Making Up Music 6: Mike Kohn
by Your Diva, Robin Pastorio-Newman

ALTROK: Mike Kohn, guitar hero and founding reveler with Camp Gumby: You have your own radio station one weekend a year. What exactly is Radio Free Gumby, and why aren't the regular airwaves good for you, too?

MK: Radio Free Gumby is our illegitimate radio station, which on it's best days is legally transmitted over the internet via www.live365.com. From there, it has nowhere to go but downhill. The 'regular' airwaves just are not suited to Radio Free Gumby for a variety of reasons...legal, moral, philosophical, pharmaceutical...

ALTROK: How do you lug a radio station out into the Wisconsin woods? What's your favorite bug repellant?

MK: The antenna is key. We try to be discreet about it by placing a large flashing strobe light at the top of it, so as not to be detected. The rest of the station is as portable as a laptop computer and a small black box. Nuthin' to it. I personally like bugs, and try not to repel them. Not to mention that it's difficult to find a bug large enough to repel down the side of.

ALTROK: Say, Mikey, your band Out of Round's albums (1984 - "Stairwell to Hell" cassette, 1988 - "Vowel Movement" cassette, 1990 - "Wurstmusik" cassette, 1992 - "Midnight Bowlers for Jesus" EP, 1999 - "Fermented Malt Philosophy" Best-Of CD) have their barkingly funny moments, but sound like you had a really bad day for fifteen years. Punk, polkas and Peter, Paul and Mary? Can no one stay angry in a sombrero?

MK: I had a really bad day from about 1974 to about 1992. In retrospect, some of it was self-inflicted, some of it was environment and circumstance, and some of it was just plain bad luck and the 'dark cloud' syndrome. I used humor and sarcasm to blame just about everything on just about everyone through song. But one morning I woke up and found that I was all growed up...which simultaneously overjoyed and frightened the shit out of me. Occasionally, I still get inspired to write a song, but always at the worst possible moment and when there isn't a pen and paper around for miles.

A sombrero is an interesting piece of headgear. It can provide shade, a handy place to store things, and if filled with water, you can pretend the middle part is a castle, surrounded by a moat. There was a bar in Milwaukee for a while that hired a midget to wear a sombrero, which had the center part cut out and a salsa dish placed in the opening, and the brim was filled with chips. While the midget wandered thru the crowd, people ate out of his hat.

I don't know if a sombrero is the key to even temperament, but it can't hurt. Neither can a tiara. Well, a tiara can hurt if it's too small and pinches your head, but otherwise it can't hurt. Punk. Polkas. Peter, Paul & Pmary. They all start with "P" (The "P" is silent in Pmary.) There's a pattern pforming.

ALTROK: Altrok's crack team of research nymphs determined you produced Out Of Round's albums right from the start. I spit my drink across the room the first time I heard "Duck Face Broad" (from "Fermented Malt Philosophy"). Were you intimidated by the hometown presence of the Violent Femmes? Can you next-day cheese curds and lutefisk?

I wasn't so much intimidated by the Femmes as I was inspired. They, and before them, a band called Couch Flambeau, gave me the courage to go forth and do what I wanted to do, on my own. I figured that if they could do it, so could I. You have to remember that at this time, mainstream music was turning out some of the biggest schlock in its schlocky history, so I felt like a real misfit - not writing arena rock anthems about mythical mysteries of magical kingdoms, or futuristic ballads about computers and robotics, to be sung by little scrawny guys that sound like their jewels were pinched off. Couch and the Femmes metaphorically slapped me across the face and said, "HEY! wake the fock up, be yourself, write your songs and DO IT".

Interesting that you mention "Duck Face Broad". That was written in 1.5 seconds and recorded in all of 45 seconds in a drunken stupor. It's a crowd favorite. It's ironic that some songs that I toiled over meticulously have just a passing following, and others that I tossed off without a second thought end up being the faves.

I believe it also marks the first and last time that a duck call was used in a rock recording. I fully expected to receive a Grammy for "Best Rock Recording Utilizing A Duck Call", but I guess I rented that tuxedo for naught.

I can next-day curds, lutefisk I'm not so sure about. You can make your own, you just need about 3 days, a tub of lye and some fish.

ALTROK: I'll get right on that. Have you always been a musician? How'd you pick up the gee-tar? Is that a belt sander in your pocket or are you happy to see us?

MK: I have never been a musician. The term 'musician' would imply that a.) I do this as a means of self-support and b.) that I have some sort of formal training. I can't name you more than 2 chords, (E and A), and I'm not sure which is which on the neck, but dag-nabbit, I can play the dad-gum thing.

I like to pick up the gee-tar by the neck, unless there's a strap on it. Then I'll pick it up by the strap. Never pick it up by the whammy bar, or you'll be whammied and lose all your money and Peter Tomarkin will make a disparaging remark.

Actually, I bought an old Castilla strat copy when I was 16 for $75 from my HERO...the rhythm player in my uncle's bar band.

If there's a belt sander in my pocket, it had better be a cordless one. I envision a world free of cords someday. That's cords, not chords.

ALTROK: You're always way out in front of tech trends. What's next, Pussycat, woah woah woah woah woah?

MK: John Cougar Mellencamp once said of the Midwest something to the effect that he wasn't sure if people here were 5 years ahead of their time or 25 years behind their time, and I think that's a pretty valid observation. That being said, I do have an idea for the Electric Tuba...

ALTROK: Regular or menthol?

MK: Ethyl.

ALTROK: Say something funny, Mikey.

MK: Something funny, Mikey. No, that was too predictable. Ok, try this. A guy walks into a pet store and wants an unusual pet. So the man sells him a caterpillar. The guy takes his caterpillar home, changes clothes, then decides to try to bond with his caterpillar by taking him out for a drink. "Would you like to go down to Chet's for a beer with me?" he asks the caterpillar. No reply. He repeats, louder, "Would you like to go down to Chet's for a beer with me, caterpillar?" Nothing. He yells into the box, "HEY, YOU WANT TO GO TO CHET'S FOR A BEER WITH ME?" The annoyed caterpillar replies, "I heard you the first time! I'm putting my shoes on!"

©2001 Robin Pastorio-Newman