Photo by Erik Hess

Danny Brown at Triple Rock Social Club on Friday

Live performance is an incredibly intimate bond between artists and fans, but that intimacy got busted worse than Danny Brown's front tooth during Friday's show on Minneapolis's West Bank. At minimum, the Detroit rapper led several fans at the sold-out Triple Rock Social Club to believe, and many to proclaim on Twitter, that they saw a female concert-goer in the front row performing oral sex on him. At max, the 18-and-up crowd witnessed something that put Brown's evening alongside Jim Morrison's "Miami Incident." Either way, this is one of the most unfun blogs about Brown ever.

City Pages has previewed and reviewed several of Brown's past Twin Cities appearances -- notably weather-torn Soundset 2012 and a slot opening for A$AP Rocky at First Ave. He was one of the paper's Artists of the Year in 2011, and published an interview with Brown last year. The reasons for so much attention are numerous: He's a fantastic dude to photograph, his music is creatively crass, and his live charisma is unmistakable. But the hazy particulars of what exactly happened Friday at Triple Rock, on which the venue itself has declined comment, still stands out as an event that has stirred a less-controllable sort of publicity for 32-year-old Brown. There are some pretty graphic, NSFW stories that follow, so proceed with caution.

See Also:
Danny Brown at Triple Rock Social Club, 4/26/13

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L.A. Nik, downtown Minneapolis's favorite nightlife personality, is a man of many hats. Literally: He always wears a black fedora. And figuratively: He's played drums, he's owned an auto shop, he's held odd jobs in between. Last month, he added another line to the eclectic resume: "author."

For nearly a year, Nik holed up in the Platinum Room at Bank, the Westin's restaurant, and dictated his life's wisdom. The result is Life Is Short Then You're Dead Forever, the first in his three-book deal with a publisher he co-owns. (Next up is a volume of advice for women "about men and their penises," he says).

The book is part memoir, part self-help. Nik breaks down his teachings into eight "powers" that will help his readers avoid what he calls "the comfortable state of hatred."

"This book is just about spreading my wisdom to the masses," Nik explains. "I wasted 15 years -- 10 years in a loveless marriage and five years on drug addiction. I've been a multimillionaire and I've been homeless with no money. I'm just trying to say, 'I did this, you shouldn't fucking do it.'"

We cherry-picked all the Nik advice you'll need.

See Also:
- L.A. Nik turns self-help author with Life is Short, Then You're Dead Forever
- L.A. Nik explains Letterman connection, drops "Friends in Minneapolis" single

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Artwork by Chris Strouth

Makes No Sense At All captures the visions, ramblings, and memories of Chris Strouth, a Twin Cities-bred master of music, film, and everything else.

In countless ways, youth has bypassed baseball as our national pastime. You see evidence of this fetish everywhere -- even in otherwise "normal" people who are suddenly being stricken with Bieber Fever, Taylor Swiftitis, or what could only be described as paranoid delusions of One Direction. (The main symptom of the last one is deluding oneself that One Direction has any artistic value other than being pretty.)

Celebrity doesn't cut it anymore -- it's gotta be celebrity that is 27 and under. If you can't have youth, implied youth is almost as good a choice. Just ask Nate Ruess, the man behind the YOLO anthem "We Are Young." He just turned 31 on Tuesday. You know who else is 31? Britney Spears. Kind of mind-blowing, I know. That means Justin Bieber was four when Britney asked us to hit her "...Baby One More Time." Spoiler alert: I secretly adore her. 

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Why Muzak, as a concept at least, will never die

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Could the "boy" from the North Country be the answer for our drought?

Summer un-officially began this month as pitchers and catchers reported to Florida to mark the start of another season of trying to survive in Twins territory. Even though about 12 inches of snow covers Target Field, we can still daydream of April 1 when the skies will be blue, and Joe Mauer and Justin Morneau will be healthy.

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Tyler Flory is a teacher at Main Street School of Performing Arts in Hopkins. His Music Class column ties together his job and his music fandom in a neat little package.

"I believe [Bob Dylan's] 'Like a Rolling Stone' is the greatest rock and roll simile of all time," I state to my 4th block 9th Grade English class at Main Street School of Performing Arts.

"True. Very true," one student says.

"Amen," proclaims another.

The quest to find the greatest rock 'n' roll simile of all time is essential to me. As an English teacher, I have to teach literary terms and I am fortunate enough to have students with a solid understanding of the arts. This allows me to bring music, film, and dance into the classroom on a regular basis.

See Also:
Review: Bob Dylan at Xcel Energy Center, 11/7/12
Five underrated Bob Dylan songs from oft-forgotten albums

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My first purchase at Northern Lights.

Makes No Sense At All captures the visions, ramblings, and memories of Chris Strouth, a Twin Cities-bred master of music, film, and everything else.

