Trae Crowder
The Loony Bin
Tulsa
July 12, 2024
If you were on social media in 2016 and missed Trae Crowder’s “Liberal Redneck” series, the algorithm might’ve determined you weren’t “liberal” or “redneck” enough to want to see it (or the algo knew you wouldn’t angry-click). The viral videos tackled American issues like the opioid epidemic, racism and the Black Lives Matter movement, and the rise of MAGAism. Crowder was celebrated for breaking stereotypes, offering a progressive take on these topics with his signature small-town Tennessee twang.
Compared with other big cities, Tulsa’s not the most liberal. And, compared with other parts of Oklahoma and the South, we’re certainly not the most redneck. For this reason, I wondered if Crowder’s stand-up sets last weekend at Loony Bin would pull in many attendees. While the majority of Tulsans would likely feel like frauds claiming a “hillbilly” identity, probably most anyone from Oklahoma has some family that might claim “country.” I attended Friday’s early show, the first of four all weekend, which saw a packed house. Clearly something resonates.
I messed up so you don’t have to — here’s a tip: If Loony Bin’s doors open at 6:00 and the show starts at 7:00, aim for the earlier end. I arrived around 6:45, and after checking in at the ticket counter and stopping at the bar, I was seated in one of the last remaining seats (first come, first served, apparently). Fortunately I still had a good view and chill tablemates, but I was pretty far back and right up against a wall.
As soon as I sat down, a server asked if I’d like any food, which I declined. I’d just stuffed myself at The Tropical. (Right on the way if you’re driving from midtown/downtown. No need to grunt about driving to South Tulsa — enjoy it.) The service was great throughout the night, but if you do happen to be seated in the back, you might be faced with the occasional blocked view due to the attentive wait staff. And, p.s., I took a couple of photos, but I don’t think you’re really supposed to.
Landry Miller kicked off the night right on time with some local flavor, indulging in some good old-fashioned self-deprecation. He revisited a “joke so bad they wrote about it in the Sapulpa paper” — apparently the Sapulpa Herald called his comedy “innocent and kind,” an “admirable effort.” A solid, short set, just enough time for Miller to warm us up and remind us Hey, local comics are doing the damn thing too. Donnie Sengstack of Nashville followed with a set mostly focused on his stutter. “Three weeks of marriage and I’m already at the Loony Bin,” he opened, then joked that he was relieved to be in the South because “people talk slower.”
For the main event, Crowder strolled onto the stage with a Bud Light and a “Well, shit,” immediately appealing to the crowd. He talked about getting heat recently for asking Joe Biden to step down, which was almost as bad as when he called Bernie Sanders “a soup-eating motherfucker.” Crowder’s set was, fittingly, just as much political commentary as it was straight comedy. Early in the set he quoted Oklahoma’s own Will Rogers: “I am not a member of any organized political party — I am a democrat.”
The lack of unity on the left served as a throughline, though he conceded that we are united in the underlying premise of “we’re all gonna fucking die.” He introduced his theory that the hot sun makes white people insane, “like werewolves in the moonlight,” pointing to the American South, Florida, Arizona. “That’s the real danger of climate change.”
He poked fun at Governor Kevin Stitt for battling against DEI, noting that diversity, equity, and inclusion are kind of weird words to take a stand against, while celebrating that Oklahoma is somewhere “where real people live,” versus his new home of Los Angeles, where people are “delusional but not scary.” In a bit about attending a law conference, he noted that “lawyer” is one of the only white-collar jobs available if your voice sounds like a “racist banjo.” There’s a built-in trustworthiness in the accent, he joked: “This guy’s too dumb to be duplicitous.”
What people seem to overlook about the South and “flyover country,” where we live, is how truly diverse it is. Sure, our state’s politics might leave much to be desired. But the people? We’re not so easy to put in a box as people on the coast might like to think. Crowder described being in “permanent racism probation” based on his accent alone in LA. He recounted being asked by Angelenos to describe what institutional racism is like. “Why are you asking me? LAPD is right there.”
I don’t subscribe to the idea I’ve heard tossed around town that Tulsa has low self-esteem. I think Tulsans and the city itself have a great sense of self-worth, even if we might be looked down upon by larger metropolitan areas. I think that’s probably why Crowder speaks to us, and why local audiences packed out the venue last weekend. I’m sure many in the crowd felt like I do: that someone like Crowder isn’t actually an anomaly, because we know people who speak like him and think like him. But it’s important for those from different places (i.e., not from the South/middle America) to see it too, so I assume he really is breaking barriers for people by — often in the same breath — celebrating and critiquing the kind of complexity only this part of the country can offer.
Next at Loony Bin: Tom Thakkar, July 19 and 20 (early and late shows)
