Grant Hart is a nice guy. You can ask almost anyone in town about him and they'll back me up on this, Grant Hart is nice, and fiercely talented. I may have only met Grant a few times, and those were long ago, but I was as taken with him in 'reality' as I was with his music. Best known for his work as founding member and drummer for band
Hüsker Dü, with
Bob Mould and
Greg Norton, Grant has been a fixture in the Twin Cities music scene for decades. During that time there have been struggles with drugs and health scares that date back to the 80's, so you can imagine my reaction when I saw that First Avenue was hosting a Benefit for Grant Hart! In that way we have of getting possessive of our home town heroes, I jumped right online to find out what was wrong. Grant has had a
bad year, first there was a fire in his family home in late January and then his mother died in late February. Grant himself is fine, so I felt could breathe again, though I bet he'd argue I'm rather loosely defining 'fine' at the moment. In any case, wild horses could not have kept me from
First Avenue on March 12th. Especially since the line-up promised to be interesting, and interesting line-ups are where history is made. This night was no exception.
I got to the Ave, which was less full than I had hoped but had a respectable turn out. The age range of attendees was a bit higher than your average First Ave crowd and I got the impression a lot of those in attendance were old school
Hüsker Dü fans. I thought it was pretty cool that they came out to give love.
I found Jesse upstairs and we giggled a bit about how the audience was clumping together here and there throughout the space. To me it looked very high-school-dance-that-has-been-caught-in-a-time-warp.
Adding to the high school atmosphere, I walked in on Curtiss A in an argument from the stage, mid-set, with a heckler. I wish I could have seen that develop. It takes some 'nads to go after a 60ish year old rocker at a benefit. I mean, really now.
The evening continued with various bands which I meant to say stuff about, some were good, some were new, blah blah blah, but then
Dave Pirner hit the stage and everything around him went a bit fuzzy. At this point I feel I should confess that ever since he spat on a friend of mine while my friend was working at the Ave, I haven't been much of a Pirner fan. But here we both were, supporting good-guy Grant, and I was willing to give him a chance. What followed was an oddly hysterical "Lounge Grunge" act, I dare say the first in recorded history. No other words can encompass what played out before our eyes. First the declaration of love for Grant, well duh, we're with you so far bud. Then the rambling about not knowing what to do with himself for seven WHOLE minutes on a stage he's played dozens of times and where he now stood armed with a guitar. Should he play a song of his? Should he play a song of someone else's? What should he do? What did WE want him to do? I would have thought making that decision before hitting the stage would have been a better idea, but then I don't spit on people either. I kinda wanted to kiss the smart ass who called out "
Black Gold" making Pirner curse, but I was too transfixed by the goings on and could not tear myself away. Finally he started to play a song, not one of his, and one he obviously did not much care for which he made clear by stopping every few words to talk about it. At one point he even asked the camera person who was documenting the show from the dance floor, "What are you doing?" Um, I was just about to ask you the same thing, Dave. And when I was sure things could not get any more painful Grant, apparently having the same notion, came walking on stage. He had actually introduced Pirner so was nearby, but I don't think he planned to be performing at this time. In any case, together and led by Grant who was very emotional they played through a bit of music and then Dave told Grant to his face how much he loved him and the whole evening got to feeling like the overly long toast of a drunk best man at a wedding.
Finally, as Grant was preparing to introduce the final band of the evening, came the the moment that you couldn't help but love. The moment when Dave redeemed himself somewhat. He had realized what he should have done in the first place and sang a song to Grant in memory of Grant's mother. You could have heard a pin drop and I doubt there was an untouched heart in the place. I would love to tell you the name of the song, but unfortunately, with Pirner on stage the whole can't-believe-my-eyes-everything-is-fuzzy-rule still applies. (No, I was not drunk. Not even sort of. Could not risk missing this brilliance.)
During the above happenings, Jesse and I were joined by another gentleman in our discomfort, and together we cringed, laughed and generally mocked the goings on. In that way, it really was like high school. And that would have been enough for an evening's entertainment, but wait! There's more.
The Alarmists, a group of clean cut frat boy looking guys who can, as it turns out, play took the stage. This fact alone brought much of the crowd back to the dance floor where the lead singer's confusion then became apparent.
Looking
out at those assembled, he seemed to
wonder, "What are all our fans parents doing here?" I looked around at the faces in the crowd and it was a fair
question. There was more giggling, some rockin' and a then we were off to a birthday party in a zombie bar. (Too many jokes. Write your own.)
And this, friends, is where we will close for the evening. Wishing Grant Hart better years to come, and much more music to make. <3
A return to high school never looked so good!