MinneapolitanMusic

Things I am looking forward to doing this weekend (oh sweet, glorious weekend, how I need you so):

There are a lot of great shows scheduled tonight, and I may hit a few of them, but the one I am looking forward to most is Jenny Dalton at the Varsity Theater. Her piano songs are quiet, poignant and lovely, and you can read all about her fabulousness in this piece I wrote for the Pulse. (And, for some reason, I find myself using the word "lovely" everytime I describe her. You have to see her to understand why, but it is so completely appropriate. She defines lovely.)

Tomorrow afternoon I am trekking over to the Record Show with my dad, a tradition that he and I share that we have been practicing for a little over a decade now. If you haven't gone, it is not only a chance to paw through massive collections of vinyl, posters, bootleg CDs, etc., it is also a great place for people-watching. Held in the dingy, musty basement of the VFW on Lyndale (not really very lovely at all but oh so full of character), the show is a prerequisite for audiophiles. The entry fee is only $2 and they even serve hot dogs - though in the 10+ years of attending I don't think either my dad or I have ever braved the concession stand.

Saturday evening is the well-publicized, highly anticipated Chris Koza CD release show. HowWasTheShow is helping to promote the event, so you can hear great music AND see me pimping myself by handing out our freshly-minted new promo buttons. I took the CD for a spin a few times this week, and from the sounds of it, the praise he has received so far has definitely been warranted. Gorgeous, sunny, poppy happiness. Spring, your time has come.

In keeping with my lazy, one-post-every-four-days blogging pace, I thought I should probably get around to doing something today. Sorry for the sloth-like behavior, peeps, things should start to get easier as it gets warmer out and the sun starts to thaw out my frozen, dampered spirit.

For those of you in need of more online Minnesota music resources (and really, we all could use more), I have noticed more and more pages popping up in devotion to our dear scene. Here are a few of note, worth checking out:

• Twin Cities Music Shows fulfills an interesting niche; in the land of chaos and spammed music ads that is MySpace, this page organizes it all into an easy-to-navigate resource for all things Minneapolis music related. Check out the blog entry on their page, it summarizes why people like me do the things I do.
• TCMusic.net provides one of the more comprehensive resources on local bands, ranging a lot of the less "mainstream" genres and posting shows for a lot of the lesser-known bands. A good page to check out when you need something NEW and you need it NOW.
• Minnewiki is a fabulous concept, and is working its way toward being a great resource for Minnesota music history. Hosted by Minnesota Public Radio, the wiki site allows users to add their own information, and is a fun place to poke around.
• Perfect Porridge continues to amaze me. Though they cover more than just local music, they are based in the Cities and often have interviews with local artists and other Minnesota-relevant tidbits. Check out the site every Monday for a great listing of the week's concerts.
• More Cowbell not only has a great name, but provides breaking (and I mean breaking) news on national tours that are coming to town. I just don't know how he does it...
  

Share your favorite MplsMusic resources in the comments.

I am going to keep this fairly short, because there are a lot of things to say about Stook and some of them will need to be said at a later date.

I have been spinning this disc, Soundtrack to My Minneapolis, in my CD player for a few weeks now, and I just plain can't stop listening to it. This isn't hyperbole, this is the truth - ask my husband, even, he probably has half of Stook's lyrics memorized involuntarily because of my stubborn, recurring need to say "one more time, I swear."

Things you should know about Stook, for now:

1. The record makes a fantastic addition to a three-CD shuffle that is already playing High on Stress' "Moonlight Girls" and the new Tim O'Reagan album (which is also quite delicious, by the way).
2. The song "I Keep on Fallin' in Love With You" should be in a movie, and I mean that in the best possible way. When I listen to it, it makes me want to become wistfully misty-eyed and run dramatically down a crowded city street.
3. The album takes so many turns between pensive, rocking and soulful that you will think you are listening to a mix tape. A really, really good mix tape.
4. Stook has definitely been in love and been scorched by it, and provides amazingly accurate descriptions of both experiences.
   

The man behind Stook, Joshua Stuckey, has collaborated with a crew of talented local musicians (Caleb Garn, Jordan Carlson, Toby Lee Marshall, Pete Lochner, Jonathan Earl), and the CD is the product of intelligent songwriting and excellent musicianship. They will play together at Stook's CD Release party on May 5 at the Terminal Bar. (Stay tuned for Part 2, sometime before then.)

This past weekend marked the third anniversary of local up-and-coming independent label Afternoon Records. Headed by 21-year-old Ian Anderson (a remarkably productive young man who also plays in two bands and co-manages the alternative music journal Sliver Magazine), the label is home to some of the Twin Cities’ best new indie-rock and teen-emo bands. Their label showcase at the Triple Rock last weekend proved that each group has something unique to offer to our ever-expanding, increasingly youth-dominated music scene.

