Month: March 2006

If the Happy Gnome is any indication, the gastro-pub craze has finally hit town. At this friendly Selby-Dale joint, the quality of the food matches the high caliber of the twenty-five select beers on tap–plus the more than ninety bottled options. Some might even consider the Gnome’s menu slightly upscale for a pub. For instance, the open-faced chicken sandwich comes with bright, fragrant pesto slathered on a crusty baguette, and the hefty bison patty offers a surprise of bacon tucked inside. Crowd-pleasers like the salty rosemary fries seem heaven-sent when paired with a frosty Belgian ale. 498 Selby Ave., St. Paul; 651-287-2018

The presence of Margaux is almost reason enough to buy one of the sparkly new lofts in downtown St. Paul. Imagine strolling just a few steps from home to tuck into a steamy bowl of mussels, followed by a crusty grilled ham and Gruyre sandwich. Why, it could be more convenient than your own dining room! You might also sit at the bar and lose yourself in the giant Van Gogh-inspired mural while taking comfort in perfectly seared scallops with a confit of leek and vanilla sauce. The crispy, buttery frogs’ legs Provenal could redefine the bar snack. Margaux excels at hosting intimate gatherings, so save the big parties for your big loft, and share Margaux with someone you want to get close with. 486 Robert St. N., St. Paul; 651-407-6438

Rhett Miller used to compose perfect road songs and winsome alt-pop melodies for his band the Old 97s. On his own, however, he seems a little lost, mining some faraway alt-rock fantasy in which matters of hair and fashion seem to play a central role. What gives, Rhett? What was it, back then, that helped you write such gems’a muse-like girlfriend, a really great dog, the ramble of life on the road? We know you’ve still got it in ya; we’re just waiting for that Fight Songs-era spark of inspiration to return. Maybe your creative mind worked better when it wasn’t covered up by all that gorgeous anchorwoman hair. We know a good barber; let’s talk before the show. 612-332-1775; www.first-avenue.com

Vasen rocks with such maniacal glee that the recently painted walls of the Cedar might peel back a layer when these enthusiastic Swedes take the stage. This is a folk band, mind you, but the Vasen gang sees no need to give up modern conveniences like running water and electricity. You can bet that if the ancient inventors of the nyckelharpa had had access to an amp, they’d surely have used it. Vasen takes such a progressive approach to bawdy and beautiful traditional numbers that the folk community could have directed them over to Ozzfest headquarters–but the genuine love these guys exhibit for the songs can win over even the classicist folk-rock old-timers. 416 Cedar Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-338-2674; www.thecedar.org

Two factors keeping classical music fresh are movie soundtracks, which give mass audiences an emotional entry point into the genre, and the work of smart young composers like Kevin Puts. Puts has been dazzling audiences with inventive new compositions and interpretations of the standard repertoire. This Minnesota Orchestra performance pairs the world premiere of his Sinfonia concertante for Five Solo Instruments and Orchestra–which spotlights flute, oboe, violin, bassoon, and cello–with Also sprach Zarathustra, the Strauss work made famous by Stanley Kubrick’s sci-fi classic. 612-371-5656; www.minnesotaorchestra.org

As shown in the documentary Fearless Freaks, the front lawn of Lips frontman Wayne Coyne appears normal, even though his backyard is littered with pieces of a full-sized spaceship in his backyard, something he’s building for a film project. Coyne may be a devoted homeowner, friend, and son, but ultimately his mind is elsewhere–on another planet, floating in space, caught in a fourth dimension from which strange and brilliant music emerges. The latest Lips album pairs such spacey charms with a seventies psychedelic rock vibe, harkening back to the band’s earlier work. However, the subject matter is somewhat less cerebral this time out, and more overtly political than ever. Portentous song titles like “The Sound of Failure/It’s Dark – Is It Always This Dark??” indicate that the band has been forced back to Earth out of sheer frustration with the current situation, which has Coyne lumping together George W., Britney Spears, and suicide bombers as three only slightly different faces of evil.

The public mourning here for Kirby Puckett and Dana Reeves last month was matched by millions of music lovers in Africa grieving for Ali Farka Toure, the Grammy-winning Malian bluesman. Toure’s powerful, polyrhythmic, multilingual music served in its way as an agent for peace among warring subgroups in that Saharan nation; fortunately, Tinariwen is still around to carry on the tradition. A Tuareg group that draws upon the influences of Toure as well as Arabic sounds, North African call-and-response singing, and even American-style blues, Tinariwen’s music bridges the sound of the past with the concerns of today. As with Toure’s music, the result is hypnotic. 416 Cedar Ave. S., Minneapolis; 612-338-2674; www.thecedar.org; 612-375-7600; www.walkerart.org

Jeff Feuerzeig appears to have plenty of years left, but he feels he’s already completed his life’s work: the film The Devil and Daniel Johnston. Since first encountering Johnston’s music more than twenty years ago, Feuerzeig has felt it was his divine duty and unique privilege to make a film about its creator. He began collecting music, articles, and artwork by Johnston, carefully amassing a body of research that would prepare him for the more than four years he spent making this collage-like life story. “This is not a rock documentary,” Feuerzeig wants us to know. “It’s more along the lines of Crumb, a portrait of an artist and a journey of madness and creativity and genius.” That’s aiming high, but we felt the comparison was apt.

