March 16, 2008 - March 22, 2008

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Pack up all your crime and porn...

Filed under: Local Nightlife

Block E, 1973

When I was a kid, "Block E" in downtown Minneapolis was where the prostitutes were. It was where the porn was. The cheap drinks too. It was everything city officials didn't want downtown Minneapolis to be. So they destroyed it. And when they destroyed it, the story goes, they sang a song. It went like this:

Pack up all your crime and porn, Block or scorn, be reborn, Bye bye Block E

No one here can stop and aggravate us, No more hard-luck stories will deflate us, Say goodbye to urban blight, Now we'll light up the night, Bye bye Block E.

People don't sing about Minneapolis that much. Okay, Craig Finn sings about Minneapolis a lot. But that's just one guy. Slug has a song about Minneapolis - but it's kind of trite.

You know who kind of nailed it? Tom Waits.

Christmas Card from a Hooker in Minneapolis is not about Minneapolis. Not exactly. But whenever I hear the song it's like he's singing to me from the burnt-brown corner of a Block E bar. And he's created a museum in his song of the "hard-luck stories" city officials sang about as they destroyed the block's undesirable establishments.

Block E looks like Houston now: a Hard Rock Cafe, a Gameworks, a multiplex. But Waits, it seems, sings his song from a place that for all I know still exists beneath all the neon and glass.

Here he is...

Posted by Jeff Severns Guntzel at March 21, 2008 9:57 AM | Comments (8)

 

It happened at Oar Folkjokeopus...

Filed under: Local Music

There's a Bob Mould interview over at Gay.com that got me thinking: first, about how cheap it was of SPIN magazine to out Mould the way it did. Here's that exchange:

Back in the '90s, SPIN magazine threatened to out you. Did that piss you off because it's really no one else's business?

It was either "You can talk with us and we'll write about it, or you won't and we will," and I was like, "Well, that sort of sucks."

So I could either not talk to them and have them write about it their way, or talk to them and have them write about it their way [laughs]. Now it's just a funny story to talk about, I find it quite humorous. But at the time, it was a little unnerving -- in fact, it was upsetting. I felt like I had made a poor showing of myself through no fault of my own. The few attributable quotes were stretched a little outside the context in response to a simple question. The answer I gave appeared to be even more self-hating that I actually was. [Laughs.] I was like, "Wow -- how did I do that?"

Second--and there is no relation to the first item here--about how many incredible record stores we've had in the Twin Cities. Here's the relevant excerpt from the Gay.com interview:

When you met Grant Hart at a local record store, you guys formed Husker Du. Back then, the record store culture was a vital part of creativity for emerging musicians. Are you sad or nostalgic at the disappearance of the neighborhood record store, and the whole community and scene that surrounded it?

Oh, absolutely. It was a different culture and a different time. I think the sadness sets in for me when I consider the ritual of having to get a job to make money, to get on the bus to go to the record store, to spend time reading about music -- buy the right records, going to the counter and hoping they don't sneer at you when you bring the record up. That whole thing added value to the process and to the music, made it more valuable as an experience. You had to really work for it, and you had to study, and that's all gone.

It's kind of silly, but I always kind of liked the challenge of not making the counter clerk sneer at my purchases. It made me sharp--made me dig a little deeper. It never meant I didn't buy what I came for, but it did often mean I threw a little something extra in. To this day my record collection is full of those little somethings, and I'm glad for it.

You've got to make the snobbery work for you. That's the moral I suppose.

I digress. Constantly.

It's the record-store-as-community thing I'm interested in here. Let's get sentimental...

I'll start--here are four really good memories I've shoveled from the recesses of my tiny brain:

@ OAR FOLKJOKEOPUS: When I was in my early 20's and mowing lawns in the suburbs, I'd cash my paycheck each Thursday and take $50 to Oar Folk to buy records. All Thursday, which was usually the day I'd mow that Golden Valley shopping plaza (where Down in the Valley used to be) off of Olson Memorial Highway, I'd be thinking about what I wanted to get. Usually I'd just think in genre, sometimes just aesthetic: "I'm only getting blues albums with black & white jackets today." It was a delightful game.

@ GARAGE D'OR: Remember when the Melvins played there sometime around 1998? They still had Mark playing bass: the guy who always dressed sharp and wore a cowboy hat and, rumor had it, never cussed. That show was so packed I had to go outside and climb up on the window behind the makeshift stage to catch a glimpse.