Here’s a look at a few of the bands on the Afternoon Records roster:

Probably the most established band on the label is Superdanger, a conglomeration of music scenesters that have been around the block. Guitarist Scott Hefte also fronts local act Seymore Saves the World, bassist Caleb Rick is a producer for the cable-access show “Nate On Drums,” and drummer Jake Hanson has played in Cowboy Curtis and 12 Rods. Together, they create a sweet, innocent rock sound similar to beloved indie-rock founding fathers Built to Spill and Modest Mouse, and Hefte’s soaring vocals are decidedly Martsch-esque.

To quote myself, if I may, “The Superdanger sound isn't necessarily unique, as it follows fairly basic dreamy-indie patterns in an emo-before-emo-got-lame sort of way, with arching vocal melodies, plucked out guitar chords, and plenty of lyrics about girls, parties, and their ensuing problems. But there is something infectious about their songs, a staying power that is more significant than typical pop music allows.”

Check out my live review of the Superdanger CD Release Show for Fight! Fight! Fight! from January of this year for more information.

One of Ian Anderson's bands, Aneuretical, is another force to be reckoned with. As a band who is comfortable with the fact that they are often described as "a teen band," the group takes advantage of their position in the pigeon hole by providing soul-wrenching teen angst music and enough all-ages shows to host their growing number of dedicated young fans. There's no doubt that this band takes themselves seriously, as they already had two albums under their collective belt by the time any of them were able to drink legally.

Aneuretical plays next at Carleton College on April 21.

Ian's other band, One For The Team, is one of my favorite new acts around. The band is so spastically energetic at times that it is impossible to watch them without cracking a smile, or better yet, wiggling a little to the music. Their songs are carefully crafted to include tempo changes and sing-along choruses, making their music immediately catchy and fun. Keyboardist Sam Gerard (also of Squareshooters) is especially fun to watch, as he spends more time jumping and jolting around the stage with his tambourine than he does with his hands on the keys.

Read my review of one of their past shows here, and keep an eye on these guys - I have a feeling they might be just infectious enough to gather a following. They are putting together a full-length release at the moment, which is expected to be released in June.


Another creative force to look out for is Battle Royale, the skinniest group of kids I have ever seen. They boogie down to electronica that is both silly and satisfying, and their set Sunday night was so fun that I immediately threw down $4 for a burned copy of their 4-song EP. The band consists of a drum machine, an electronic synthesizer, a guitar player, and a real live female bass player (seemingly hard to find these days, no?) who adds cutesy vocal parts to their dance mixes. The group manages to pull off being both ridiculous and fabulous - go to their MySpace page and click on "Oh, Martha" to see what I mean.

Rumor has it that Battle Royale will also be releasing a new CD in June, though their live act is so appealing I might just have to catch them again before this summer.

There you have it, folks, a brief glimpse at one of my new favorite record labels. Other Afternoon Records bands include Ampersand, Hello Blue, Look Down, Linus, The Plagiarists, Squareshooters, Tower Thick Walls, and Viceburgh. You can find out more information (and get links to their respective MySpace Pages for sound clips) at the Afternoon Records MySpace Page.

I’m in a weird mood today, teetering on the edge of knowing what to do with myself.

I think I am in some sort of gathering phase, foraging through old writings and articles and trying to put a dent in my sheath of ignorance about Minnesota music history. The temptation is strong to pause and reflect and have one of those "what does it all mean?" days; sometimes I think I get more joy out of examining my life and what I love and hate about it than I get from actually living it, and it scares me a little. Even when there is a clear path through the trees and you've got a good map, there are times when it is ok to stop a moment and look back at how far you've come, right?

Ok, enough with the crappy woods metaphor.

In full "what does it all mean?" force, I am thinking today about my heroes and rock mentors. Just so you know who to blame when I can't and won't stop talking about music. Some people idolize rock stars, I idolize rock writers.



This first one is a picture from 1982 of Jim DeRogatis interviewing Lester Bangs. Jim was 17 and Lester was 2 weeks shy of the end of his life. This picture is powerful to me because of the innocence coupled with weariness, the young lighting a new torch off the burnt out old flame.

"Over the next few hours, I caught a glimpse of another Lester," DeRogatis wrote in 1999, "one that was very different from the gonzo legend. He seemed to be as interested in me as I was in him, continually asking me what I thought, what I was reading, and what I was listening to. We listened to records and bullshitted amiably for what seemed like forever, even after I'd asked all of the questions on my yellow legal pad and turned off the tape recorder."



