Minneapolis / St. Paul Music Blog

Paula Joan "Polly" Alexander, a founding member of Minneapolis's first all-female rock band, Tetes Noires, died of a heart illness on October 22. She was 47.

"She had such a light heart, but she was a loner at the same time," said Alexander's former band mate Camille Gage. "She was a guitar player, and she liked to be in the back. She had such a wonderful sense of style beyond her time--sort of '50s and '60s kitsch. We all looked half-ass most of the time, but she always looked great.

"Her apartment was filled with kitschy stuff, all this Elvis stuff and smiley faces. I've been thinking about her all day: She loved this one Rick Springfield song, and one time she filled a cassette tape with just that song, and played it over and over."

TV lovers with lots of time to kill can now wallow in hundreds of hours of interviews with many of the medium's most important stars and creators. Thanks to the Google video site, the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences has made its interview archives available for online viewing. These are not soundbite overviews, but lengthy, multipart discussions of careers and programming history. There are about 400 online now (scroll down for the list), from Edie Adams talking about Ernie Kovacs to syndication pioneer Frederic Ziv. (Note: videos require Flash 7.0 or higher.)

The inevitable demise of movie theaters is only news to the industry itself, but now one of its biggest players is sounding the death knell. M. Night Shyamalan (Signs, The Sixth Sense) warned theater owners at this year's ShowEast convention that, if the studios have their way, DVDs will be released at the same time they hit the big screen. "If this thing happens, you know the majority of your theaters are closing. It's going to crush you guys." Meanwhile, the next move in DVD formatting-- Sony's Blu-ray discs and Toshiba's HD-DVD-- is already shaping up to be a "Beta vs. VHS" battle, and it's possible that neither will win, especially if Bill Gates has his way. Of course, if Hollywood just made better movies, none of this would really matter.

Following his cringe-worthy sitcom and even more embarrassing toothpaste shilling, it's safe to say Emeril has worn out his welcome. Rachel Ray has Oprah's financial blessing but she also has that creepy Joker smile. How is it that these kitchen clowns have their own big-time cable shows, while the genuinely likable Christopher Kimball is exiled in Saturday morning PBS? Kimball, the founder and editor of Cook's Illustrated, hosts America's Test Kitchen, one of the few culinary shows on television that views cooking as more of a science than an art. Kimball and his equally talented crew won't fancy up their raspberry cheesecake with sprigs of homegrown mint and lemon zest curlicues. They will, however, investigate over a dozen springform pans and twice as many brands of cream cheese. While his colleagues do most of the actual cooking, the gangly Kimball plays kitchen aide, quiz master, and guinea pig, asking a chef how many species coexist in a box of animal crackers or gamely downing Dixie cups of balsamic vinegarette for a taste test. Now that's a cooking show host. Kimball plugs America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook at the Edina Barnes & Noble November 8.

George Takei, who played Hikaru Sulu in the original Star Trek series and subsequent movies, has come out as a homosexual in the current issue of Frontiers, a Los Angeles GLBT magazine. "The world has changed from when I was a young teen feeling ashamed for being gay," Takei told the Associated Press. "The issue of gay marriage is now a political issue. That would have been unthinkable when I was young." Takei, a Japanese-American, spent ages 4 to 8 in a U.S. internment camp and grew up feeling ashamed of his ethnicity and sexuality. The 68-year-old Takei still acts and also serves on the advisory committee of the California Civil Liberties Public Education Program. Read the interview with Takei in Frontiers here.

The day after news came of the New Times/Village Voice Media merger, an email from Punk Planet was forwarded by Melissa Maerz (with the above tag), headlined "Punk Planet's distro woes." It reads as follows: "Hey there, Last Thursday we received some distressing news--the kind of news that made our very bones ache when we heard it; the kind of news that felt so significant we simply couldn't function after it sank in. With a few days time and the ability to process it, we decided it's news worth sharing: It was a letter from the president of the Independent Press Association, the not-for-profit organization that owns the company that distributes the majority of Punk Planet's copies, BigTop Newsstand Services. The letter acknowledged the truth of a rumor that had been running through indie publishing circles for months now: the distributor was having cash flow problems..."

