Art Museum Soundtrack

By Jack Stephen

A vignette: I am at a roller-skating rink—the infamous Roll-O-Arena on Sunset Street in Longmont, Coloradro, circa 1984. Most Saturday mornings, this was the spot. I usually went with a buddy, and we haplessly scouted for the ladies. At one point, I would be in the snack area, eating a sleeve of popcorn with extra butter and sipping on a small Cherry Coke Icee. I hear the opening refrain of the song. I was pumped and hastily threw everything in the trash and hit the rink. I had to get out there and skate to this song! I was flying around the rink weaving through everyone doing a sort of dance skate move. This was when I first discovered what the phrase—“They’re playing your song”—meant. It was incredible. What song was it? “Funky Town” by Lipps Inc. 

Recently, I headed to the Denver Art Museum to check out the Camille Pissarro exhibit. What did I listen to? When I parked the car at the museum, it was “Anticipation” by the Bar-Kays. There is something about classic R&B—the funky, deep bass lines, the smooth crooning, and plenty of serious lyrics about getting busy in the bedroom. Nothing wrong with any of that.

The museum was freaking packed. Every ten minutes, a group of 20 to 30 people were let in.  For what is one of life’s easy pleasures, digging into a famous artist’s work and career, it was an exceptional exhibit. There were probably 80 to 100 pieces. Beginning with his start in what was the Dutch West Indies to finally an apartment in Paris, he was always a painter and a prodigious one. As he evolved into who became the father of Impressionism, I was especially struck as to how for a great part of his life he had problems with chronic eye infections. It sort of adds up as maybe he was also near-sighted. Also, not sure if they had optometrists back then? Check out an Impressionist painting, while it’s not difficult to argue the paintings are genius, it seems like these guys had some vision problems and maybe a lot of art patrons of the time did too. Get these artists some glasses! Pissarro later had eye surgery, sometime around 1890. Wonder what that surgery center looked like! Pissarro was clearly a once of a generation talent, who endlessly struggled with the everyday aspects of life, making sure the rent was paid and food was on the table. Nonetheless, he poured everything into his paintings. A great many of them depicted harbor, city, industrial, or farming scenes. He perfectly captures smoke wisping from a factory in front of an overcast fall sky at sunset and other things I never thought about. 

It’s especially insane how much failure he had to deal with: periods where he just couldn’t sell anything. He subsided in poverty for most of his life. He never wavered though, he woke up and painted every day. And even after losing thousands of paintings after his home was destroyed in the Franco-Prussian War, he was quoted as saying “sadness is eased by getting back to work.”

Bombing vignette I: I am driving with another comic down to Denver to do the New Talent Night on Tuesday at the world-famous Comedy Works. There is a pretty big mingle session before the show as any comic can put their name on the list and go up on standby. There’s about 30 comics hanging out. Around 7:20 PM, the New Talent Coordinator comes out and posts the set list. There’s 21 comics on the bill tonight, including 7 B sets, 6 C sets, and the rest are the A’s or the Pros. As I head back to the greenroom, I notice the crowd. It is pretty sparse, possibly due to the impending snowstorm. I’m going up at #14 as a B set, pretty deep in the lineup. I sit in the back and watch the others. The crowd is not where they should be for a Comedy Works show. Typically, they’re red hot, but this group felt lukewarm. Some comics struggled, and some did well. I was going to stick with my tight four-minute set. I hit the stage with a smile and a wave, grabbed the mic and settled in. I started slow, in my usual cadence, but I was a bit thrown, “That joke should get a bigger laugh,” I thought. Nevertheless, I tried to have a good time, or at least act like it. My facial expressions were not hitting like they should. My act outs felt more like gestures. I fell flat during my “legal weed” bit and decided to pivot and switch the closer. I saw the light, 30 seconds left. Don’t rush, I thought. I stayed for the set notes, the coordinator said I was getting more confident and looser. I need to figure out how to flirt with the crowd a bit, draw them in and get them on my side. I wrote this down. As my buddy and I drove out, we agreed that’s how it goes in the comedy game sometimes—even at one of the best comedy clubs in the world.  

What song was playing as people were being seated? “Sedona” by Houndsmouth.

This is one of those songs I would never play but hearing it doesn’t make me turn the dial. I am a pretty big fan of Sedona, the city that is. We snaked down from Flagstaff one time on a road trip to Los Angeles. My giant poodle, Mimi, had her head out the window panting hysterically the whole way down. I get that. It’s a stunning landscape. I went to a couple of the famous vortexes and tried to meditate. I don’t know if I did it right, but it sure felt cool. An energy vortex; think about it: a place on Earth where energy swirls, connecting to some sort of greater energy in the universe. I’m not describing it well, so head to Sedona and check one out. You’ll see what I mean. 

What I would have liked to hear? “Lola” by the Kinks. Why don’t the Kinks get more airplay?  This is something I’ve always found mystifying. Do a deep dive into their catalog, and you will be astounded. This song feels especially timely. It’s also time for a comeback perhaps? I guess the Kinks may have been overshadowed a bit by a couple of other giant English bands around the same time, namely, The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. While critics often noted the Kinks probably had better written songs, the compliment feels almost like a participation ribbon as far as the British Invasion went. The Kinks did get quite a bit of respect from other bands as can be seen in the vast number of Kinks’ cover songs by bands across the spectrum. I would say the “Where Have All the Good Times Gone” by Van Halen would be my top. But it’s not really the “vibe” they’re looking for while people are grabbing seats and drinks at a comedy club.

