Blog

When talent and friendship meet on stage, magic is

bound to happen. And indeed it did. Old School Freight Train left their audience spellbound as they strummed and drummed their way through an energetic and soulful seventy-five minute set at the Cedar last week. For me, the time flew by much too fast. OSFT kept me smiling and tapping my toes through their last measure. Their beaming smiles and playful commentaries, proof that the five band members were truly enjoying themselves, propelled the audience into a good time as well.

Old School Freight Train’s music is deeply felt and skillfully performed, but what kind of music do they actually play? "That’s a good question," said guitarist and lead vocalist Jesse Harper. "I don’t want to say that we’re folk rock. We’re kind of Radiohead meets all things that are good."

For OSFT "all things that are good" include a mix of folk, jazz, soul, pop, bluegrass, Latin, and Celtic music. They have even been known to modify the occasional disco tune into a more acoustic number. They are not bound by a particular style or genre of music and see themselves growing and changing as they continue to play. One major change that the band already underwent was the addition of percussionist Nick Falk six months ago. "It’s been great for the band," said bassist Darrell Muller. "It seems like the music has more of a backbone now."

Old School Freight Train has been going strong for seven years, and most of their success is attributed to the fact that they are self-proclaimed best friends. "You see other bands," said fiddler Nate Leath, "and they don’t even sit at the same table during dinner. We’re not like that at all." It’s a good thing too. The band members, Jesse Harper, Darrell Muller, Nate Leath, Pete Frostic, and Nick Falk, spend hours on the road together while touring all over the country. "It’s always an adventure," says Harper. "The best part of our job is meeting new people."

It was certainly an adventure just getting to the Cedar. The band’s van spun out of control while driving from Chicago to Minneapolis, and they had to wait two hours while a tow truck came to get them out of the ditch. The band, however, seemed unperturbed as they played their upbeat melodies with heart and soul.

It is a shame that more people did not brave the cold to see this spectacular band. Their music was so rich and textured that it had an almost tangible quality. The combination of guitar, drums, fiddle, mandolin, and upright bass was exquisite and seemed effortless. It was the type of captivating music that cannot be produced by talent alone, but by feeling completely comfortable with the other musicians standing on stage with you. Everyone in the band has their own life and their own job, but they all agree that the band comes first. It is something very special in each of their lives, and that kind of commitment to music is obvious when they take the stage.

It is hard for me to sing anything but praises for OSFT, especially when they think so highly of our fair state. "We love Minnesota," said Nate Leath. "Everyone is so friendly and welcoming here. We always have a great time." Unfortunately, the band is still not very well known in this area, but hopefully that will change as more people discover their rich sound.

The band, however, does have one major problem: its name. They are ready for a change, they say, but cannot decide on a new name. While driving to Minneapolis they were discussing different ideas for band names when their van careened into the ditch. "I think it was an omen," said Jesse playfully. "Yeah," chimed in Nate, "the death of our van was like the death of our band’s name. We need to find a new one." The task is potentially up to you, readers. Go to OSFT’s website, listen to their music, and send them your suggestions. Maybe their new name will hail from the state "that hasn’t always been easy to get to, but has always been worth it."

*A special acknowledgment should go to Orange Mighty Trio, the band that opened for OSFT while they were making their way to the Cedar. Orange Mighty Trio had an excellent performance and did a commendable job helping out in a bind.

OK, I know what cheese is. And I also know — because I researched it once — why it exists.

In nomadic societies, back when people had to carry their food on their backs as they moved from place to place, and spoilage was a huge and potentially life-threatening issue, particularly in the heat, tribes discovered they could "preserve" their goat, cow, yak, or sheep’s milk by putting it in a burlap sack, throwing it over their shoulders, and walking briskly. Agitation and warm, re-circulated air caused the milk to separate into curds (cheese) and whey. The latter, they would drink immediately. The former, however, would last them through the winter, providing protein, calcium, and fat. This makes sense to me.

Modern cheese-eating, however, does not. I happen to live with two voracious cheese eaters: men who love triple-cream bries and smoked goudas but will also go through entire blocks of sharp cheddar, Swiss, and monterey jack. Pizzas, enchiladas, quesadillas. Everything the world is hungry for seems to be smothered in cheese.

From a health standpoint, however, cheese has done an about-face. Whereas once it saved lives by providing sustenance during times of snow cover or drought, now it does little by my estimation than add things to our diets that few Americans genuinely need.

I rarely eat cheese. I would never choose it as an appetizer or a dessert. One exception: when it will improve my wine. Then I’m all over it.

I’ve done wine tastings with chocolate, with biscuits, and with fruit. Nothing — and I do mean nothing — brings out the unique flavors of wine better than a perfectly paired cheese. The right blue with a robust Bordeaux. Manchego alternated with a spicy Rioja. Chevre to accompany a dry Sauvignon Blanc.