I think they had just released Stoner Witch...

@ AARDVARK: Okay, nobody from the city ever went to Aardvark (the sister store to Roadrunner), but a counter job there was my ticket out of lawn mowing. And yes, I was a snob. I was playing The Residents one day when a middle-aged woman complained. "Play something normal she sneered." I asked her what that meant. "I don't know. Just play some R.E.M.!" I obliged, sort of. I put on an interview with R.E.M.--and she was out in a huff.

I also remember stealing the concrete brick we used to prop the door in the summer. I found a photo of Babes in Toyland playing at the store and that brick was keeping Lori Barbero's bass drum in place. In those days, as far as I was concerned, Lori had invented cool. She even had a cool drummer's face! So I took the brick and used it at home and on tour to hold my bass drum in place.

@ HYMIE'S: I discovered Tanya Tucker there. I was looking for a song I had heard over the First Avenue P.A. before a Golden Smog show back in like 1995 or something. All I knew was it was about New York City. I bought that record Tucker made when she was like 13 because it had a song with New York City in the title. It was the wrong song, but hell if I didn't spin that record at my wedding a decade later.

What about you? Is anybody out there? Get sentimental with me...

Posted by Jeff Severns Guntzel at March 20, 2008 1:54 PM | Comments (11)

 

Haale: Fields of clover and tantric sex

Filed under: Music

Today marks the beginning of Nowruz, Persian New Year. While the Iranian-American parents of Brooklyn-born songwriter Haale are putting out traditional decorations like hyacinths and goldfish, the singer has already celebrated by releasing a new CD this week on her own label, Channel A Music.

The album, her first full-length effort, is one of the most memorable albums of the young year -- whether you're talking Western year or Persian. Haale's tour in support of the release brings her to the Cedar Cultural Center in two weeks.

Musically, the psychedelic trance rock of "No Ceiling" incorporates Sufi music into swirling American guitar sounds. Lyrically, it draws on the works of mystical poets Rumi, Hafiz and Attar. Like the two five-song EPs she put out in 2007, the singing is a mixture of English and Persian.

This offers the listener different entry points. When the lyrics are in English, you can relate to the words -- Haale holds a Master of Fine Arts degree in poetry. When they're in Persian, non-speakers of that language can get lost in the sound and multi-layered rhythms that owe as much to Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix as they do to any type of world music.

"No Ceiling" uses the skills of producer Matt Kilmer on percussion, resulting in a fuller and more textured sound. The result is a deeply sensual release, powered by the groove and Haale's smoky, honey-thick voice.

"If there's a good groove, there's a lot you can access there," she says. "As a poet, you're speaking through your senses." We spoke with her by phone on Wednesday.

City Pages: Your new record, “No Ceiling,” just came out on March 18. I'm interested in what you think the differences are between your first two EPs and the full-length album.

Haale: We did about 90 shows in 2007, and we got to play the songs that were on the EP, and we got to compose some songs while we were on the road. So basically "No Ceiling" came out of our first year of touring, and the sound got a chance to settle, I think, and mature a bit. I think "No Ceiling" as an album has a cohesiveness, though I think every song is quite different, like a little city on its own.

The EPs came out really in a period of exploration. I was trying different things. We probably recorded about 20 songs and the other ten we never released -- I'll probably release them at some point. But I wanted to just give a little taste of what we were up to.

CP: You have an MFA in poetry. How does that background inform your music?

H: A lot of times songs start with the lyrics for me. The lyrics are really my anchor in the song, and I love poetry. I love to read poetry. Poetry is something that you know you can meet it at any point in your life and it has meaning. It has enough ambiguity and dimension to intrigue me after repeated readings or listenings, so I really respect what you can do with language and I try on my own to do something interesting with it. It's very important to me. When I listen to music, I'm always listening for the lyrics.

CP: Lyrically, you draw on a lot of Sufi poetry.

H:. For the Persian songs, yeah. These are Sufi inspired poems with mystical themes and nature-based themes and themes of unity and transformation. And I am also very influenced by poets writing English, like Allen Ginsberg and H.D. and Muriel Rukeyser, and then poets like Bob Dylan and Joni Mitchell as well. So I am definitely coming from a background of a lot of poetry swirling in my head.