Liz Phair can certainly generate an argument, but until now I'd never heard someone attempt to insult her by saying she's not Sheryl Crow: Crow has never written a lyric that anyone could call, with a straight face, "brilliant." And neither has Phair for some time, but some time ago is important here, because nostalgia is why I, for one, will still go see her show (despite her Britney headset and other weirdness last time). Because Exile in Guyville is about a lot more than "emotionally unavailable men" (see above link again). It's eloquently about that and about so many more aspects of being a young, creative, smart-but-periodically-fucking-up-big-time, possibly emotionally unavailable woman.

Low bassist Zak Sally announced to Pitchfork today that he is leaving the 12-year-old Duluth-born band. He has been replaced by Duluth multi-instrumentalist Matt Livingston. Sally said in a press statement: "I sincerely hope that someday we can sit in the basement and make music together, but for now, there are more important things than music."

Sally has been busy with his artwork, comic books, and rejuvenated publishing venture, La Mano. Last month, he told CP he wanted to focus on telling stories that resonated the way San Francisco-based La Mano artist John Porcellino's comic-book memoirs can, even when detailing simple stories of eating asparagus for the first time. Sally, who at the time was days away from welcoming his first child into the world, also said, "There comes a time in your life when you just want to make people laugh," perhaps a sign comics and family were to become top priorities for the artist.

Sally's currently working on a lighter follow-up comic to his beautifully dark and visceral Recidivist #3. He also has a cameo in Steve Martin's Shopgirl (reviewed here by Lindsey Thomas), where he plays a member of Hot Tears, the fake band Jason Schwartzman's character tours with. More CP Zak Sally and Low articles can be found here. The new Low line-up performs at First Avenue on December 9th.

He would head to Katrina benefits tonight and Friday, for one thing, if he were around Minneapolis. Okay, I actually have no idea what Paul Wellstone would do. But the third anniversary of his death passed today, and it just seems too eerie not to say anything, too accepting of the fact. Rent the movie about him, pick up the books, listen to a song for him, or read the old City Pages memorial issue. Or better yet, do something, anything, for somebody else, anybody else, to make the world (as they say) a better place. I don't know if that's what he'd do, but it's what you do if you want to be a human being. End of sermon.

2005 would have been the year John Lennon turned 65. Instead, it's the 25th anniversary of his murder. A new multimedia exhibit in Paris, John Lennon: Unfinished Music, recreates the phases of his life, from his Liverpool beginnings to a replica of the Abbey Road recording studio. Many previously unseen personal drawings and manuscripts are being displayed for the first time, as well as his last piano and Sgt. Pepper-era costumes. (One piece of Lennon-obilia that won't be displayed is the envelope on which he wrote the lyrics for "Give Peace a Chance"-- it's going up for auction next month, and expected to sell for a quarter-million dollars.) Of course, it's all the property and under the control of Lennon's widow, Yoko Ono, who never tires of shooting her mouth off about her late husband: when she's not dissing Paul McCartney in a roomful of his peers, she's telling Bono that he's Lennon's lovechild.

I just took a look at the two versions of the new Big & Rich video, both of which make it difficult to evaluate the single. One is a live clip heavy on crowd- and background noise. The other pursues a outer-space conceit, not as charmingly goofy as one might hope, and is heavy on sound effects. The song, "Comin' to Your City," (pronounced "Ci-tay," as on "Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)," last year's greatest single) is an arena rocker about touring. It's no "We're an American Band." But I do like the disco breakdown, and I look forward to hearing it freed from the videos' various distractions. The album, also called Comin' to Your City,

"Thank you; thanks," Dave Pirner told a half-full First Avenue Monday night; "(I've) been saying that a lot lately."

