nominated for 9 other awards at festivals ranging from Austin Revolution, EyeCatcher International, to Orlando including Best Comedy, Actor, Actress, Director, Editing, Feature and Original Score.

Hosea's Burden - by Pete Vogel

I was driving behind our bandleader, Hosea, en route to the after party.  He was in his candy-apple-red Toyota; I was in my taxi-yellow Ford.  We had just played an awesome gig at Ruby Tuesday and were driving to the sax player’s house to celebrate.  It was around 2:30 am and we were still pumped from the show.  The gig was a packed house: we played well and the crowd loved us.  Hosea did an extended bass solo that night and nailed every note.  He was especially jazzed after the show; people were clapping and hollering during his solo and everyone had a magical night.

We were driving south on Cleveland Avenue—our adrenaline still racing from the gig.  He was going a little fast—about 10 miles over the speed limit—and I wasn’t sure if he was showing off or just excited to get to Vinny’s house.  I kept my pace with him, but he was ahead of me by a quarter mile or so. Unfortunately a cop spotted him and pulled him over.  I wasn’t sure what to do—I’d never been to Vinny’s before—so I pulled over, too.  My car was directly behind the cop’s—about twenty feet or so.  

The cop quickly assessed the situation: black man driving fast in a nice sports car.  He didn’t get out of the squad car; instead he flashed a spotlight on Hosea.  My heart began to race.  Then the cop called for backup.  Within a few minutes another cop car came screaming to the scene.  The spotlight was kept on Hosea the entire time; I thought it was an overreaction since he was only going 10 miles over the limit.  The second cop car pulled up; I rolled down my window and got the cop’s attention to let him know that Hosea was my friend, we just finished a gig and were headed to a party.  The cop told me to shut up.  

Both cops exited their vehicles and approached Hosea, their guns drawn.  They pulled open the driver-side door and told him to get out of the car.  I screamed out but he couldn’t hear me—the cops were giving him a verbal lashing.  “Is this your car?!  Why are you driving so fast?!?!  Where are you going?  Where’s your license?  Where’s your registration?!”  I kept shouting: “He did nothing wrong!  We’re going to a party!” but they ignored me.  Had I been more courageous I would’ve left my car, approached the cops and told them what happened.  But I was frozen with fear.

Through the side-view mirror I could see Hosea’s face: he had an expression of calm resignation.  I could tell this wasn’t his first rodeo: he had an almost zen-like quality to him, even though two guns were pointed at his head.  The wave he’d been riding since the show had completely ebbed to frustration and gloom.  An hour before he was a rock star—now he was treated like a thief or a thug.  And all for one reason: a black man was driving fast in a nice sports car.

One of the cops kept his gun fixed on Hosea while the other retrieved his license and returned to his squad car to run his credentials.  My heart was beating so hard I could feel it throbbing in my temples.  The spotlight was firmly on him—two blue flashes of police lightbars creating ominous shadows throughout the deserted street.  Hosea stood there in quiet solemnity as he waited for the cop to determine his fate.  I called out to him: “Hosea!  Are you okay?”

He responded nonchalantly: “Yeah…it’s cool, man.”  

Even though Hosea and I are situated five-feet apart onstage, we actually live in different universes.  I didn’t realize that until now.  His treatment by the cops opened my eyes to the injustice of his heritage.  I thought I knew him well, but after witnessing this I realized how little I knew or understood.  My Italian/German heritage provided me great privileges that I took for granted; his Negro heritage made him the target of constant judgment and fear, probably dating back to adolescence.  His facial expression said it all—it was a look I will never forget.  During the interrogation, as my eyes searched his, I could almost read his thoughts: “This is what it means to be a black man in America.  And now you know.”  It was a secret I now understood.

I will never forget that night, nor will I ever forget the expression on his face.  I look at every minority a little different now, knowing there are many things that white people will never understand about the burdens they bear in silence.  They have my sympathy, my respect and my prayers.  Peace.

Hosea L. Hooks III is the bandleader of State of Mind, a jazz/funk group that plays throughout Columbus.  Pete Vogel is a former member of the band.

Hosea Hooks talks about his concept STATE OF MIND: a band (and production company) that has been a part of the Columbus, Ohio music scene for over 25 years. This video highlights some recent performances at Columbus Commons and Zanzibar Bar in Olde Town East.

