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Tulsa World
November 8, 2002
by Thomas Conner
New Wave Redux
Nude Furniture influences range from Zappa to Partridge
Family for new CD
Neil Dirickson's in the bar talking about his recent
move. He had to haul his massive record collection
again, so he winnowed it a bit.
"I kept the Beatles and Big Star and the Zappa,"
he says. "I gave a lot to Goodwill, like some
classical things. A Burl Ives record made it there,
too."
Drummer Karen Momme asks him about the Partridge
Family LP.
"I kept that," he says. "Of course."
Dirickson is the quintessential Gen-X rocker: intelligent,
fussy, geeky as all get-out. He looks like the lost
Blues Brother who tried emulating Elvis Costello
instead. His voice still catches when he recalls
seeing Marshall Crenshaw open for the Stray Cats
in 1983 at the Brady Theater. A turning point in
his life was when a substitute high school teacher
loaned him an armful of Frank Zappa platters.
His band, Nude Furniture - which, until recent concerts,
has been a one-man band throughout his career -
is the summation of his record collection.
And it's a record collection.
"Neil shows his influences without copying
them," Momme says, living up to the pronunciation
of her last name by defending, praising and fluttering
over Dirickson.
Momme used to drum for the mid-'90s New Wavy rock
band the Zigs. She's got her own influences, too.
She moved to Tulsa from New York to run the Dwight
Twilley fan club, and she recently discovered her
cymbal-shy soul sister, Velvet Underground drummer
Moe Tucker.
The others in the new Nude Furniture include another
local rockette, Sarah Wagner, and bassist Carl Jordan.
Occasional sidemen, both of whom are slated to join
the band at this weekend's CD release party, include
local singer-songwriter Jeff Graham and former Nashville
Rebels drummer Bill
Padgett.
The CD being celebrated this weekend is called "Antidepressants,"
and it is truly the turning point for this closet
New Waver.
Dirickson grew up in Collinsville listening to bands
like Eugenius, Dinosaur Jr. and the Butthole Surfers.
This didn't exactly make him the big man on campus.
He and pal Joel Mitchell, though, formed a band
called the Wisenheimers in 1988, and Dirickson set
to writing and recording his songs. He began handing
out cassette "albums," sometimes up to
three in one year.
In '98, at the encouragement of Phil Tanner from
Royal Crush (the first edition), Dirickson upped
his efforts at releasing his material and unleased
"The Devil May Care" CD.
The new moniker came from a billboard advertising
a shop for unfinished furniture that Dirickson spied
on the way to Dallas to see KISS in '96.
"I thought it was hilarious. I laughed about
it for miles," he says. "It was going
to be an album title, but I made it the name of
the group."
Nude Furniture didn't become a group until this
year. "Antidepressants" features Dirickson
playing every instrument, but new live shows now
feature the power-packed line-up, which Dirickson
calls "the most cohesive and competent band
I could share a stage with."
Dirickson already has 30 new songs ready to go for
another album. He's a songwriting machine.
"If I'm not writing or playing, I feel useless,"
he says, dead serious.
"I don't like to linger over songs, either.
If it takes more than a day, I'll ditch it. The
best ones just come right out."
"And fortunately, they're still coming." |
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