[The Sufi poems are] mostly speaking about love and unity and transforming the self. Getting through emotions like anger and fear. This what the mystics are often talking about. And finding peace. So I would say it's very very pragmatic, secular, and beautiful themes that run through the poetry.

CP: Did you grow up listening to Sufi music?

H: I definitely heard the music as I grew up but it was just kind of like wallpaper -- like always in the background and I didn’t really pay much attention to it. I mostly felt like an American kid, and I was listening to American music, and then there was a certain point in my life when I got older and I was like, "Wow, I've got this heritage behind me." I always had dreams of singing in Persian. Once I started doing that it seemed natural, and I said "Well, what if I try and bring the languages together ..."

I wanted to somehow bring it together which is just a more honest way of me expressing myself. When I was just singing in English it wasn't really the full picture.

CP: What's the experience of performing live like for you? Are you trying to engender a particular emotive response from the audience? Or are you just hoping they'll come and enjoy the music?

H: I guess I can't really say I want anything out of the audience. I hope people dig it, and feel it. I like sometimes hearing people's responses. I've heard a very, very wide variety of things. A lot of times people note that there's a hypnotic trance thing happening, that they sort of get swept away and have a kind of tranced-out experience.

One woman once came up to me and said she had a flashback of one of the most beautiful moments in her life when we were playing -- of her child when she was about 3 years old falling backwards in a field of clover and laughing hysterically. And she hadn't remembered that moment for like 10 years.

And then another couple said to me, "I hope you take this as a compliment, but we practice tantric sex and we do it to your CDs." And I said, “Awesome.” Another woman said to me, "you know, I watch your shows, it makes me want to go out and have sex."

There is an aspect of something being released in people that seems positive, and an embracing of life, I think.

Haale's "No Ceiling" is available now. She plays at the Cedar Cultural Center on April 2.

Posted by Jeff Shaw at March 20, 2008 6:41 AM | Comments (1)

 

Clubbing! Show ads from a hairier era...

Filed under: Unearthed

We've gone deep into the City pages vault and emerged with a handsome collection of ads from the big Twin Cities metal clubs of the '80s.

We've got a rich archive here at City Pages headquarters, and we'll be mining them from time to time for a series of posts we're calling Unearthed. For the Sex, Drugs, & Awesome Hair story, I pulled dozens of issues from the '80s and scanned ads from the big clubs of the day. These images go along with our vintage slideshow of the bands. Here they are, see you at the show!

1 9 8 4

1 9 8 5

1 9 8 7

1 9 8 8

Posted by Jeff Severns Guntzel at March 18, 2008 4:08 PM | Comments (2)

 

Raving about the Raveonettes

Filed under: Concert Review

The Raveonettes
7th St. Entry, March 17, 2008
Review by Jeff Shaw
Photos by Daniel Corrigan

Did St. Patrick ever make it to Denmark? Doubtful. But the free access between the First Avenue mainroom and 7th St. Entry packed Danish duo the Raveonettes' show at the Entry on St. Paddy's Day. Green bead-bedecked partygoers out simply to celebrate mixed amiably with fans of the Scandinavian popsters.

Enjoyable as the music is, festive isn't quite the word to describe the Raveonettes. Blending atmospheric modern rock with danceable retro creations, the group gives off an easy, brooding cool. Album opener (and set closer) "Aly, Walk With Me" gives one the feeling of being in a 1950s film noir -- or a Tarantino flick that nods toward the past with an edge.

The Raveonettes. More photos by Daniel Corrigan.

When the slower, moodier songs gave way to the more upbeat, though, visitors saw the power of fusing the Ronettes with indie rock. An early rendition of the gem "Dead Sound" got people moving, as did a later rendition of the surf rock ditty "You Want the Candy." Presumably I'm not the only one with that tune stuck in my head hours later.

They're not a shoegaze band by any means, but the Raveonettes' wall-of-sound arrangements and soaring guitar tones make their show a much more aural than visual one. This is despite Sharin Foo's silver brocaded top and haircut reminiscent of Pris from Blade Runner. There's no on-stage acrobatics, no jumping about. Just well-paced songs with well-placed vocal harmonies.

And it's enough. Well before the band encored with "Twilight," it was apparent some were at the Entry to dance, some were there to listen, and some were there intending on a different show entirely. But drawn by the power of pop songcraft, we all stayed. St. Patrick is said to have driven the snakes out of Ireland, and if they would have played a second encore, you would have had to have driven us out, too.