This is nearly universal among the serious wine drinkers I know. Jack Farrell, owner of Haskell’s and a staunch Catholic, once told me, "If you have a glass of vintage port and a little bit of Stilton cheese, that’s when you know God’s in heaven and all is right with the world.”

He also told me that in 38 years of business, his only regret is that he didn’t grow the cheese shop, a tiny mousehole of a store behind the downtown Minneapolis Haskell’s on 9th Avenue.

Indeed, the cheese business has been very good to other wine sellers, including Surdyk’s and Buon Giorno, as well as grocers that sell wine, beer, and other spirits, such as Byerly’s and Lunds.

Now, France 44 is getting back into the game. They closed their cafe in December, co-owner David Anderson says, because while the lunch business was booming, evenings were dead. "We needed both to survive," he explains. Right now, workers are renovating the south side of the store, removing the deli cases and putting up more shelves so that come March, the liquor and wine business can expand.

But the front third of the space will be devoted to cheese — and only cheese. "It’s the only food we’ll carry from now on," Anderson says. "But we’ll go deeper, carrying a much greater selection than we ever have before."

This is good news for the people of Morningside, that pocket where Minneapolis, St. Louis Park, and Edina meet. It’s a little known fact, but they’re nomads, you know. Occasionally, they’ve been to travel as far as St. Paul or Brooklyn Park. And you need sustenance for something like that: Curds in burlap and maybe a yak to ride, in case you get tired along the way.

Sorry I’ve been slow to update, but I wanted to send alert of this upcoming fashion show LATER THIS WEEK (Thursday) that’s titled,
appropriately, Avoid The Grey. The show is being produced by Cliché, a fabulous
Lyn-Lake area boutique. The intent, even more appropriately, is to inject some color
into our beige-um-gray winter palettes, and also to tease us with the promise
of adorable spring fashions, which we in Minnesota never quite get to enjoy the
way inhabitants of other towns do, since our springs are so belated and, uh,
SHORT.

Featured fashions are mostly local: Kjurek Couture, Amanda
Christine Designs, Red Show Clothing Co., Laura Fulk, Belle, and more. I
promise to post some snaps by Friday afternoon.

Also, note that I’m judging this coolio apparel-design
contest from MNfashion, West Photo, and mnartists.org.

Judging by the size of last night’s audience, there should
be tickets left to see Particularly in the Heartland. And if you happen to be
the type who’s a little tired of our pop culture’s present mood (rampant
cynicism peppered with ironic snark)–in other words, if the Colbert Report
doesn’t entirely resonate, or if the plights of Britney Spears don’t exactly
inspire, in you, a sense of schadenfreude–then this show might be something you’d
care to see.

It stands in stark contrast to the Walker’s initial installment of the annual Out There series: last week’s performance by Miguel Gutierrez and, ahem, "the Powerful People," which struck
me as a masturbatory, self-indulgent piece of artless hipster quackery, passed
off (unsuccessfully) as an exercise in shapes and whimsical personalities
emerging from pattern. Last night’s show, rather, made me feel good about my
place in the world. It’s a sprawling, even diffuse, and loosely-connected play. The basic premise is shamelessly ludicrous: A trio of
evangelical kids, living out in the middle of nowhere, lose their parents to a
Kansan twister, but believe the folks have been raptured. (One kid claims
to have seen it happen.) To make a long story short: The ghost of Bobby Kennedy
shows up, as does a female Wall Street type, and the effect, I suppose, is to
turn an inner eye at our blue-state prejudices. For example, there are plenty
of moments when the evangelical kids make ridiculous statements; the
youngest of the kids, a ten-year-old spitfire named Anna, waxes poetic on her
science textbook, which gives plenty of ink to creationism–and, as an audience
member, you’re already rolling your eyes. We’re accustomed to
encountering the occasional ironic and/or hateful usage of red-state stereotypes.
(The conditioned response is to write them off, focusing instead on the play’s other virtues.)
But in this show, predictable leftism is not what unfolds–not in the least.
Nor are we led to believe the death of Bobby Kennedy was the single event that led
this country into its present mess; even he is painted as a complicated
character, with plenty of flaws as well as strengths. The message seems to be
this: There’s plenty of beauty to be discovered if only we allow ourselves to wander
outside our black-and-white thinking. Also, people–even (especially?) evangelicals–are
essentially good.

In one of the show’s most powerful moments, the cast breaks from
the script and invites the audience to ask questions. What became clear to me
then was that these performers are so entrenched in, and care so much for, their
characters that they can even improvise, while staying in character, with
relative ease-and without hitting false notes. Again, I reflexively thought the
cast would get about the sport of lampooning fundamentalists. But instead,
the play’s sincerest moment came to pass: An audience member asked Sarah–the middle
child, a teenager dabbling in lesbianism–what she plans for her future. The response–to
be a better person "and hopefully see my parents again"–startled me. And so,
finally, I abandoned my hardened expectations and began to feel the play for
what it was. It left me feeling lighter, with a renewed sense of optimism. Go
see it.