Blog

  • The Left Behind

    An earthquake rattled Twin Cities radio this past month. It cracked open the notoriously unstable Clear Channel fault line and took down a legendary monolith, Mick Anselmo, previously thought to be impervious to corporate shock waves.

    Until his firing, Anselmo ran the seven stations Clear Channel owns here in the Twin Cities—Cities 97, KFAN, K102, KTLK, KOOL 108, The Score 690, and KDWB—and oversaw dozens more in the Upper Midwest. Over twenty-five years he had survived a half-dozen or more buy-outs, mergers, drive-by shootings by rival radio gangs, and too many intracorporate IED attacks to number, much less remember.

    Of all the scenarios involving Anselmo’s eventual return (“More Country!,” “Limbaugh and Hannity to WCCO!”) it is his attitude toward so-called “Progressive” talk radio that is worth a comment here. Why? Because as a regional VP for the largest goddamn radio/media empire ever inflicted on the planet (as Anselmo himself would describe it), he saw no upside to testing the appeal of a talk station that didn’t genuflect to Rush Limbaugh; that didn’t regularly ring the bells summoning white male knuckleheads to 24/7 sermonizing on the wisdom and valor of George W. Bush, on the hoax of global climate change, or on the need to seal the Mexican border against the threat of brown-skinned terrorists hell-bent on clipping hedges in San Diego and packing meat in Colorado.

    I’ve covered Anselmo’s years in radio and worked for him for seven long months at KTLK. Because he was successful in a world where every host and format must have a neat one-word definition, I was to him, first and foremost, a “lefty.” One of those guys who doesn’t know how to play for the money very well. The sort of problematic character who would actually flip on a mic and tell Anselmo’s knucklehead audience(s) that contrary to what they were being told by far more famous, far wealthier, and infinitely more lucrative advertising vehicles, weapons of mass destruction have not been found in Iraq, human activity does have something to do with climate change, George W. Bush is a callow sock puppet for Dick Cheney, and by any objective appraisal the French really do have a better standard of living than we do.

    Personally, I always got a kick out of Anselmo. He wore loud guayabera shirts and two-tone loafers around the office and reminded me of that great line about Hollywood producers: “They talk like hippies and do business like gangsters.” (Which is not to say that Anselmo engaged in illegal doings. Rather, shall we say, he practiced a ruthless dedication to positive cash flow.) The way I saw it, he spent more time arranging to get his Escalade detailed than fretting over politics. Radio was all about money. What worked made money. It really was that simple.

    We had a couple of chats about “Progressive” or “lefty” radio. His view was that “all the lefties are over at MPR, there’s really no audience left.” Then, like all radio professionals, he’d make a reference to woebegone Air America and AM 950, the Twin Cities’ hapless “lefty” venue. The fact that Clear Channel has its 40,000-pound gorilla grip on the best, most powerful frequencies from coast to coast, relegating Air America to the tinny, low-power AM band (like AM 950) and leaving it barely able to cover its individual markets, was beside the point. The “lefty” thing doesn’t work.

    Anselmo’s view was that the only future for “lefty” talk was on digital/hi-def radio, the not-yet-fledgling terrestrial competition to satellite. If things worked out, he’d say, he’d think about giving me a shot on hi-def, where I could rant at a fraction of the fifteen people who own such receivers in the Twin Cities.

    My basic view on left-wing radio is that professionals like Anselmo need to understand a fundamental difference in the psychology of conservatives and liberals. As ex-Nixon aide John Dean has described it, conservatives place far greater value on allegiance to authority figures and group unity than liberals do. Lefties basically have an aversion to being preached to. (Most of us know for a fact we’re smarter than anyone preaching at us, even if they do vote like we do.) Moreover, where conservatives eagerly consume staggering amounts of bullshit—“facts” no reasonable person could ever believe—and call it “entertainment,” liberals have almost no patience for wall-to-wall schtick.

    Lefties, I’d try to explain to Anselmo, demand value for time spent listening. Accurate, broadly eclectic information is their highest criterion of value. For that reason alone, left-wing radio that apes the rhetorical gimmickry of Limbaugh and Hannity is doomed to such a pathetic percentage of the available market bottom line that operators like Mick Anselmo will always be more comfortable with Limbaugh-Hannity 3.0 than lefty speechifying.

    Read Brian Lambert’s blog at www.rakemag.com/media
    ; email lambert@rakemag.com

  • The Invasion

    What is it about Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Granted, this was one of the iconic B-movie masterpieces, a spine-tingling and all-too-real allegory of both ’50s conformity and the rise of Communism. But unlike other sci-fi films of the period, the remakes have boasted talent up the wazoo. The ’70s version brought acclaimed director Philip Kaufman onboard with Donald Sutherland (who was considered an A-list actor at the time).

    This latest version, simply titled The Invasion, is set in the present day and helmed by German director Oliver Hirschbiegel (Best Foreign Language Film nominee for The Downfall) and stars Oscar-winning actress Nicole Kidman and the new Bond, Daniel Craig, to boot. It could make for a dynamite drive-in feature and a thought-provoking night out.