What was your introduction to Daniel Johnston?
In 1985 I got hold of one of his handmade cassettes, Hi, How Are You, which is his Meet the Beatles album. Not only were the songs so achingly beautiful and raw and real, they were just such a breath of fresh air amid everything else going on in music at that time. He sounded like Billie Holiday to me, or early Bob Dylan. He’s a unique voice, a great piano player, and the art on the cover was captivating. Plus, he put his mom yelling at him on the tapes, which I loved.

He never toured much; hasn’t made many albums. Why did you remain interested?
Because he is such an enigma. I felt like I knew him, but only through his art and music. But that’s the best way to appreciate him. As you see in the film, he remains an enigma, he’s a living ghost, and he’s not even really interviewed in his own film. He recorded his whole life on cassette tapes, as living diaries, and he made cassette letters for friends–so you get to hear him throughout his life, talking about his life, which is much more powerful than an interview. I simply created an internal monologue for his incredible journey.

His life to me was very cinematic. He ran away from home and joined the carnival. He’s made all this amazing art. He created a folk legend about himself. And life with mental illness is never dull. It’s scary, harrowing, tragic, and beautiful. And funny. He’s a very funny guy.

How did it work for you, trying to get inside the mind of a person who has struggled so painfully with mental illness?
It was a pleasure, every minute of it. It was my dream to be in his mind and it was so satisfying to go on that journey that the low point is that it’s actually over. I really felt like I was in his head, and it was so incredible to be so close to this fire that burned so brightly. The rest of the world is just not that exciting.

w did Johnston respond when you approached him to make this film?
He was thrilled and very cooperative. I’d already made a film about Daniel’s friend and collaborator Jad Fair, from Half Japanese, so he knew that I would take his life and art very seriously, and try to make a great film.

So how do you follow up your life’s work?
Well, I’m working on a film about a boxer named Chuck Wepner, a former heavyweight champion who was the real-life inspiration for Sylvester StalloneÕs Rocky. I grew up in Jersey, and he was a very big figure there. He fought Muhammad Ali in 1975, went fifteen rounds and then lost. I love the story of Wepner, and I’m fully immersed in it, but I wouldn’t have been able to make it if I hadn’t done The Devil and Daniel Johnston first.

Has he given up music for art?
His art career is his second act in life. His work is at the Whitney Biennial in New York right now. This is a guy who was in the CBGB gallery just last year, and now the art world is really taking notice of him. But he’s not an outsider artist, despite what many say–he’s studied art, went to art school. He’s the ultimate insider. And it’s just incredible that he’s still alive.

The sweat dripping off the guitarist’s nose, the brand of beer the singer swigs between songs, the exact wording of the rude phrase on the drummer’s T-shirt: These are details you just won’t catch from your seat at the bar. Concert films are great for filling in those gaps, and for preserving the inspired mix of stage patter and altered renditions of songs. But the Beastie Boys’ latest concert flick, directed by Beastie Adam Yauch, plays on both a DIY and collaborative aesthetic by outfitting some fifty roving fans with cameras at Madison Square Garden during one of their concerts. The result is a full-on fans’ view of the show–including trips to the bathroom. Such peripheral activities are mixed with the Beastie’s funky proceedings onstage, which makes for a rapid-fire collage that could inspire legions of fans to claim they were actually at this show. 612-825-6006; www.landmarktheatres.com

Sophie Scholl was one of the few female members of The White Rose, a resistance group that waged its war against Hitler with leaflets and graffiti at the University of Munich. Marc Rothemund’s Oscar-nominated picture re-imagines the final six days of her life–from the mission that got her arrested to her execution just six days later. Since much about Scholl’s pre-arrest life remains unknown, The Final Days is less a biopic than a meditation on the strength of her character in the face of murderous male authority (and in this regard it harks back to Theodore Dreyer’s The Passion of Joan of Arc). Rothemund took as much from history as he could, availing himself of Scholl’s interrogation records and reports from prison guards, who noted how bravely the student walked to her execution, as well as her prophetic last words.