Month: October 2005

“The music is a mix between old skool hip-hop and northern soul and going for a dynamic feel like a double dutch team.” That’s how Go! Team leader Ian Parton described his band’s sound in a recruitment ad a few years ago, but he was probably forced to be brief. Actually, it’s something of a game among critics to identify the whole mess of other genres the Team throws around. Their solid pop-rock foundation is distinctively sauced with blaring horns and cascading drums inspired by seventies action TV shows, as well as hip-hop and rap, punk and new wave, and unintelligible cheerleader rants that recall the sassiness of Kathleen Hanna from Le Tigre. Throw in some Bollywood and Motown, some harmonica and banjo, and you have the makings of a sonic disaster. But in the hands of these six energetic Brits, it’s positively ebullient. And while they don’t shun scratching and sampling, it seems that what they love best is analog sound, served straight-up and raw at a live show. 612-332-1775; www.first-avenue.com

For a young female songwriter, treading the folk-bluegrass line can be tricky. Tip too far toward the sensitive folkie side and you might get tossed altogether into the “women’s music” ghetto. But sing or play with too much of a twang and you can be relegated to the stodgy “pickin’” circuit, where politics lean to the right and men wear mustaches. Young gracefully navigates this dodgy terrain with music that takes cues from American tradition but doesn’t seem stuck in the past. She’s a country girl at heart, which shows in abundant agricultural metaphors (Plow to the End of the Row was her first album), her liner-note dedications to 4-H’ers and organic farmers, and album art that’s full of ornate vintage prints and folksy-philosophical musings. But she’s well versed in the world beyond the back fence, deftly touching on current events and big questions in her astute lyrics. It doesn’t hurt that her Little Sadie sidekicks are first-rate pickers who seem spiritually connected to their flaxen-haired leader. This is hand-sown, pesticide-free music in a megafarm world. 416 Cedar Ave S., Minneapolis; 612-338-2674; www.thecedar.org

A soaring and reflective composition by the American composer Stephen Paulus (who has a role in our profile of Libby Larsen, his friend and colleague), the world premiere of this oratorio features mezzo-soprano Christina Baldwin, soprano Norah Long, and the Basilica Cathedral Chorus. Expect a heady and deeply emotional performance in an inspiring space, presented by the Minnesota Orchestra to mark the sixtieth anniversary of the liberation of the prisoners from Nazi concentration camps. 88 17th St. N., Minneapolis; 612-371-5656; www.minnesotaorchestra.org

One of our favorite newer bands hooks up with a few of its esteemed forebears from the local scene, for what is perhaps the most anticipated of the Guest Session Sunday concerts. Those puckish young men in their blue tracksuits, who’ve been criminally forced to drop the “Olympic” and play simply as the Hopefuls, will be joined by both drummer Peter Anderson from the experimental popsters Polara and by the Flops, that sly “boy band” composed of John Munson and Matt Wilson (pictured here). And since Dan Wilson is also showing up, this could count as a de facto Semisonic/Trip Shakespeare reunion. Finally, with Rake columnist (and Current DJ) Mary Lucia hosting, this has all the makings for a witty and delightful evening. Fitzgerald Theater, 10 E. Exchange St., St. Paul; 651-290-1221; www.fitzgeraldtheater.org

I know that some people commute many more miles to work than I do and they don’t seem at all put out by it. But to me sometimes it feels like I work in a whole other state or even galaxy. I contemplate the frequent flyer miles I’ve accumulated. I gas up, load the car with supplies and mentally prepare to travel a long, long distance. For I work in downtown St. Paul. For a South Murderapolis gal this is a road trip.
When I first began my daily trek to the land of windbreakers and hockey, I noticed that an unusually large cross section of the driving population travels east on I-94 with an open flatbed truck filled with small, jagged rocks. Naturally, I am always behind this person and their load of missile-like debris. Crossing the river, I start fumbling in my purse for my passport, panicking, “Wait! Are all of my booster shots current? Did I ask someone to bring in my mail and feed my cats?” I do love that this ride provides me with consistent random visuals. One day I found myself traveling behind a rusted-out beater, a huge Lincoln Continental with a mattress precariously tied to its roof. If the driver swerved the tiniest bit within his lane, the Posturpedic shuddered from one side to the other, threatening at any moment to fly off into my windshield. When I made it to the next lane to pass, I saw that the driver was a woman in her early hundreds. I thought about her all day.
It’s natural for the occasional bug to meet his maker by splatting on your car windows, but birds? Is this a St. Paul thing? This has happened to me many times, most memorably the time that I noticed a large, blackish cluster of twigs stuck in one of the wipers. Only when I turned them on to shake it off did I realize it was a hummingbird! I figure I had probably concussed his little head as it dragged back and forth before my very eyes, and now I was so freaked out I just wanted this thing off my windshield. So I turned the wipers on “high,” said a quick bird prayer, and flung that sucker into the St. Paul vortex.
Email Mary at popularcreeps at yahoo.com.

Sometimes, disaster strikes in just the right way. The phenomenal guitarist Django Reinhardt honed his dazzling gypsy jazz style while recovering from a fire that lost him the use of two of his fingers (and nearly cost him his leg). The two-fingered playing style he developed actually improved on his already astonishingly speedy and complex music. Likewise, French composer and jazz guitarist Dorado Schmitt (pictured) used his recovery period from a car accident and subsequent eleven-day coma to learn to play the violin. His virtuoso performances with the festival band keep Django jazz cooking for audiences who can’t get enough of this electrifying genre. 1010 Nicollet Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-332-1010; www.dakotacooks.com

Romance, love triangles, the older man/younger woman syndrome… didn’t we get enough of all this with Sex and the City? Maybe so, but they’re offered up with some engaging insights (and affectionate jabs at L.A.) in Steve Martin’s adaptation of his 2000 novella. The days grind by for the broke, lonely department store salesgirl Mirabelle (Claire Danes)–until she crosses paths with two archetypal suitors: a suave, womanizing, but ultimately remote millionaire (Martin) and a more age-appropriate but hapless lover boy (Jason Schwartzman). Excruciating romantic dilemma ensues; but count on this one to pan out in not-so-pat ways. 612-925-6006, www.landmarktheatres.com