  • Song of the South

    Disney’s long-hidden classic Song of the South hasn’t been seen in theaters (or on DVD) since its theatrical rerelease in 1986. If you’ll recall, this is the simple tale of a white boy who goes to visit his grandma’s plantation in the post-Civil War South while his folks consider splitting up. There, he is watched over by the lovable Uncle Remus and a covey of annoying little songbirds singing “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah.” Part animated, part live action, arguably racist, and definitely patronizing, Song is filled with fabulous animation and crack storytelling—especially in the Tar Baby sequence. Disney’s suppression of the film raises myriad questions, not the least of which is the fact that the film’s African-American stars have, in the ensuing controversy, seen their hard work vanish from the cinematic landscape. 412 14th Ave. S.E., Minneapolis; 612-362-0437; www.dinkytowner.com

  • Thomas Maltman

    Yeah, we know, that’s three plugs for Magers and Quinn events for August (and there’s another one to come), but what can we say? The competition is generally a bit tardy on their press releases, the Uptown behemoth just keeps getting bigger and better, and this month in particular the folks at M&Q have put together a stellar lineup of author appearances. The Night Birds, Thomas Maltman’s debut, is already garnering advance raves from the likes of Publishers Weekly and Booklist. Set in nineteenth-century Minnesota, The Night Birds is a historical novel that spans the Sioux uprisings of 1862 and the James-Younger gang’s reign of mayhem in the 1870s, and is distinguished by both realism and truly stylish storytelling. 612-822-4611; www.magersandquinn.com

  • Charles Baxter

    With Burning Down the House (1997), a collection of essays on writing, Charles Baxter became a fixture, by proxy, in fiction workshops everywhere. In his new book, The Art of Subtext: Beyond Plot (Graywolf Press), Baxter goes on to explore the unwritten aspects of writing. He sets out to prove that, in fiction, “What is displayed evokes what is not displayed, like a party where the guests discuss, at length, those who are not in attendance.” Remarkably (but just as expected) Baxter does so with eloquence and conviction, using literary reference and personal anecdote to mine the meanings hidden in prose, and to cement his reputation as a guru of contemporary fiction. 612-822-4611; www.magersandquinn.com

  • Nona Caspers

    A sheepish admission: I’m often a little surprised when I come across a great story or writer from Minnesota. This seems to be a relatively common manifestation of Midwestern insecurity; it’s hard-wired in many of us to think that the worthiest art can only be a product of someplace else. But Nona Caspers deftly turns this odd, slightly self-hating bias on its head. Now a creative writing professor in San Francisco, Caspers is originally from rural Minnesota. Read her collection of short stories, Heavier Than Air (winner of the 2005 Grace Paley Prize for Short Fiction), and in the space of an afternoon it’s possible to get lost in lives that are atypical yet wholly believable. “Country Girls,” for instance, is about a cowbone-painting fourteen-year-old girl who harbors illicit desires on a farm north of Melrose, Minnnesota. In “The EE Cry,” a couple of fad-dieters binge on desserts at Cafe Latté in St. Paul (they met at a weight-loss clinic in Maplewood). And somehow this is all just as fascinating as if it were happening anywhere else. 3032 Hennepin Ave., Minneapolis; 612-822-4611; www.magersandquinn.com

  • Rupert Thomson, Death of a Murderer

    For my money Rupert Thomson is one of the most adventurous and consistently dazzling writers working today. He’s also criminally underrated (and largely unknown) in the United States. His 1996 novel, The Insult, featured one of the great untrustworthy narrators in recent memory: a man, blinded by a bullet to the head, who suffers from a rare neurological condition that convinces him that he can still see. The result was a sort of surreal noir in which apparent delusions seemed very real and very spooky.

    His latest work, Death of a Murderer, features a policeman haunted by the ghost of a notorious serial murderer, and it’s already being hailed by British reviewers as Thomson’s masterpiece.

  • B.B. King/Al Green/Etta James

    With three permanent but aging legends on the same bill, the only potential drawback to this gig is the possibility that the headliners will give in to the temptation to go through the motions and bask in each other’s well-deserved glory. But even if they do, it will still be worth the dough. Many try, but nobody else can quite find the notes that B.B. is able to sting out of Lucille. Many try, but nobody simultaneously sings to Lord and Lover with the heartfelt splendor of Al Green. And many try, but nobody can deliver an R-rated show for a PG-audience (or an X-rated show for an R-audience) with as much flair and humor as vocalist Etta James, and yet still plant the essence of blues and soul in most every tune. 651-989-5151; www.mnstatefair.org

  • Kelly Willis

    Translated From Love, Willis’s first CD in five years (Christmas collections don’t count), shrewdly acknowledges that after four kids and five previous discs, she’s too shiny for cultdom and too prickly for stardom, and aims to please nobody but herself. “I Must Be Lucky” would go platinum if you told C&W jocks it was by Shania Twain. There are also at least a couple of guilty pleasures for classic rockers and a tearjerker or two worthy of Bonnie Raitt or Lucinda Williams. Whether she’s straddling or hop-scotching genres, Willis retains that angelic catch in her voice, hires ace musicians for accompaniment, and eliminates self-consciousness from your listening experience. But she gives herself away by butchering the David Bowie/Iggy Pop number, “Success.” 318 First Ave. N., Minneapolis; 612-338-8100; www.finelinemusic.com

  • The Rentals

    When bassist Matt Sharp left Weezer, the group he cofounded, in 1998, he traded in stardom for something a bit more obscure. Listening to The Rentals (Sharp’s main project since the mid-’90s), there’s a sense that their songs are targeted at the mainstream, yet the band itself tends toward shyness. Since their 1995 single “Friends of P,” The Rentals’ tunes have been delightfully poppy, but still somehow enigmatic—uplifting melodies pinned down by mournful lyrics. Their new album, The Last Life EP, builds on their past work, offering densely layered (think synthesizers, synthesizers, and more synthesizers) yet delightfully harmonic songs. Expect an all-out rock performance, even though several of the band members are prone to wear thick, face-obscuring glasses. 612-332-1775; www.first-avenue.com