Knipple 10-Year Anniversary Show
The Colony
July 3, 2026
"You should never be louder than the band" —sign at The Colony
Earlier this month, the band known as Knipple (pronounced KUH-nipple) came together with friends and family to celebrate their 10th year of performing. Jordan Hehl and Nicholas Foster, who go by Jordank and Knicholas in their Knipple on-stage universe, invited many other Tulsa musicians to The Colony for a jam-packed night with incredible displays of craft and comedy. The duo is well known in Tulsa for their eclectic, genre-blending, banter-filled shows. I hadn’t seen them play in years, but I had a feeling this wasn’t a (k)night to miss.
As I took a Lyft ride to The Colony for the show, the driver looked at the destination. “Ah, The Colony!” he said. “They recently redecorated the place, I believe.” A moment of fear struck me as I imagined hanging Edison bulbs and steel chairs.
Thankfully, the place’s tavern vibe hadn’t changed all that much, but a bee motif had replaced the Union Jack standards. It was as cozy and inviting as I had remembered it, with star-spangled Fourth of July decor shimmering in the dim lights. It seems we’ve told the redcoats to buzz off once again. As I walked up to the bar, I noticed a number of small dogs in attendance, each one somehow tinier and more nervous than the last. As their owners headed for the patio, the big dogs themselves started to soundcheck.
Jordank and Knicholas took to the tiny stage as cheers of “10 more years” went up in the packed venue. Jordank began by noting that 10 years ago, they played this very same venue in one of their first shows. "Look how far we've stayed … actually I think I was a foot to the right," he said with a smile.
This energy held for most of the night, with songs that ranged from upbeat, crowd-involved numbers to high-flying and technical tunes for the true Knipple heads. Other performers such as Nate Bellatti, Poppa Foster, Bishop Marsh, Stephen Shultz, Olivia McGraw, Taylor Graham, David Broome, and Mark Southerland rotated in and out throughout the night.
With their red and blue jumpsuits and an array of instruments, Knipple and friends created an eclectic soundscape that included jazz, punk, funk, country, exotica, ambient, and blues. Things even got a little Lynchian towards the end of the night, as they played some of their more atmospheric and pastoral collaborations. Their rendition of “Come All You Coal Miners,” a 1937 labor union song by Sarah Ogan Gunning, featuring violinist McGraw, was a left turn from the rest of the night. The sheer haunting beauty of the music and the still-topical lyrics transfixed the audience.
Their next song, “The Four Whoo Banger,” broke the spell. If you’re not familiar, imagine what a song called “The Four Whoo Banger” might sound like. Yep, add a little more kazoo and you got it. Embarrassingly, my kazoo skills were a little out of date, but thankfully a kazoo guru was sitting near me to guide my path. It's all in the hum.
Whether it was the kazoos, a High-Five Mosh Pit segment where audience members tried to get as many high-fives as they could during the duration of the song, or just general banter and participation, the crowd felt like the third member of the band. Many of Knipple’s songs invite the audience to be an active element, and this crowd was all about it, even the ones who didn’t come for the band.
I was joined at my table by a group that had come to play pool, but The Colony’s table had been turned into a makeshift merch station. This caused some frustration for two men in the group, jonesing for a game. However, their girlfriends were sat (that’s how the girlies put it, right?) and enjoying the antics of the band, begging to stay for the rest of the show. They struck a deal: one of the guys left to go “warm up the table” at a different bar while the rest of his crew stayed for the remainder of the set, kazoos at the ready.
Knipple promised that “the K will not be silent” and they delivered. They celebrated not just 10 years of music-making and performances, but also all the connections, friendships, and opportunities that have come with it. Jordank and Knicholas remarked what a great year it had been for them, having played both Cain’s Ballroom and Cry Baby Hill.
My only disappointment? This time, unlike at a previous Knipple show I’d seen, no one was playing Twister in front of the stage, something an audience member brought up to the band. Knicholas nodded his head in shameful agreement. “Sorry, we are old now,” he said. Well, as long as their 20-year reunion still has kazoos, I'll be there.