My first record-buying experience at Northern Lights was a bit like losing my virginity. It was a little awkward, a tad messy, a whole lot of embarrassment, but overall a pretty good time.

Being from Fridley is about a continent away from cool. In the 8th grade, my only option for purchasing music at first was the Musicland at Northtown Mall, which was better than nothing and on a bus route. Still, there were only so many Police and Oingo Boingo records you could buy. By this time I knew that the Dead Kennedys and Black Flag existed, but I hadn't heard them. It's the downside of living in a vacuum; well, that and all the whirring sounds and the occasional bits of debris hitting your face.

With all of this in mind, Northern Lights, on E Block in downtown Minneapolis, was the apex of cool. It was an area of downtown that my mother forbade me to go to, so it was perfection.

See Also by Chris Strouth:
My Bloody Valentine's comeback, mbv, wasn't worth the loveless wait

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Unlikely to be on the merch table for tonight, but who knows?

Prince's shows tonight at the Dakota, his last of these "open rehearsal" concerts, are advertised on the Dakota's website with four simple words (and extra punctuation): "Surprise!! (don't miss this!)." These shows sold out in scant minutes and there was almost a Pavlovian willingness to fork over large sums of money to get a glimpse of the most famous musician to which this state can lay claim.

But Friday's four word promise/enticement/possible boondoggle got me thinking a bit about what surprises there might be in store for anyone who decided to forgo what was likely at least part of their car payment just to say they saw Prince in an intimate setting. Could it possibly be worth it for $250? Here are some guesses as to what might happen tonight -- aside from the more likely rumor that he'll debut an all-female ensemble -- along with a likelihood factor. (Though the lower the likelihood, the more rewarding it would be if it actually takes place.)

See Also:
Prince at Dakota Jazz Club, 1/16/13
Prince's late set at Dakota Jazz Club, 1/17/13
Prince books open rehearsal shows at Dakota Jazz Club

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Photo by Erik Hess

"L'apres Midi D'un Faune" was perhaps the 1933 equivalent of Beach House's "Zebra."

Everyone's a critic -- except in Minnesota, of course. Well, we're just as judgmental if not worse in the Land of 10,000 Lakes, but you'd hardly detect it from any publicly circulated opinion on the matter with a byline. Actually, I take that back. Those charged with writing criticism often get shunned from the glow of "Minnesota Nice."

"There has never been a better time to be a mediocre new local band," ex-City Pages music scribe Jim Meyer wrote in 2010 in a scab-inducing takedown of our best new bands popularity poll, aka the "ghoulish toddler pageant" Picked to Click. Unlike most among us, he was brave enough to type out this acrid contention -- in part that "one glad-hand washes the other" when it comes to music coverage -- which mostly makes the rounds more anonymously in local coffee shops, artist interviews in the U.K., and hilariously on message boards.

But did all this "niceness" sprout recently from blogs and hype and bath salts? If there are any septuagenarian readers of Gimme Noise, the estimable John K. Sherman should come immediately to mind. For all others, here's an introduction. In a piece penned in the Minneapolis Star dated December 2, 1933, he contends that opinions on music around here were already "danged monotonous." Whether you concede that it's a problem or not, it sure isn't a recent development.

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Photo by Scarlet Page

Ever since the Lumineers' hit song "Ho Hey" started showing up on airwaves in late December 2011, it's like you can't go anywhere without hearing it being blasted from somebody's headphones or store speakers. Locally, you can hear this juggernaut song on the Current, Cities 97, and KDWB, and probably more. But hey (ho), that's what happens when it's The Greatest Song Anyone Could Possibly Write This Millenium.

The nation is abuzz this week with the news that Mumford and Sons the Lumineers will be taking the spotlight as the musical guests on Saturday Night Live on January 19. We're sure they're going to talk about their Grammy noms and what it feels like to have their first musical offering as a group go up against the more established likes of the Avett Brothers and Mumfy themselves for Best Americana Album and Frank Ocean for Best New Artist. Whatever, Lumineers all the way!

See Also:
The Lumineers on Craigslist, Denver, and Basilica Block Party
Review: Basilica Block Party Day 2, 7/7/12

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Mumford and Sons were featured, somewhat predictably, on Austin City Limits this past Saturday. They delivered a rousing five-song set, featuring "Roll Away Your Stone," "Timshel," "Lover of the Light," "Awake My Soul," and "The Cave."

The fellas were received with wild enthusiasm from the audience, and for all intents and purposes, seem to match that zeal on stage. Seriously, watch the generous 20-minute preview (featuring the entire Mumfy set) and ask yourself if you have ever witnessed a happier keyboard or banjo player. Those kids are hopping in place with an infectious joy.

See Also:
After Mumford and Sons' "I Will Wait" video, life isn't the same
Mumford and Sons releasing new record, be still our beating hearts

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