Bombing vignette II: I am walking down the stairs down to the Pizza Dungeon, as it is referred. It’s a Wednesday, and it’s the open mic at the Speakcheesy in Ft. Collins. On this night, it is a three-person audience, with about 20 or so comics milling around. I shoot the breeze with the gang, seeing what’s what. I got the call, I was going to be on deck, as they say. I had a new joke and a new opener I wanted to test out. I completely choked the opener. My five-minute set was actually going “not bad” considering the milieu and the new year’s hangover energy in the room. I got to the new joke, and I thought the premise up was solid, “white people will do anything to seem like they have a bit of street cred.” The only Black guy in the room yelled, “For sure.” I thought that was a good sign. The set-up was, “I like Law and Order SVU mostly because of Ice-T.” No response. “I’d like to see Ice-T in charge of the Epstein files.” Dead silence. I continued and tried to finish strong and went into my “hackey sack nut sack” bit. Finished okay. I got off the stage and wrote some notes. I thought to myself, “It’s 2026 and what the fuck am I doing.”

What I would have liked to hear when the mic wrapped up? “Different Drum” by Linda Ronstadt and the Stone Poneys. They had three acoustic guitars and a harpsichord, a heck of an idea for some instrumentation. Then there’s Linda Ronstadt on lead vocal. Pretty sweet lyrics, really hits home about the relationship I’m having with audiences these days. Great song. 

What song was good for the way home after bombing? “Baker Street” by Gerry Rafferty. This is quite the track, at least as far as 1970s airplay is concerned. Gerry was the main guy in the band Steelers Wheel. Their hit track “Stuck in the Middle” was featured in the film Reservoir Dogs where Mr. Blonde did a dance and cut off the cop’s ear (RIP Michael Madsen.) “Baker Street” is one of those random jams that somehow sneaks in on the FM classic soft rock playlists, and why not? I mean the saxophone coming in to boost the chorus always works as far as I’m concerned. He also had the great “Right Down the Line” song (Happy Valentine’s Day to the Mrs.!) with the exceptional enunciation of “WOH-MANN.” Both these tracks were on City to City, which hit number one in 1978. He ended up being another of those cool musicians who got taken out by the bottle.

I think my favorite painting from the show was the Parisian Boulevard with Snow. A really striking picture. Pissarro captures so much in what was just a brief moment in time. Towards the end of his life, he finally acquired an apartment in Paris and couldn’t be happier. He painted this piece from the window in his place, as he did throughout his career painting his neighborhoods.  It is pretty astounding the impact he had as the leader in the Impressionist movement. Cezeanne, Monet, Munch, Surat, Gaugin, Van Gough, maybe some Jackson Pollack, and many more owe their careers to his inspiration. He died in 1903. There were a number of significant paintings he did in the last year of his life; he just never stopped. If he could only see this scene today, hundreds and hundreds of people fawning over his work in downtown Denver, over 120 years after he passed.

What would be a good theme song for the exhibit? “Tokyo Rain” by Loaded Honey. This track is on their new album Love Made Trees. This group is a collaboration between a London musician and the singer from the band Jungle. Jungle is super cool—check out their song “Back on ’74.” “Tokyo Rain” is a song I’m a bit obsessed with right now; I like to think Pissarro would enjoy it as well. 

Crushing vignette: I was freaking. Tonight was my big 15-minute feature spot. I was super prepared and had memorized everything, but I was still concerned whether I would have enough jokes and enough time. I had my notebook and script at hand. But I didn’t want to look at it.  There is something about it that must be natural and not too rehearsed. I’m back in my hometown, Longmont, or Long Dong, as it is affectionally known. I thought I was going to be going up earlier, but when I asked the producer to see the lineup, I realized I was going to be featuring for the headliner. I’m hit with a little nervous jolt, but what does it matter it’s not going to change anything about my performance anyway? The room is tense as the comic before me gets a solid “fuck off” heckle from the back of the room after a fairly solid abortion joke. I am going to have to reset the room a bit. The host brings me up. I went up with no notes, had to be pro. I was relaxed in the moment without trying, I didn’t hold back either. I was myself. Crowd work nailed, pauses built the tension and the callbacks hit. I veered off my script, but it didn’t matter, I was in the zone and the audience was on my side. I’m the funniest guy in the world! It was incredible!

What was my walk-up song? “Cross the Tracks” by The JB’s. I caught Maceo Parker, circa 1996, at Antoines in Austin, right after my good friend moved down there. It was the old Antoines, not the new one on 5th Street or wherever it moved. I guess Clifford Antoine went to prison after being busted with a pile of weed back in the day, which helped lead to his notoriety.  Also, he booked some incredible acts, and in Austin, Texas, that’s saying something. Illegal weed in Texas has always been an excuse to keep someone down; whether it was their skin color or the music they played or both. (Check out the tale of Roky Erickson and the 13th floor Elevators.) Anyway, Maceo was a funk master just nailing all kinds of songs and what a variety.  He played on a De La Soul song—“I Be Blowing.” I really liked “Cross the Tracks” in the awesome film Snatch. The track drops as Sol and his crew arrive to attempt to rob a bookie—a hilarious scene. This song also set up my entrance to what I will now refer to as my first crushing. As I took the mic, they were playing my song.