From the margins to the main stage, BLANK is Knoxville’s biggest cheerleader
By Steve Wildsmith
I met Rusty Odom before I ever knew BLANK existed. I just had no idea he was the walking manifestation of that scrappy little tabloid indie that managed to pop its head up in the local media scene and demand a seat at the table.
That was back in 2010, when print journalism still seemed to have unlimited potential. None of us had any idea that we were just stumbling along in the dark down a set of train tracks that would ultimately lead to the end of so many great writers and editors who made Knoxville a damn fine town in which to both work and play.
Already, the power brokers at Scripps were nudging Metro Pulse, the long-reigning titan of independent media, out of existence. They managed to hang in there another four years, and even after the suits slit its throat, the survivors managed to cobble their resources and return with the Knoxville Mercury, an even better independent newspaper, if that was possible.
BLANK, in the meantime, continued to grow. Rusty was patient, and he was content to exist in the margins, never wanting his pet project to be seen as any kind of a rival to either of those papers. If anything, he read them profusely, soaking up the words of guys like Mike Gibson and Jack Neely and Matthew Everett, applying their command of the language to his own scribblings. I’m not even sure when I came to associate him with BLANK, but my first impression of him was that of an eager dude who showed up at the Clayton Center for the Arts in 2010 to catch a sparsely attended show by the British indie-rock band The Boxer Rebellion.
We exchanged numbers, and every once in a while, I’d get a text. Or an email. Or more often, a phone call. We’d run into one another at shows and talk music, and once I realized he was the brains behind BLANK and I began to see the burgeoning talent he collected beneath its banner, it dawned on me that Knoxville was blessed with an abundance of entertainment journalists who worked alongside (and sometimes against) one another in order to promote a vibrant scene that still burns brightly today.
Back then, it was an embarrassment of riches. Wayne Bledsoe and “Downtown” Randall Brown at the Sentinel; Benny Smith at WUTK; Red and Tony at WDVX; Todd Steed at WUOT; the Mercury; and of course, The Daily Times Weekend section, my own entertainment rag that was part of The Daily Times out in Maryville. I made it a point to cover Knoxville as much as I did Blount County back then because I knew that local residents often sought out Knoxville offerings for their Friday and Saturday night fun, and the opportunity to interview artists at all levels of fame was about the most fun a guy could have and get paid for it.
Every so often, Rusty would reach out, on deadline, needing some content to fill space in BLANK. He’d ask to reprint something I wrote for Weekend, and I was more than glad to oblige, if for no other reason than to take advantage of Knoxville distribution since the circulation manager at the Times felt it wasn’t cost-effective to put Weekend out around the downtown area.
Rusty, meanwhile, was slowly cultivating a steady clientele of both advertisers and distribution spots for BLANK, and it was a regular occurrence to post up at Barley’s or Boyd’s or Pres Pub before a show and spend a few minutes perusing its pages. There were growing pains – show of hands, who remembers the “Artsy Fartsy” listings? – but from the outset, Rusty sought to do something different.
It’s not that he shied away from hard or controversial news stories; he just knew that wasn’t his lane. Or, rather, that wasn’t BLANK’s lane. Other papers that had full-time reporters with investigative experience could do much more thorough jobs of telling you about the Kingston coal ash spill or the election intricacies of a WWE wrestling star angling for the county mayor’s job; there was enough bickering and bad news out there that BLANK, he believed, should serve as something of an antidote. Not that “all good news, all the time” was ever an official motto, but Rusty’s gentle spirit and good-natured role as a cheerleader of those who fell into his orbit was the driving force behind BLANK, then and now.
BLANK exists to tell you about the city’s unsung heroes and the organizations that labor thanklessly to make a difference. Those people matter to him, and he’ll tell anyone who will listen about their efforts. It’s that cool hippie friend who calls you from the middle of a music festival and tells you the funniest stories about the best performances. It’s the peek behind the scenes at this town’s doers – not the movers and shakers who get the glossy Cityview treatment. No, BLANK is about the late owner of a tire shop who was widely beloved, a barber giving his first interview at the age of 98 or a musician who’s on a journey of self-discovery that’s every bit as riveting as the music she makes.
Once I left The Daily Times as a full-time reporter in 2018, I texted Rusty that afternoon.
“You win,” I told him.
Within days, I was fully engulfed in “the fam” as he calls it. I was grateful for the opportunity because no matter how far one might stray from the original profession, journalists can’t just let go of the business that easily. It gets in your blood. It gets in your bones, and telling stories – especially via long-form journalism, which is my favorite – becomes as necessary as drinking water or listening to music to take your mind off of what troubles you.
I’ve been a part of this racket ever since, and it’s only gotten better. Not because of my involvement; Lord, I stake no claim on its improvement. But because Rusty remains focused on what BLANK does best and there’s still a market for it. There are more advertisers than ever who want to purchase real estate in it. And there are still folks who like to pick it up when they see one around town, knowing they’ll stumble across a band or a venue or a business or a person they have yet to explore, and they’ll read and think, “This city gets cooler all the time.”
It does … but in part because BLANK is there to tell you about it. A restaurant can have the best food and the most amazing vibe in the country, but if no one knows about it, what’s the point? It becomes just another “Oh, I’ve gotta try that place sometime” on a long list of “I’ll get around to it” goals by folks whose busy lives need the occasional nudge from a publication like BLANK to get them to slow down and enjoy the little stolen moments of bliss that populate its pages.
Because if you know him, and you think about it, that’s Rusty to a T. He’s that guy who sees the world through a different set of lenses, and it’s usually tinged with joy and excitement and the enthusiasm of a dude who wants you to share in that vision.
BLANK has been doing that from the beginning, and the opportunity to be a part of it is … well, hell, it’s the prescription I didn’t know I needed for a talent I often don’t know what to do with about a community I love so, so much. As long as he keeps printing, I’ll keep writing – because Knoxville needs BLANK, now more than ever, and as both a reader and contributor, I’m glad it’s around.
So cheers, Rusty. And cheers, BLANK. Here’s to another 200 issues. And another 200 after that. And hopefully the arthritis (or Wayne, the jealous bastard) hasn’t crippled my fingers, and I can keep slinging words for all of you who feel as warmly about this paper as I do.
wildsmith@blanknews.com