Pirner has been through the sort of year that forces a guy to either quit or count his blessings. June saw the death of his friend, Soul Asylum bass player Karl Mueller, and August saw the probable destruction of Pirner's home in New Orleans. He will see the damage first-hand next week, but first he and the revamped Soul Asylum took to the stage for the first time since Mueller's death.

"I came to this battle not to get the money, y'all, but to get the kill," rapped one contender in last weekend's Freestyle Fridays hip-hop contest at Digital City Music (905 West Broadway, 612.588.2000). He could have been speaking for everyone on the mic. The competitive atmosphere of the month-old event was so fierce that, according to judges at the store, more than a few of those paying the $25 participation fee chickened out. Neither violent bluster nor disses of dark skin--"looks like your mom just got off the Amistad boat"--were taboo in front of the mostly black crowd, gathered around a cage of five-foot-tall chain-link fences. Spirits were high, however. "TJ," age 10, was invited by the referee to kick a verse, and with the words "got cash," the young rapper dropped a block of green bills to the floor, making the room erupt with laughter. Matic, 20, had some of the night's most inspired put-downs--"You got to brush your teeth 'cause your mouth look like Pikachu." But in the end he lost steam against the previous week's winner, A-Ztek, 15 (pictured with a friend, and his name misspelled on the marquee). The Patrick Henry High student told his opponent: "Homey, I don't got to beat you/Um, where's that shorty?/Let him eat you up." He'll win $1,500 if he takes four consecutive bouts, but the social benefits of the event are more enduring. "It's like when we used to breakdance at the Roller Gardens," says Roy Crockett, an old-school b-boy who helps put on the event. "We just had to give kids an alternative to the streets." See more photos at Complicatedfun.com. (Print version of this article here.)

City Pages staff writer and musical raconteur Jim Walsh has recently launched The Walsh Files, a weekly mix of 20 must-have tunes that will finally make your life worth living. Week One's roster includes tracks by Eels, Wolf Parade, R.E.M., Precious Bryant and Broken Social Scene. Walsh will offer a little commentary about each number, and school you on the local release of the week. Check out the site, and offer up your own opinions in the Comments section.

We're halfway through Twin Cities Fashion Weekend (plugged here by, um, one of the participants), but since I'm no fashion plate, and more of an art person, I thought I'd call attention to tomorrow's Art as Fashion/Fashion as Art Exhibit sponsored by Mplsart and Ruby3: (from MNFashion.com) "featuring the premiere of 'Coffin Candy' by Shannon Schafer, the work of designers Andrew Schiff, Lauren Schad and Anna Lee (with more to be added!), and photos from L'etoile Magazine. Come dressed in funeral attire." Hey, that's pretty much what I wear, anyway! 6:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m., Density Studios, 1330 Quincy Street NE, Minneapolis. "Coffin Candy" performance at 8:00 p.m. And for those not fashioned-out by this weekend, there's another event coming Wednesday, Nov. 2, Narcissism: Paper Doll Collection (at the Radisson), featuring a bunch of musical performers.

Jazz singer Shirley Horn died last night after a long illness. She was 71. Here is a review I wrote for the now defunct Request Magazine about Horn's 2001 disc, "You're My Thrill."

Some singers age like fine wine, but it seems as if 66-year old Shirley Horn has always been more like a good whiskey, distilled instead of fermented, with a slow, penetrating style imbued with a dry, smoky tang. Her phrases, like those of one of her early boosters, trumpeter Miles Davis, are full of graceful restraint and beautiful shadows, like sonic feng shui. Accompanying herself on piano, backed by the rhythm section that has been with her for more than a decade and some understated orchestration arranged by Johnny Mandel, Horn illuminates familiar ballads like "You're My Thrill" and "The Very Thought of You" with distinctive, understated wisdom. A particular highlight is Mandel's "Solitary Moon," a mature valentine that luxuriates in the quiet satisfaction of romance. There are wry interludes too--guest Russell Malone's sprightly guitar underscores the plaint of "Why Don't You Do Right?"--but most of You're My Thrill reinforces Horn's gift for articulating the ambiance of love during those moments when words are unnecessary.