Censorship at Comfest: Noble or Treasonous? - by Pete Vogel

On Saturday, June 24th, a band by the name of Chickenhawk Birdgetters took the stage at the I Wish You Jazz stage at ComFest. They bill themselves as a “Jazz Offensive” and planned a “ComFest Offensive” for their 7pm performance.  Chickenhawk Birdgetters have a vision for creating jazz music that “is dangerous once more.”  They want to remove the shirt-and-tie formality of the genre and “give it a black eye.”  They planned on playing “Fuck tha Police” by N.W.A. (Niggaz Wit Attitudes) and improvise their own version of the tune.  Somehow word got to ComFest officials - and Columbus police - that the band was going to perform the song and they stepped in: They politely asked the band to refrain from playing it because they were fearful it would “incite a riot.”  Here are some of the lyrics to “Fuck tha Police:”

         Fuck that shit cause I ain’t the one / For a punk motherfucker with a badge and a gun / Ice Cube will swarm on any motherfucker in a blue uniform / A young nigga on the warpath / And when I finish it’s gonna be a bloodbath / Of cops dying in LA.

You get the gist: I listened to all 5:45 of it and it had over 90 curse words and threatened violence on cops four different times.  To perform a jazz improv rendition doesn’t mean the band was going to perform the song verbatim, but the message was pretty clear: this was a provocative piece that would definitely raise eyebrows.

As a musician, I’d normally side with the artist and claim he/she has the right to perform whatever song they desire.  But after learning the band’s intentions - and hearing the song in question - I actually sided with the police and ComFest officials on this one.  This song, quite frankly, is in poor taste and isn’t a good fit for an open-air, free festival where ages range between 7 and 70.  It’s also an affront to law enforcement everywhere: I am friends with several cops and they’d take offense to hearing this song played at a community festival.  I had no problem with ComFest officials - and Columbus police - pulling the plug on this tune.  

Granted, there’s so much more to the story and I wasn’t present at the show: I’ve heard all of this second-hand.  The narrative has changed a lot the past three days as well: rumors circulated that the band was actually threatened by cops - and Comfest officials - and I’m not always sure who, or what, to believe.  But I think the deeper question is this: Is censoring this type of music a noble act or treason?

Censorship used to carry an air of rarified dignity with it.  I often think of Rushdie’s exile from Iran after writing The Satanic Verses or Kurt Vonnegut raising ire after penning Slaughterhouse Five.  But in today’s climate, I’m not sure if people truly feel the sting of censorship anymore.  We all have the freedom to voice our thoughts, opinions and art any way we want, any time we want, with little fear of reprisal.  Sadly, we suffer from the opposite problem: we clearly lack the ability to censor ourselves, even when we should.  In this 24/7, wild-west of social media, it’s not uncommon to take 29 pictures of our Cobb Salad when only one will do.  [Or post too many cat videos.]  Self-censoring is a welcome blessing in this regard.  

Chickenhawk Birdgetters deciding to cover a hateful song about cop violence is simply not appropriate at an all-ages festival.  And they shouldn’t have cried foul when the plug was pulled on them.  Granted, there is a time and place for this type of music, and I’m not condemning the artists for creating it.  But ComFest isn’t it.  I wouldn’t walk into a church and play Nine Inch Nails: it’s in poor taste.  I wouldn’t attend a children’s birthday party and play “Lick it Up”: it’s inappropriate.  Artists have a responsibility to their audience and not the other way around.  I think we’ve lost sight of that.

ComFest officials politely asked the band to censor themselves and not play a tune that could incite violence.  They refused.  Instead, they told ComFest officials that they wanted ComFest to admit “they were censoring a band.”  The band wanted to pin themselves as victims: percussionist Joey Gurwin even put duct tape over his mouth to prove the point.  

Of course, this warrants more questions than answers.  To my knowledge, ComFest has never censored a band in the 40-plus-year history of the event.  No band has ever had to provide setlists or even discuss their sets with officials.  So how did the police and ComFest folks even learn of this?  

After giving it some thought, I came upon a possible conclusion: the “leak” was intentional.  Someone in their camp got word out about their N.W.A. selection and ComFest officials - and police - responded accordingly.  But why would a local band cause such a commotion in the first place?  One word: Publicity.  [Call it “The Trump Effect”—it obviously works.]  The band wanted to earn free publicity - and become heroes in the process - by becoming the first band to ever be censored by ComFest.  It worked: an article was written about them in Columbus Alive, one of the organizers resigned and they have blown up the Internet the past four days.  

It was a publicity stunt.

In this new era of publicity-at-all-costs - led by our Executive-in-Tweet - it’s no wonder that people are divided over this issue.  But there is nothing treasonous about pulling the plug on such a hateful song as “Fuck tha Police.”  To stand in front of a microphone and shout “motherfucker” at a bunch of ten-year-olds isn’t noble, it’s stupid.  In my mind the ComFest Committee - and Columbus Police - got it right: they pulled the plug on an act that wasn’t willing to censor themselves.  When artists don’t have the temerity to govern themselves for the well-being of the community, then others must step in and do it for them.  Well done.

Pete Vogel is a drummer, musician, teacher, movie director and many other things. Click here to visit his website.