Posted by Jeff Shaw at March 18, 2008 1:07 AM | Comments (0)

 

Dispatches from our ambassadors abroad (in Texas)

Filed under: SXSW

South by Southwest is over. Our ambassadors to the Great State of Texas have dropped down 35W into Austin and sprung back like some sort of cross-country yo-yo. The whole time, a message board tethered to the website of Minneapolis label Modern Radio was transmitting dispatches from the expedition.

Band members with user names disguising their identities from all but the message board regulars wrote from the road there and back and from the long days of the festival. Here is a smattering of the chatter:

On the road there:

SCAMP: after the lightrail broke down this morning and i missed my flight, i thought i would never make it. but somehow it all worked out. and it's t-shirt weather. yes.

GERM WAR: We're almost in Texas. Vampire Hands overslept and might miss both of their shows today. Still no sign of Whataburger.

From the festival:

SOAPY KITTENS: Hotel mania. Nappy times. It's so nice out! I don't care about bands anymore.

CHANCE: I clogged my friend Mike's toilet. Poopy water flowed all over the bathroom floor. I'm watching the SXSW channel on their TV.

On the road home:

GERM WAR: We're currently at the slowest gas pump in history, somewhat north of Wichita. We'll be home around 11am or noon. SROBOT: no one should be sad about not making this. It was amazing, and I loved abt everything I saw, but keep in mind everything is happening at the same time, things can be far apart, and you will be so drunk that it's hard to read the little book that tells you where everything is.

Read all of the SXSW dispatches here.

Modern Radio was also the sponsor of the insurgent showcase Minnesota Migration. The label put on a show for Twin Cities bands who were not accepted by the official SXSW planning committee and invited a few who were as well. Sounds like a good time. Here is Minnesota Public Radio's piece on the event.

Welcome home, wayward servants.

Posted by Jeff Severns Guntzel at March 17, 2008 2:51 PM | Comments (0)

 

Peggle: The incredibly addictive iPod game

Filed under: Gaming

Spin magazine recently reviewed iPod games. While the magazine's timing was right, it made an eggregious omission: Peggle, the device's first five-star game.

I recently upgraded from an iPod mini to an iPod classic. Impressed with the fidelity of the screen, I of course downloaded a bunch of music videos I watched once, then swiftly moved into the more interesting waters of iPod games.

There is not much to recommend here, I'm afraid. Previous to my discovery of Peggle, the only game that got more than a few plays on my iPod was Phase, which is by Harmonix, the maker of the popular Guitar Hero series as well as the new Rock Band. Phase offers a much more limited input--rather than a fullblown plastic guitar, you're crippled with a clickwheel, which you use to cycle between three circles (left, center, right) in time with the beat. But what it lacked in control mechanics it made up for in customization: You create "Phase Playlists" of your favorite music which are converted into levels to play in the game.

This, to me, is the Killer App of iPod games: You should be able to choose your own music to listen to. That is the advantage that iPod owns over Nintendo DS and Sony PSP, and if it is to be a player in the already saturated market of handheld gaming, it will have to exploit it for all its worth.

Peggle passes the first test in spades: The game plays any of your playlists in the background. Not only that, but the game occasionally augments the music by cutting to an aria during the tensest moment (EXTREME FEVER!). It's hard to explain, but it works to great effect and never detracts from the experience of listening to your custom mixtape.

The gameplay of Peggle was best described by my colleague (and future national VVM videogame blogger) Nate Patrin, as "Arkanoid meets pachinko" You fire a ball at an angle into a block of pegs, then the ball bounces down at crazy angles until it reaches the bottom. At the end of the round, the pegs that the ball hits disappear. The goal is to eliminate all of the orange pegs in ever increasingly difficult formations.

That's the simple description, anyway. There's also a moving hole at the bottom that can save your ball. Oh, and super powers that you get from boss battles.

It is incredibly addictive. Not only did I play through the game--a feat that took several hours a day for about a week--but I then became obsessed with the "Challenges" which include eliminating EVERY peg, scoring ridiculously high, beating the computer in two-player battles, and marathon sessions of several boards in a row. I can honestly say I played it more often than several Wii and PSP games I own.

Posted by Kevin Hoffman at March 17, 2008 9:50 AM | Comments (2)

 

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