This next picture isn't so much a rock hero as the perfect description of how I feel most of the time that I am working. I probably don't need to explain, but it's from Almost Famous and Patrick Fugit here is playing the role of baby Crowe, the budding journalist. Obviously I have never written or interviewed to the extent that he did, writing for Rolling Stone and touring with national rock bands and such, but there is a definite feeling of unabashed naivity that follows me around everywhere. I am not a hipster, I'm really not very cool at all, and yet I force myself to go out night after night, prowling the town, hiding on the sidelines of clubs, soaking up the idea of community. "See, friendship is the booze they feed you. They want you to get drunk on feeling like you belong."

Despite my husband's insistance of Cameron Crowe's hackitude, his movies make me go all soft inside and I have yet to make it to the end of Almost Famous without a tear in my eye. My favorite part: toward the end, when the rowdiest of the Band Aids, Sapphire is talking to one of the rock stars about the new set of groupies. "They don't even know what it is to be a fan. Y'know? To truly love some silly little piece of music, or some band, so much that it hurts." Sing it, sister!



This last one is more locally based, but if I had to choose one reason, give one explanation for why I write anything, music/poetry/otherwise, it's because I grew up nursing a huge crush on the writings of Jim Walsh. In high school I would get up extra early every Friday because it was Music In The Newspaper day, and I would read all of Jim's columns as fast as I could and go out to Best Buy and grab up as many of the CDs that he wrote about that I could with my measley Pet Food Outlet, minimum wage income.

I wasn't very sure of my writing back then, and I had this strange habit of hiding everything I did under my mattress in messy piles of scribbles because I was too scared to show it to anyone. There is a longer story here, but since I never showed my writing to anyone I never really got any encouragement about it, and on my 18th birthday I got the best present that anyone could have ever given me: a line in the paper describing me as having a "gift for writing." That one little compliment kept me going for years, I still think about it sometimes.

I don't know how to come to terms with these heroes, exactly. They're people like I'm people, but I feel like there should be a way for me to show their impact, show that writing and music and all of it can have a real effect on other people, whether the results were intended or not. Or maybe I just feel like saying thanks.

Time to saddle up and hit the ol' dusty trail again!

More proof that people like the Arctic Monkeys because other people like the Arctic Monkeys.

(To clarify, I should add that I actually think "WHATEVER PEOPLE SAY I AM, THAT'S WHAT I'M NOT" is a pretty decent disc and the single gets stuck in my head, for sure. But come on, people, can we move on, now? They're not going to save rock and roll.)

I really did intend on writing a nice little organized review of the Arctic Monkeys, but hell, it just seems so pointless. Instead, here are some thoughts I had.

After all the reviews I read, I was expecting something mind blowing, but there isn't anything really new or ground breaking about them. They're good, but in a good ol' rock way, not a Next Great Thing way.

It's been a while since there has been something really truly innovative, I think people are getting antsy. And I really feel like people should just chill out and let it happen. There is probably some genius in some basement somewhere who is scared to death of sharing his/her shit because getting pushed into the spotlight as the Next Great Thing pretty much guarantees that they will be forgetten about 6 months later.

I don't know, maybe Arctic Monkeys are Jesus Christ reincarnated and I'm just not seeing it. My question is, what's the big deal?

Yes, I know, you're expecting some sort of awestruck rant about the massive amounts of snow that were dumped on us this morning. Truth is, it didn't really surprise me at all. Sure, it sucked to stand on the street corner with snow flying into my coat from all directions for 30 minutes until I figured out that my bus just wasn't going to come. Yeah, it was hard work shoveling the 6+ inches of dense snow off my car so I could drive it very slowly into work in St. Paul. But when did we, as Minnesotans, stop expecting these things to happen?

I had a busy weekend, filled with both good and bad events. For sanity's sake, I only feel like recalling the good parts right now.

Thursday night I went out to catch the lovely boys of The Debut at the Hexagon, and despite spending most of last week away from writing and all things productive, it was great to be around a bunch of people that were all really excited about my article in the Pulse. It was also the first time I had gone out to see a live show for about a week, which may not seem like too long but felt like an eternity in my mind. David took some good pictures of the band.

On Friday I went out to the 400 Bar to catch Backyard Tire Fire, a great alt-country band from Chicago. As someone pointed out later that night, I have been discretely attempting to catch every Chi-town band that comes through town. Just doing my homework...

Speaking of Chicago, does anyone want a used upright piano? I am probably going to get rid of it when we move, since it is only worth about as much as it would cost to move it down there.

Later on Friday evening I headed over to the Hexagon for Steve Marsh's birthday party, which is about the most insane I have seen the Hex since I started going there. My favorite description, from Steve's blog:

The rest of the guests seemed to fall into one of three categories—high school at White Bear Lake, college at St. Olaf, or hipster trash from the last ten years of living and working in the city.

I can tell you for sure that I didn't go to White Bear Lake or St. Olaf.