And here is the press release about her passing from her current record company, Verve.

I was pretty stoked last week to visit photographer Alec Soth's Minneapolis studio and preview some stuff from his forthcoming book, a meditation on fading love made up of pictures taken around Niagara Falls. Most striking were some bleak yet pretty exterior shots of the area's newlywed-geared motels, and a few florescent-bright portraits of couples in the buff and in hard-to-determine states of endearment. Open about his influences, Soth also had on display his portrait of master color photographer William Eggleston, famous for his vibrant, large-format prints of average people and mundane things. --Dylan Hicks

For a $25 entry fee, you can compete tonight in Freestyle Fridays at Digital City Music in North Minneapolis, where a grand prize of $1500 awaits the winner (if I have the rules straight). The rap battle is cheap to watch, in any case ($3), and I'll be there with a camera covering it for City Pages. 905 West Broadway, Minneapolis, MN 55411-2615, 612.588.2000. Registration is at 5:00 p.m., showtime 7:00 p.m. Click photo for more weekend hip hop as part of Saturday's local celebration of Kenyan independence (including a new Kenyan hip-hop documentary and a night of music at the Blue Nile). Also read more on Saturday's finale of the Soap Factory's essential Afrofuturism event, which kind of ties it all together.

"There Is No Place Like MPLS" trumpets the cover of the Cardinal Sin and Small Town Burn a Little Slower's new split 7" single EP (Grey Flight Records), the contents of which indeed ought to imbue area fans of melodic punkindie with civic pride. The vinyl is done in a lovely black-and-white marble pattern, which, in keeping with the theme of Midwestern provincialism, ends up looking Holstein-ish. Each band gives up an original and a cover (Small Towns take on Rocky Votolato's "Suicide Machine"; the Cardinal Sin do a faithful version of the Wedding Present's "Brassneck"). My no-contest favorite is the Cardinal Sin's "The Saddest Song," tough-plus-vulnerable and completely deserving of its "Yeaaahh!" conclusion.

Saturday night's New Pornographers gig at First Avenue has been canceled. The reason: bassist John Collins has to get his appendix removed. I guess we'll accept that as sufficient reason to bail on a show. No word on whether the band will reschedule.

With the far right in a bit of a slump, the time is ripe for pacifist country fans to make peace with superpatriot Toby Keith, an occasionally great singles artist with whom I for one continue to disagree on matters of foreign policy and beard length. The string of singles from Keith's excellent Honkytonk U started inauspiciously with the title track, a cocky autobiographical statement-of-purpose performed very much in the style of Waylon Jennings. Cocky autobiographical statements-of-purpose generally shouldn't owe an obvious debt to someone else for the same reason that heartfelt love letters shouldn't be ghostwritten. The follow-up singles, though, have been his best since 9/11. "As Good As I Once Was," a tuneful late-August-of-my-years romp performed very much in the style of the Mavericks, has Keith falling into barroom scuffles with rotund motorcycle enthusiasts and threesomes with cowboy-loving sisters. "I'm not as good as I once was," he tells the gals (twins, naturally), "But I'm as good--once--as I ever was." Nasty country hits really turn me on, as do Fender guitars, also heard here. Keith's new single, "Big Blue Note," is a rather blue-note-free toe tapper about getting caught unawares by a Dear John letter. The happy/sad juxtaposition is clever, though by the end the singer's mood is clearly in line with the tune's elfin melody and giggling rhythm. Nice recovery, Tob!

