In search of the Tulsa Sound

I am an (almost) lifelong Bob Dylan fan. As a student DJ at the UP campus radio station Tuks FM (in my day, simply Radio Tuks), my early Friday evening show was called the SNACK Show. Named after a San Fran benefit concert organised by the legendary promoter Bill Graham, I loved that the acronym stood for Students Need Athletics, Culture and Kicks. Right up my alley, for sure.

Bob Dylan, Neil Young and The Band, nogal. Plus Santana, The Doobie Brothers, The Grateful Dead, and Jefferson Starship.

A prominent feature of my show was my Daily Dylan slot (Daaglikse Dylan), because, you know, Dylan! Right, now that that’s established in this little missive about my upcoming travelling adventure, when I decided to go on this jolly for my nephew Joe and his bride-to-be EP’s matrimonial festivities in Greenville, South Carolina, I had to make sure that I also went on a (short) pilgrimage to the Bob Dylan Center in the Arts District of, you guessed it, Tulsa Oklahoma. 

Why Tulsa, of all places, I hear you ask. Why not New York, or Duluth, Minnesota for the Dylan archives? Well, as it turns out, Tulsa is home to the American Song Archives, which oversees both the Woody Guthrie Center and the Bob Dylan Center. Bob sold his massive archive to the George Kaiser Family Foundation and the University of Tulsa, so there was that. But, and this is important, Tulsa is also home to the famous Tulsa Sound and this is where J.J. Cale and Eric Clapton make an appearance in the story.

My school friend George’s brother Hein, was a few years older than us in high school and we followed where he and his laid-back buddies showed us the way, especially when it came to what music to listen to. I have forgotten their names, but not what they listened to. One of the artists that I got to know and that would shape much of my musical preference was the King of the Tula Sound, one J.J Cale. And I was not the only one to become a devout fan of the guy who penned Call Me The Breeze, long before the Lynyrd Skynyrd version made it famous. Eric Clapton revered Cale and became not only a student of the Tulsa Sound, but one of its most competent exponents.

I wasn’t an Eric Clapton fan at school as such. Sort of knew about him but never got into his vibe. That was, until I heard Just One Night. On this remarkable live concert record, to my ear Clapton matured. Got into the Tulsa Sound proper and created that easy-to-listen-to-but-hard-to-do sound of a restrained, laid-back-but-urgent-at-the-same-time groove evident in Lay Down Sally, After Midnight, Blues Power, Cocaine, Further on Up the Road and, of course, the best rendition of Tulsa Time, bar none.

This double album was recoded at the famous Budokan Theatre in Tokyo, incidentally also where one of my all time favourite albums came to be too, Bob Dylan’s At Budokan.

So now, ahead of my trip, I’m dreaming about experiencing just a glimpse of, hopefully, a magical mystery tour, all the while searching for the Tulsa Sound, on Tulsa Time. Let’s see dear reader, what I find. I’m sure to let you know.

Tulsa Time

I left Oklahoma driving in a Pontiac

Just about to lose my mind   

I was going to Arizona maybe on to California

Where the people all live so fine

My baby said I was crazy my momma called me lazy

I was going to show ‘em all this time

Cause you know I ain’t no fooling

I don’t need no more schooling

I was born to just walk the line

Living on Tulsa time, living on Tulsa time   

Well you know I’ve been through it

When I set my watch back to it

Living on Tulsa time

Well there I was in Hollywood wishing

I was doing good talking on the telephone line   

But they don’t need me in the movies

And nobody sings my songs, guess I’m just a wasting time

Well then I got to thinking man

I’m really sinking and I really had a flash this time

I had no business leaving and nobody would be grieving

If I went back to Tulsa time

Living on Tulsa time, living on Tulsa time   

Gonna set my watch back to it

Cause you know I’ve been through it

Living on Tulsa time

Danny Flowers, 1978