A Tribe Called Fresh
Soundpony
January 17, 2025
When I think about a birthday party in my 40s, I imagine some swanky party where I’m overdressed in a tuxedo, sitting at a table of friends and family, eating lamb chops while a party DJ plays old hits from my club days and new hits I’ve probably never heard before. Sounds pretty regular. Boring, really. But that idea went out the window after I attended “A Tribe Called Fresh”—otherwise known as DJ Somar's 47th birthday celebration—at Soundpony Bar.
This night was all about the DJ, or as DJ Somar put it, “having fun selfishly.” The setup was two decks and two DJs: while one played his music, another stood next to him warming up like a relief pitcher in a bullpen, listening to the first one through headphones. These were some of the best DJs in Tulsa, including Doc Freeman, DJ Al Compton, and DJ Kut Lee, just to name a few of the 11 who came together to celebrate the craft and one of their own at a venue that’s pivotal to the culture.
When you’re a Tulsa artist, Soundpony is where you cut your teeth. It’s a place where whatever can go wrong will go wrong, from mics not working, to the speaker having a muffled sound that you just can’t pinpoint, to flat-out no sound coming out at all. Soundpony is where you learn how to troubleshoot on the fly, without the audience knowing anything is up. When the bass on the speaker finally kicked in halfway through “A Tribe Called Fresh,” DJ Ed playfully yelled out, “I need to play my set again!”
A Tribe Called Fresh, out to celebrate DJ Somar (L) | photos by GOLDIELXCS FILM
These weren’t just any DJs. These were hip-hop DJs, each with a unique style. Each chose tracks that accented their love for the art, which also created a friendly competition: one DJ would put on a record while the other would sit back with an evil grin, plotting his next move. The group exploded whenever a DJ put on a classic record that only hip-hop purists would know. No Flo Rida here: this was about artists like Nas, Biggie, KRS-One, and Mobb Deep. That core boom bap hip-hop sound was on full display and the DJs reacted by rapping each bar or bobbing their heads on the breakdown part of a record.
Their own skills were in the spotlight, too: the scratching, the synchronized push of buttons and sliders, all in the hopes of creating that perfect moment. These are DJs who have mastered the transition from one song to the next while keeping the vibe going, testifying to hours spent practicing their craft and curating and downloading songs.
As I listened to KRS-One through the speakers, I remembered verse three of his song “The DJ,” where he lists the Ten DJ Commandments that every real DJ must follow. This led me to ask DJ Somar—who never seems to stop learning—for his take on the future of hip-hop. “I can’t tell you where I see it going,” he said, “but I can tell you where I hope I see it going. I hope I see it investing time in the music and bringing skills into it.”
Every birthday party needs a DJ. But what happens when the birthday party is for the DJ? For DJ Somar, the only thing missing from “A Tribe Called Fresh” was probably a cake, but to do the thing you love, with the people you care about—there’s nothing sweeter than that. As this event showed, future hip-hop DJs in Tulsa have some large shoes to fill; being a DJ goes way beyond just pressing play. But the invitation is open to learn the Ten DJ Commandments and to carry the torch into the next generation of Tulsa music.
Next for DJ Somar: Dilla Day at LoFi, February 8.