Jasper Fforde is known for his four-volume Thursday Next detective series, in which Next was prone to travelling via a "Prose Portal" into novels such as Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, interacting with the characters thereby alternating the plots themselves. Fforde supposedly bemoaned his cult status and hoped his current effort, The Big Over Easy, would appeal to the those without a masters degree in literature by delving into the world of nursery rhymes instead. Jack Spratt, beleaguered detective and notorious giant killer, heads up the Nursery Crime Division, and is charged with finding out who killed alcoholic womanizer Humpty Dumpty, found in a hundred pieces under his favorite sitting wall. An ambitious young detective named Mary Mary assists Spratt in interviewing witnesses and suspects such as Solomon Grundy, Wee Willie Winkie, and incarcerated mob boss Giorgio "Georgie Porgy" Porgia.

Wednesday, 1:32 p.m., IDS Crystal Court: Dave Pirner, presumably a no-longer-part-time New Orleans resident and local hipster, with baby, stroller and Mama--gazing skyward in the atrium. After some failed attempts to get baby to also look up, there's some discussion about the fountain, and general resistance from baby to sit on a nearby bench. Then all three turn around, with Papa and baby heading out to Nicollet Mall, Mama and stroller heading toward some prime consumerism.

Wednesday, 2:28 p.m., IDS Crystal Court: Ruth Adams, full-time Nye's resident and leader of the World's Most Dangerous Polka Band, sitting on the exact previously ignored bench, muttering to herself and looking toward the heavens.

For roughly a decade Matthew Grimm fronted the fabulous New York-based roots rock band, The Hangdogs. When I was in college I used to go see them at their home base, The Rodeo Bar, and it was always a ridiculously fun, boozy time. They were also semi-regular Twin Cities visitors, playing the Turf Club or Lee's Liquor Lounge.

Two year ago The Hangdogs effectively broke up when lead singer Matthew Grimm returned to his home state of Iowa to care for his ailing father. He's now formed a new band, Matthew Grimm & the Red Smear. Last January, Grimm spent two weeks in California recording an album with Pete Anderson, best known for his work with Dwight Yoakum. The resulting (unreleased) CD, Dawn's Early Apocalypse, is a full-throated yelp of political disaffection with song titles like "Hey, Hitler!" and "Kill the Poor." (Sample lyric from the latter: "Kill the poor, kill the poor, put a cap right in their brain.")

This kind of ham-fisted lefty preaching would be tough to stomach if it wasn't packaged with hooks juicy enough that W. might one day find himself inadvertently humming along with his Ipod. Grimm's making his first post-Hangdogs foray to the Twin Cities on the 28th, playing Lee's. I spoke with him yesterday by phone.

Watch the video for "Do They Know It's Hallowe'en?" and consider plunking down dough for the charity single, now in stores. Performed by "the North American Halloween Prevention Initiative," the parody track benefits UNICEF (as in "trick or treat for...") and features Beck, Sum 41, Les Savy Fav, the Arcade Fire, Sonic Youth, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Joey Waronker, Sloan, Peaches, Feist, Devendra Banhart (who performs Tuesday at the Fine Line, and is reviewed by Andy Beta in this week's City Pages), Wolf Parade, Postal Service, Buck 65, Elvira, Malcolm McLaren, Gino Washington (for more on him, see "Gino vs. Geno" at Complicatedfun.com), Roky Erickson, Rilo Kiley, Sparks, Tagaq, and producer Steven McDonald of Redd Kross, though I have to admit, the only voice talent I recognized on first listen was David Cross. (By the way, did you read his parody of Pitchfork reviews?) Here are the lyrics. Listen while you carve your own virtual jackolantern.

