Category: Article

Before there was David Sedaris, Sarah Vowell, or even, for crying out loud, Dave Barry, there was Fran Lebowitz, a caustic, chain-smoking New Yorker who came on like a cross between Oscar Wilde and Dorothy Parker. In the seventies, Lebowitz was nothing less than a Manhattan celebrity; her Social Studies and Metropolitan Life were best sellers, and she was frequently a hugely entertaining talk show guest. God knows what happened, but the woman clammed up and disappeared. Until we got wind of this rare surfacing, we’d assumed Lebowitz had fallen off the planet. We’re more than a little curious to hear what she’s been up to, and what she thinks of the world she seems to have left behind. And also whether she’ll light up on stage at the Fitz. 651-290-1221, www.fitzgeraldtheater.org

No other living American writer can drop us into the wild, wild West or a Texas countryside like Rick Bass. Writing with empathy and great humility, he makes characters we can touch; we meet them in Montana valleys or while trespassing on a Texas ranch. His newest effort, The Diezmo, combines those qualities with gorgeous desert-landscape love scenes. The Diezmo also feels darker than Bass’s previous efforts; it’s a re-creation of a murderous history along the Texas-Mexico border that conjures Cormac McCarthy’s All the Pretty Horses.

Aimee Mann has made several unusual but ultimately inspired moves in her career, including writing the stunning soundtrack to the film Magnolia and co-founding United Musicians, an organization that allows artists to retain copyright ownership of their work. Musically, with her smoky jazz voice and sharp, melodic pop sensibilities, she can hardly do wrong with her new record, The Forgotten Arm. This one’s a concept album, telling the story of two lovers, one of which is a Vietnam vet on a road trip across America in the 1970s. Mann’s familiar themes of addiction and broken relationships make wrenching yet cathartic appearances in these songs.

Soul Coughing disbanded five years ago, and frontman Mike Doughty seems sublimely content with the way his life has progressed since. He’s traded the psychotic sample stylings of Soul Coughing, as well as his moniker, M., for more traditional songwriting that he calls “small rock” and for collaborations with the likes of Dave Matthews and local fave Dan Wilson, who produced his new solo recording. It still sounds like Mike Doughty, but this is Dan Wilson-flavored Doughty. Haughty Melodic is consistently excellent, the music both upbeat and beat up. And really, who can match Doughty for lyrics? He and keyboardist Dan Chen will perform at Cedar Cultural Center on May 14. Be there or be lo-fi.

In an attempt to reach younger audiences, the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra began offering Saturday morning children’s concerts at deep discounts. Progressive. Now it’s presenting a new work, commissioned along with other chamber orchestras, for violin, chamber orchestra, and jazz saxophone. Very progressive. In the scramble to be king of the tenor-sax hill, Joe Lovano is the schoolyard bully, possessing a mean tone combined with a nearly unparalleled sense of rhythm and chromatic harmony. He’s joined by guest violinist Ruggero Allifranchini, a founding member of the Borromeo Quartet. On the program are “A Man Descending,” by composer Mark Anthony Turnage, which was written to accompany Ralph Vaughan Williams’s “Lark Ascending.” 651-291-1144; www.thespco.org

Broadway has been cluttered lately with Hollywood actors living out their little fantasies. We like them well enough onscreen, but these girls and boys can’t really sing or dance, and they don’t eat enough–which makes a difference to those who believe that good curves can really make a show. Sassy, classy Broadway broads like Gypsy Rose Lee and Lola gave the audience–even those in the cheap seats–something to feast on, with elegant, accomplished burlesque shows that set a standard many of today’s dancers couldn’t ever touch. But the lads of OutLoud!, a small ensemble of the Gay Men’s Chorus, know what it takes to be a woman. In this extravagant tribute to the art of the femme fatale, these scorching songbirds have the heels, heart, and feathers necessary to bring the grand dames of the Great White Way back to life. 612-624-2345; www.music.umn.edu/facilities/tedMann.php

One of the more uplifting moments during last month’s worldwide festival of death was Stevie Wonder’s performance at lawyer Johnnie Cochran’s funeral. His appearance made it painfully obvious that millions of pilgrims in Rome had been shortchanged by the papal entertainment committee. It also reminded us that while he is always handy for an all-star celebrity event (he’s even on the list to appear at Michael Jackson’s trial), he’s been notably absent from the recording studio–until now. A Time 2 Love, the first new Stevie Wonder record in a decade, contains flashes of his lyrical genius, funky good spirits, and ability to befriend just about anybody, including Prince, who plays guitar, and En Vogue, who sing backup.

This tiny shack on a frontage road in St. Louis Park has been around for some forty years, but only during the last four has it begun kicking out truly tasty burgers. Since the former owners of Franks A Million and the Wienery took over the retro spot, they’ve revived that twentieth-century marvel: the window tray. Sitting there propped outside your car, Wagner’s burgers are the essence of temptation: hand-formed, crispy on the outside and soft in the middle, smothered with fresh toppings. Plus, the joint’s old-school Cherry Coke literally glows from the added syrup, and the malts are crazy good. Hit the recline button on your car seat and settle in for a mighty fine meal. 3712 Quebec Ave S., St. Louis Park; 952-933-1857

If restaurants starred in teen movies, the Longfellow Grill would be the smart and sassy new girl who’s had the makeover, but still knows who she is. Featuring roughly the same menu as her sisters, the Highland Grill and Edina Grill, Longfellow is a little sexier and a little more amped, thanks to a bold decor (electric greens and splashy purples play off a black ceiling), not to mention a full bar and late hours. But this grill still knows how to turn out rich and satisfying leek and sage risotto cakes, and a stellar Elvis burger. Perched on an unbeatablecorner–East Lake and River Road Parkway–it’s also got a beautifully situated patio and is sure to become a stand-in-line brunch destination. And who wouldn’t willingly wait for those breakfast kabobs with kicky andouille sausage, or the spinach and tomato scramble with creamy brie? 2990 West River Parkway, Minneapolis; 612-721-2711

Libraries have become boisterous “information centers.” Churches offer rock-n-roll services. Art galleries encourage interaction with the art and with other patrons. Where has all the silence gone? To Patrick’s Bakery. One look at that shimmering pastry case seems to render people speechless. Patrons of this most authentic French bakery behave as if they’re in a museum, or a cathedral, or a library, back in the day: They are reverent. Awed. Respectful. Behind glass, soft light bounces off the egg white glaze on the croissants, the plump belly of an apricot nestled into a custard pastry, the gold leaf garnish on the top of a perfect little chocolate torte. This is more than food; it’s art. 2928 W. 66th St., Richfield; 612-861-7570