“I'm gay, so I can't play the guitar solo,” jokes Sam Buck.
A smile appears on his face as the unmistakable jingle of Tim McGraw's “I Like It, I Love It” floats through the room. Audience members laugh knowingly: the tall, bearded musician could tear him to pieces if he wanted to, but on this night, fun trumps virtuosity.
Buck stands beneath the soft glow of Tiffany-style accessories, his guitar slung casually over his shoulders and his brown cowboy hat casting a shadow over his black jean jacket. Behind him, silver tinsel sparkles, a glamorous Nashville backdrop for the intimate setting of Permanent Records Roadhouse, a cozy bar and record store in Glassell Park. He's starting KFM Karaoke Country Revue, a monthly celebration where honky-tonk culture meets the queer community to toast, jam, and dance to songs like old friends on a Garth Brooks ballad.
“What I love about this show is that it's like Goldilocks: It never goes right,” Buck says before announcing the night's singers.
Rosie Ruell sings “El Toro Relajo” on Karaoke Country Revue.
This is not just a showcase; It is a paradise. A place where country music, with all its contradictions and complexities, embraces its messiest, strangest, most joyful self. Trans, non-binary, queer, gay, cis, and straight artists take the stage with the same goal: to make space to celebrate country music for those not typically accepted by their stubbornly conservative circles.
During its two years of operation, KFM, named after Buck's KFM Country Radio podcast, has attracted talent such as Julianna Barwick, Dougie Poole and Jae Matthews of the electronic duo Boy Harsher. One of the evening's guests, Amber Coffman, former co-leader of the Brooklyn-based indie band. Dirty projectorsmoves the crowd with her performance of “Hard Candy Christmas,” a 1978 Dolly Parton classic, which she officially covered in 2020.
Attendees cheer on artists at Karaoke Country Revue at Permanent Records Roadhouse.
The Los Angeles-based Sedona singer, dressed in a vintage T-shirt that reads “Rodeo Girls,” performs a rocking version of Bonnie Raitt's “Angel From Montgomery.” And Loren Kramar, an up-and-coming orchestral singer-songwriter, smolders with Little Big Town's “Girl Crush.”
The microphone is not just for experienced artists; However, Buck makes sure the show runs smoothly by selecting the programming and requiring everyone to rehearse beforehand. The setup looks like karaoke, with Buck providing backing tracks, but there's no lyrics screen to lean on. “Bad karaoke can be very difficult if someone is drunk or doesn't know the song,” Buck says. “[KFM performers] “I have to learn the song and I have to put some care into it.”
For example, comedian John Early sings the Chicks' “Wide Open Spaces,” prancing dramatically with choreographed moves, while Nicholas Braun of HBO's “Succession” watches from the audience.
Comedian John Early, who starred in the HBO Max show “Search Party,” sings “Wide Open Spaces” by the Chicks.
Other shows have featured comedians such as Kate Berlant and Casey Jane Ellison. Longtime KFM regulars like Chloe Coover and Maddie Phinney, hosts of the popular perfume podcast “Nose Candy,” bring their own fabulous style: Phinney trails Céline's sophisticated Black Tie perfume and Coover is dressed in a dress long gala while singing NewSong's hauntingly sentimental Christian country ballad, “The Christmas Shoes.” Artist Erin Bagley performs Fleetwood Mac’s 1977 country-rock “Silver Springs.” And Buck's sidekick JT Friedman leads a raucous rendition of Alan Jackson's “Honky Tonk Christmas” while handing out candy canes with a stocking.
Rosie Ruel, a promising pop star who stands out as an energy worker and real estate agent, belts out the bombastic bullfighting song “El Toro Relajo,” which leaves the audience stunned and underscores a KFM principle: that the lines of the genre are meant to be followed. Mariachi is really just Mexican country music, Ruel tells me later.
Sam Buck gives Maddie Phinney a birthday gift after Phinney sings “Tempted” by Squeeze at the Karaoke Country Revue.
Mary Rachel Kostrova, owner of vintage eyewear boutique Eyefi, delivers a sensual rendition of Melissa Etheridge's “I'm the Only One,” her voice filled with raw emotion. Growing up in Georgia, Kostrova witnessed the polarizing presence of country music: omnipresent, but accepted only by those who are not afraid to openly claim it. Among his peers, he remembers the well-known comment about listening to all genres except rap and country. A wry smile forms on his face. “And now a lot of people say, 'I only listen to rap and country,'” he says.
“Country is in a very interesting place,” reflects Buck, who will perform a show with Mercedes Kilmer (Val's singer-songwriter daughter) at Zebulon on February 9. Pop stars like Beyoncé and Post Malone are experimenting with the genre. while the country's own Kacey Musgraves and Taylor Swift are closer to pop. Meanwhile, the industry is cautiously diversifying, but support is uneven. “There's no mainstream gay musician,” Buck says. “I'm not sure there ever will be.”
Buck's journey into the genre is its own kind of outlaw story. Born and raised on the Massachusetts coast, a place far removed from the historical cries of the South, he grew up feeling like an outsider for being a Miranda Lambert fan. “I'm a Yankee through and through,” he says. “But anyone who lives in a rural area knows that country doesn't have to come from the deep south. In terms of stolen rural value, I have probably stolen more than most.”
JT Friedman, right, speaks with Chloe Coover after Coover's performance.
KFM began as a pandemic-era podcast. Buck spins country records, tells meandering stories, and indulges in sharp gossip about the county's elite. “I have to be careful,” he jokes. “If I talk about [so-and-so’s] “My husband is an ex-cop and his disgusting bow-tie pasta, I don't want that to come back to her, in case he ends up playing a show with her.” She doesn't shy away from criticizing controversial figures like right-wing influencer Brittany Aldean (“She only believes in bad things,” she says), but the podcast's charm lies in its mix of irreverence and authentic reverence for country music.
For Buck, who also works as an artist (and recently exhibited paintings of architecturally significant Los Angeles homes at Echo Park's historic Taix restaurant), the appeal of the KFM Karaoke Country Revue (the next one takes place Jan. 23) lies in their privacy. and chaos. “It's messy, it's beautiful, it's small,” he says. “Here people feel like they connect with each other. And in an age where everything is about getting bigger and louder, I think small things are good.”
And as the night progresses—voices rise, drinks flow, and silver tinsel sparkles under the lights—Buck reflects on the strange universality of country music. “The more time goes by, the more I realize that everything is country. Especially Los Angeles.”