At the Hexagon I heard Friends Like These (it was also John Soloman's birthday) and the Beatifics, both of which I have heard before and could hear again and again. It was nice to see so many musical people all in one room, there was a great energy that night.

Saturday night was a mind-blowing musical experience, as we took in Tracy Bonham and Martha Wainwright at the Fitzgerald. I hadn't been to a sit-down theater concert for a long time, and it was a refreshing change of pace to be able to sit still and contemplate the songs. Bonham was especially riviting for me, but both women had great sets and then played together at the end. Tracy and Martha both had CDs come out last year, and from the way they sounded live I am going to have to pick up both albums. I will have reviews of the Fitz show and the Friday 400 Bar show up on HWTS today.

The end of Saturday night was spent at the Turf to hear Colonial Vipers Attack. I don't know if I just couldn't change gears fast enough, but I never really got into their music and the lyrics were especially difficult to hear. Whoever was running sound at the Turf on Saturday had the master volume turned up way to high! The recorded versions of their songs that I have heard, however, are quite good and I will have to scope these guys out at a different venue.

After their set we spent some quality time in the basement drinking and chain smoking, followed by a 2:30 visit to Little T's. The perfect end to an overall fairly decent weekend.

[self pimp]

I had an article published in the Pulse this week.

[/self pimp]

More to come soon. (News, not bragging.)

Valid reasons for not blogging / things that definitely are upsetting:

1. The only sports hero and Twins player that I ever knew the name and position of just died.
2. Even if nothing bad was happening, the month of March makes me sad and sloth-like and sometimes when it is grey out I just want to cuddle up in a swath of self-pity.
3. I can't find the notice for one of my best friend's dad's funeral.

I have been thinking lately about the concept of a sort of "quarter-life crisis," a twenty-something meltdown that it seems like almost everyone I know endures, or has endured at some point. There comes a point, usually right after college (for me it started in the last days of high school) when there is a break in the clouds of all of the bullshit they teach in school, on TV, everywhere: that every person should have a pre-determined career path that they are just meant to follow, and that if you get good grades in high school and go to a good college, then your whole life will magically fall into place and be spectacular. And everyone, sooner or later, realizes that this is bullshit, and it causes a complete and total freak-out.

The point of this babble (and there is a point) is that there is hope.

Take Sorta, for example, a hard-working band-done-good out of Dallas, Texas that is starting to make waves. Their last album, Little Bay, has been in heavy rotation on my mp3 player this last week, with memories of their show at the 400 Bar last Friday still ringing in my ear. The guys in Sorta have a philosophy about music that I find to be fascinating, a way of approaching the whole big weird game that is so refreshing:

"Sorta is a band emboldened by the confidence that, whatever change of direction it makes on a whim, things will all work out," says the band's bio. "But not knowing exactly where they’ll end up or how they’ll get there … well, that’s the thrill of it all."

This is the kind of philosophy that is looked down upon in "mainstream society," but wouldn't it be great if we could all embrace it? Do we really need a map, a specific formula for success and the same dumb college-->job-->kids-->retirement-->death scheme that has been making people flip out for years and years?

If it's up to me, let it go down,
fall down, flee
But it's fun
Everyone's happy and everyone's young!

The guys in Sorta really know how to mix genres, and Little Bay just might be one of the most diverse records I have heard recently. The album starts out with a twangy, Eclectone Records-type feel to it, building on alt-country and dancing acoustic guitar with pedal steel. Before long they venture into psychadelic funk-rock, and then blast into a rock that conjurs up simultaneous images of Steve Miller and Neil Young. It's good stuff, and it's all tied together with a theme of fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants freedom.

So when I grow old and lonely
Will you just stay at home
Will you decide what's best for me
Or, will I be on my own?

Starry-eyed
Starry-eyed

Sorta has a new album coming out this month. They're still pretty small nationally, and that, combined with their aforementioned collective free spirit, has left the release date up in the air for now. But I am looking forward to hearing more from these guys very soon.

I promise I'm not normally this new-age philosophical. Just one of those days. Here is a quote from George Monbiot that I found to be especially moving, on the topic of maintaining a free life:

So my final piece of advice is this: when faced with the choice between engaging with reality or engaging with what Erich Fromm calls the “necrophiliac” world of wealth and power, choose life, whatever the apparent costs may be. Your peers might at first look down on you: poor Nina, she’s twenty-six and she still doesn’t own a car. But those who have put wealth and power above life are living in the world of death, in which the living put their tombstones – their framed certificates signifying acceptance to that world – upon their walls.

You know you have only one life. You know it is a precious, extraordinary, unrepeatable thing: the product of billions of years of serendipity and evolution. So why waste it by handing it over to the living dead?