Forget praise from the film's subject herself. My fears about North Country, opening Friday, were put to rest by Minnesota cinema connoisseur Rob Nelson in today's City Pages: "Minnesota-movie vets, including Chris Mulkey (Patti Rocks) and Frances McDormand (you betcha), were offered supporting roles as part of what could easily be seen as a show of respect for our cinematic tradition," writes Nelson. "(Boy-from-the-north-country Bob Dylan was tapped to supply a half-dozen vintage tunes.) And, consciously or not, [director Niki] Caro seems to be channeling the independent spirit of Wildrose (1984), John Hanson and Sandra Schulberg's little-seen classic about the struggles of an Eveleth divorcee (Lisa Eichhorn) working among sexist men at the Iron Range's Mesabi Mine." Read Rob's appreciation of The Heartbreak Kid for background (cover image here), and check out this social action organization spawned by North Country and Good Night, and Good Luck, with accompanying group blog. (See also: a hi-def North Country trailer, Ranger reactions, a real Ranger's preview, and other items in MNSpeak's search engine.) Theron and Caro will participate in a video-conference Q&A after a 7:00 p.m. screening tonight (Wednesday) at the Regal Eagan Cinema 16. A screening at Lagoon Cinema on Saturday at 1:30 p.m., sponsored by and benefiting Minnesota Women in Film and Television, will be followed by a panel discussion of sexual harassment in the workplace.

Twin Cities indie filmmaker James Vculek will be in the Lone Star state this weekend for a screening of his film Two Harbors at the Austin Film Festival. The movie deals with the evergreen issues of interpersonal communication and extraterrestrial contact, and debuted at last year's Minneapolis-St. Paul International Film Festival (the former director of which, scattershot visionary Jamie Hook, is apparently looking for a roomate in New York).

Attendance for the 6th annual Sound Unseen's top 6 films
1. Amazing Grace: Jeff Buckley - 680
2. Born To Boogie - 275
3. ReBirth of a Nation w/ DJ Spooky - 262
4. Be Here To Love Me: Townes Van Zandt - 259
5. Favela Rising - 247
6. Scene Mpls - 189

Overall number of seats sold
2004 attendance - 8400
2005 attendance - 9600

Fort Wilson Riot are in fact composing a five-part suite about globalization, Yankee arrogance, mystical birds, pirates, and more than can be here explained, with music sometimes reminiscent of Sondheim and Beethoven, and yes that might be extravagantly ambitious for a four-piece rock band with only an EP to its name. But don't count them out till you hear how funny and smartly arranged the work-in-progress is, especially its completely over-the-top pirate song. The just-over-a-year-old band--singer-multi-instrumentalist Amy Hager, bassist-beatboxer-singer Joe Goggins, guitarist-singer Jacob Mullis, and drummer Ben Smith--are both earnest and pranksterish, a rare and in this case winning combination that helped them make the Top 10 of our recent Picked to Click new-band poll. We sat down with them last week at the Seward neighborhood's Pizza Luce, where the conversation ranged from the short fiction of Paul Bowles to the risks of making drug references at high school talent shows.

City Pages: So did any of you do musical theater in high school?

Joe Goggins: I didn't do any theater, but I was usually in the talent shows, mostly because it was a way to get out of class for the day. I played original songs. "Barnyard Pervert" was one of them. We auctioned off eggs and hickory before the show. The last one I did was called "Joe's Bong Shop." The administrators didn't like that one, but it was my senior year.

Last month brought this announcement from the department of "duh": "Researchers at the University of Minnesota have determined that concerts damage hearing, and wearing ear plugs can help if people are convinced to wear them." They pay people for this stuff? (Read the rest of the press release here.) "It's not just the loudness of music at concerts that puts your hearing at risk," adds one doctor. "Crowd noise can also have a big impact." Which is what I've been telling that guy behind me for years. What I told the tender ears of singer Juana Molina (pictured), who performs Saturday at the Walker and whose City Pages interview is now live, is what my colleague David de Young has always insisted: that the key to enjoying concerts safely is expensive ear plugs, not just cheapies you buy at the bar. (Most clubs don't even have those.) Soon I'll check out the tinnitus clinic that opened in Edina earlier this year, Audiology Concepts, and report back with consumer advice. Meanwhile, not-quite-deaf Pete Townshend is blogging his novella: Perhaps only a brain attached to those failing ears would mention that the deepest note ever detected from an object in the universe is a B-flat, "57 octaves below middle-C," sounding from a massive black hole in the Perseus cluster. If a tree falls...