The Klammies Go Uptown

Those efforts were under way as close as the lobby, where a booth was set up for people to add their names to the list of those interested in starting a local chapter of NARAS, the organization that heads the Grammys. That said, it was time to get back to the reason such a thing should exist, with a performance by Arthur Dodge & the Horsefeathers, easily showing why they were nominated for Best Folk Act and Best Country/Bluegrass Band. The first song was an acoustic-driven lesson in subtlety, and the follow-up was a potent barn-burner.

Next on the agenda was giving out the L.C. "Speedy" Huggins Critical Achievement Award, named after the late KC jazz and blues drummer, which two PitchWeekly staffers had the honor of presenting. "Past recipients of the Klammies Critical Achievement award have included Mayor Emanuel Cleaver and club owners Roger Naber and Brett Mosiman. This year we recognize someone who has worked in conjunction with one of those previous winners to provide a vibrant and nourishing habitat for local music," began Music/Film Editor Jon Niccum. "Wisconsin-born Jacki Becker first became a staple of Lawrence's music scene when she created a radio show called Plow the Fields Martha for the University of Kansas' KJHK. The program was a haven solely for local artists and then continued as a feature after her graduation from KU."

Staff Writer Shawn Edwards, who served double duty as the evening's backstage announcer, continued the scripted speech before stumbling over a couple of phrases and condensing the entire spiel into five words: "Yo, Jacki is the shit."

Even though Becker was working the Klammies in the role of stage manager, the award came as a complete surprise to her. "Wow, I had no idea at all," she said, leaving her place behind the scenes for her moment in the spotlight. "I'm so proud of the Lawrence and Kansas City scene. For the 10 years I've been here it's been amazing, and everything is coming around again. You guys are all wonderful. I don't know what I'm supposed to say."

That could have been because Becker didn't realize she was even up for an award (no nominations are announced to the public) until Mosiman told her to pay attention to what was going on out front. "You can't hear anything backstage," she later revealed. "I just suddenly heard my name and I thought it was from my walkie-talkie." As great as it was to win, Becker sarcastically mentioned that it would happen this year of all those possible. "The one year my boyfriend's not here and the one year I don't bring my camera." Still, Becker got to relive the honor when two friends who were sequestered in the box office all evening found out about it after the show.

Best New Band recipients Cross Country Felons also didn't have much in the way of friends, family, or even band members in the crowd, though Timmy the Wrench, the only Felon who could make it, offered a tragic explanation of why. "I regret that tonight Horatio Ignatz and Rod Ramrod can't be here," he started. "We got some bad news Wednesday. They had a friend down in Connecticut that they grew up with that was in a bad motorcycle incident. They had to go back and deal with that, help his family, and they're in Connecticut now, but they wish they could be here. This award is for Corey Cerrone, their friend who died."

At least Ignatz and Ramrod had good reasons for not showing up. Scheduled next on the bill was Kansas City native-gone-national and the only performer with her own dressing room, Solé, but she was nowhere to be found. After all was said and done, Event Coordinator Jason Dockery still wasn't sure what had transpired. "We were supposed to pick her up at 8:30 p.m. from the Hyatt, and she wasn't there. We sent a cab, and the cab acted like we hadn't called so we sent another one," he said of the first-ever performer to no-show at the Klammies. "I sent two different cars to go get her and they went to her room. They had a Do Not Disturb sign on the door, but they knocked on the door, banged on the door, and then we got security to bang on the door. We called her over and over and she didn't call any of us."

Edwards heard a different version of the story. "According to reports, Solé broke a nail while she was in her hotel room and wouldn't come out," he joked.