Minneapolis / St. Paul Music Blog

Flickr: Charkrem

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If there was anything the VHS boom of the '80s taught us, it's that nobody underestimated the necessity of time-filling, supposedly-disposable and cheaply-made diversions for the VCR-owning masses. Whether through hastily-assembled celebrity vanity projects, public access rantings, stiffly-acted corporate training videos or handheld footage of that wicked awesome weekend back in '92 where everyone got totally blitzed, the omnipresence of videotape exponentially increased the posterity of whatever completely ridiculous nonsense might have passed for entertainment and edification at some point or another.

There's been a major YouTube-fueled boom in goofing on long-lost, unintentionally hilarious and/or horrifying audiovisual detritus. Nick Prueher and Joe Pickett, the two tape-hoarding masterminds behind the five-years-running Found Footage Festival, rank among the most accomplished, with some of their most notorious finds -- like the temperamental Winnebago salesman Jack Rebney -- becoming the stuff of legend, and comedy stalwarts like David Cross chipping in to contribute their own found footage to the Fest (like this popular montage of late '80s video dating bachelors). Not content to stick with just putting streams of their choicest finds online, Nick and Joe have made a riotous roadshow of their choicest thrift-store/yard sale/dumpster acquisitions, combining clips, commentary, skits and the occasional surprise guest star. Their current tour puts them in Minneapolis for two just-announced shows at the Heights Theatre on December 10th, and like many of their previous installations, there's a few notable links to the Twin Cities. I interviewed both Nick and Joe on seperate occasions to get an idea of just how some of this stuff comes to see the light of day.

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Back in August, Mattel announced that they'd be introducing a "Ladies of the 80s" line of dolls, a collection of 80s rockers molded in the plastic, homogeneous image of Barbie.

And now, they've released the hellish images of its poor, unwitting subjects--Joan Jett, Cyndi Lauper, and Blondie's Debbie Harry. Head below the jump for a look at these unholy countenances.

​Might want to skip the dietary advice.

Andrew W. K.-- noise musician, party God, Fox News commentator, and fitness guru.

Mondays are bleary-eyed affairs for us all, be you a beleaguered music blogger gazing wistfully at the lapis sky, or a high-fallutin' investment banker nursing a hangover from Sunday's three-martini lunch.

So head below the jump for a flummoxing work-out video from the Man In White himself, Andrew W. K.

​It's altogether ooky-- for a few million, you can be Marilyn Monroe's upstairs neighbor for all eternity. Or at least until floodwaters wash away your corpse.

Ah, is there anything Americans won't sell?

Add this to the "sounds like a bad joke but isn't" file, if you can fit another slip of paper in there without the thing bursting apart at the seams-- the crypt directly above Norma Jean Baker is up for sale on ebay, and the bidding has stalled out at a cool $4.6 million.

We need a moment to compose a few sordid gags about the late Ms. Monroe. So give us a second to get our heads together before clicking the jump.

Quit pretending to like musical scores on 8 track.

Look-- if we don't let it out, we'll explode or go mad, and then you won't be able to take our clear-headed panning of Eminem's Relapse seriously at all.

Making it through this sordid, wearying life can tax even the most patient, and we at Gimme Noise have always had a handicap when it came to suffering fools. So join hands, if we be friends-- Misanthropology will make amends.

Strange sounds in even stranger combinations, The Turf Club's first run at a Joke Band Festival was totally weird and still somewhat entertaining. Musician Sean McPherson of Heiruspecs recruited the evening's five-band lineup by intriguing folks to put together the band they've always dreamed of creating while highly intoxicated. The results: a three-man doo-wop band, two friends oozing with platonic love, solid raps with not so solid back-up vocals, a harmonious female county trio and an emo goth band.

This Friday, Bryant–Lake Bowl will celebrate 15 years of bowling, boozing, theater, and dining with a themed party dedicated to the ultimate cinematic homage to bowling: The Big Lebowski. In 2006 Premier magazine named it one of "the best comedies of all time," and though it was considered a disappointment at the box office in 1998, in the 10 years since it has grown to be perhaps the most beloved stoner bowling movie of all time. To get peeps in the mood for the party, here’s some fun–facts I’ve found on the flick via Wikipedia, IMDB, and my mind.

Are you funny in front of crowds? Do you routinely show up a Acme’s open mic night or Balls and can get through a routine without boos or polite clapping? Is your fart joke so much more than a fart joke, with greater—yet still funny— implications surrounding the dominant hegemony? Well, this competition is for you, but time is limited!

Are you into international canned beer? How about gnomes? Swords? What about all three of these things together as an artistic statement? Well, have I got the gallery opening party for you!

The Presidential Memorial Commission of San Francisco has a simple mission: To honor President George W. Bush once he leaves office in a way befitting his legacy. Their brainchild? Renaming the city's Oceanside Water Pollution Control Plant after The Decider. If they get their way, the facility will soon be known as the George W. Bush Sewage Plant.