Latch Fest 2024
Whittier Bar
Tulsa
Aug. 9 & 10, 2024
Sitting side by side at Whittier Bar on a slow afternoon, Latch Fest organizers Laura Voth and Bradley Metcalf were musing on what it is about a concert weekend dedicated to a bar cat that just … works. “Bradley and I are polar opposites, but our hearts are in the same place,” Voth told me. “We’re both made of fur and claws.”
Less than a week before, the place was anything but slow. Multitudes of patrons for Latch Fest 2024 showed up adorned with cat ears and feline print clothes and spent two days shopping from various vendors, adopting cats in need, noshing on mozzarella sticks, and moshing to metal and industrial bands.
A jar of cat testicles also made an appearance, formerly belonging to the reason for the season: Latch.
Latch is a legend among bar cats, as the above photo shows. It’s hard to remember a time at Whittier before Latch manifested himself as the patron saint of feline chill. It’s been an understood rule that you could ask a stranger to move a seat down to accommodate your friend group at the bar. But under no circumstances would you ever disturb Latch on his stool of the day.
I asked Whittier owner Nick Flores for his first Latch memory. “Oh man,” he said. “Honestly, Latch just appeared like a spectral being.” And Latch Fest, now in its second year, is the annual party for this spectral being.
Metcalf, a Whittier regular and local musician, said it started because he “just wanted to throw a party for a bar cat.” Voth — another regular and an art educator and activist for survivors of sexual abuse and domestic violence — caught wind of her friend’s fun idea and offered to connect him with T‑Town TNR (Trap, Neuter, Return). Proceeds from both Latch Fests went to that group, with this year’s earnings projected to double last year’s net.
Those proceeds are generated from entrance fees, vendor booth fees, and (in the first year’s case) an auctioning of Latch’s nards. One of the vendors, Garret Schmigle, helped generate revenue in multiple ways. Selling jars of fermented goods as the “Pickle Wizard” (Schmigle is a local figure in heavy metal and tabletop gaming circles), he also donned a hazmat suit for the fest promo video and filled designer drug bags with designer catnip.
“Folks got a real kick out of seeing catnip packaged like that,” Schmigle said. “I’m sure their cats appreciated the nip itself more, though.”
And on the subject of catnip, Tulsa’s DJ Katnip was one of many performers that drew a crowd willing to pay that entrance fee.
Metcalf’s musical act, Strangers In Mirrors, is a sort of lighthouse and standard bearer for Tulsa’s goth/industrial/darkwave scene, and the artists he booked for this year reflect his taste.
Fog machines obscured the stage and dance floor as Chicago’s Hide, Austin’s Deep Cross, and San Antonio’s Primitive Figure bashed their way through sets equally harsh and lush in sonics. Tulsa favorites Ectospire pummeled with their death metal plasma cannons alongside other locals like Weep Car, TOOMBZ, and Beta BetaMax.
My band, Blind Oath, played too, but I’m waiting for the day that someone who isn’t me can review my band here. We broke three guitar strings during our set, so I’m happy to wait.
Between the bands, DJs and vendors donating their time, Tulsa’s cat-loving music scene was out in full force. And according to Metcalf and Voth, that community is the most important part.
“What I like about Latch Fest, and I’d like to think we’re well-liked,” Voth said, “is when we ask people to be involved in certain ways” — like making the shirts (this year’s were designed by Dan Rocky and printed by Flash Flood), or brewing the beer (for the second year, Heirloom Rustic Ales has brewed a Latch Fest beer adorned with Latch’s face on the can) — ”they are happy to say yes.”
“We had one guy ask to sell garage doors, but after a car drove through my garage and into my house, I said it wasn’t on brand … and maybe a little too on the nose,” Metcalf chuckled. “We’re grateful for the community coming together for a great cause. It’s not just about cats … but community.”
Flores echoed this sentiment. “Visiting New Orleans and seeing how all the great dive bars had a bar cat, or cats,” he said, “I wasn’t surprised that Latch found Whittier. It was nice to see the community have love for a street cat that adopted us. As it says on the side of the patio, ‘Latch is Love.’”
Next at Whittier Bar: Panty Raid, A Tulsa Day Center Benefit, August 25
