I was recently asked to be a talking head on some documentary that will probably never see the light of day that is all about different music scenes across the country. They wanted me to talk about Denver. I enjoy music as much as the next guy, am actually friends with a lot of local musicians, but I’m no expert. It got me thinking about the Denver music scene, though, indeed the Denver creative scene in general. And I realized what makes it so special is the city’s size. We’re not the biggest city out there, but we’re not small enough to be po-dunk either. That means it’s easy for a lot of comics, musicians, artists, poets, call-it-what-you-wills, to find a space to ply their trade, but they’re not going to just be blindly accepted or praised for it either.
A small city gets behind whoever is offering up their creative efforts because, fuck it, they’re one of a handful doing it, might as well get behind them. A big city has so many artists offering their wares a lot of good ones get swallowed by the noise, while other shitty ones become celebrated because they fit the current trend. But in Denver, you only really get big if you deserve it. This city gets behind the people it respects and Denver is very much a city where you have to earn that respect. I think a lot of people don’t understand that. As a card-carrying member of the Denver flag-wavers, I often witness the wholesale dismissal of creative-types as the paper champions of a rah-rah bullshit fanbase. I think that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Denver is discerning, and quick to dismiss those people who they don’t think deserve it. Spend any time on a bar-stool anywhere in the city and you’ll witness that firsthand. We’re quick to call out the fakers, the inauthentic, the pretenders who should not be there in the first place. And we’re quick to celebrate their counterparts.
Simply put: if you’re making a name for yourself in Denver, you deserve to be.
Ken Arkind deserves to be.
An American National Poetry Slam Champion, Tex speaker, Nuyorican Poets Grand Slam Champion and straight-up lyrical troubadour who has performed his poetry all over the planet, Ken Arkind has put in his time. He also may just wear Denver on his sleeve more proudly than I do. And that’s saying something. I’ve been a fan of Ken’s from afar for awhile now, getting my hands on his poetry here and there, catching an amazing video clip of his whenever someone more poetically-savvy than I posted one online. People kept telling me I needed to have him on the podcast, that we would have a lot to talk about. I’m so glad I finally listened to them. Ken came by my dining room table and I realized he and I are essentially living very similar different lives right now, albeit practicing different arts, but going from town to town, trying our best to sell ourselves through our chosen medium, all the while worshiping at the altar of our beloved Denver and trying desperately to divert the spotlight here. Even if just for fifteen minutes. It was a blast talking with Ken and I’m happy to now consider him a friend. I look forward to hanging out with him soon and drinking a beer or six. We’ll be the bearded pieces of shit at the end of the bar, praising all the literati we feel deserve it, tearing down all the posers who don’t. We’ll be poetic and way too loud and if you join in our conversation we’ll inevitably tell you how the bar is pretty cool and everything, but you should have seen it back in they day. Back before the city got too big.
Ken Arkind is a great poet and a great guy and a kindred spirit. I look forward to being a Denver old man with him.
We may just be there already.
Check out this piece by David Blair called “Behind the Garage.” It’s what got Ken into slam poetry.
Then check out the episode on iTunes.
i’m the silent geezer in the corner under the air conditioner beside Li Po that aged mumbler, just trying to keep pace w/that monkster’s love of hipster denver brew. we’re both too old to be noticeable. so don’t.