-
- JIM WALSH POP MUSIC CRITIC
-
- It was just before midnight Monday, and the
crowd at the 400 Bar on the
- West Bank of Minneapolis numbered exactly 20
-- and that includes the
- bartenders, soundman and the musicians
onstage.
- One of those musicians, Dave
Pirner, has sung in front of hundreds of
- thousands of people at a time. As the guiding
light behind Soul Asylum,
- Pirner has performed on the White House lawn
and to national television
- audiences. He has appeared on the cover of
Rolling Stone magazine,
- toured the world over and sold millions of
records.
- Another one of those musicians, Mason
Jennings, has had trouble selling
- 500 copies of his self-produced, self-released
debut CD. He is one of
- the brightest new songwriters in the Twin
Cities, but in these days of
- fractured and/or unadventurous club-goers,
he's struggling to find an
- audience.
- This night, however, the two songwriters --
the seasoned elder and the
- young buck -- found equal ground on the 400
stage, as Pirner joined the
- Jennings band for an unannounced three-song
set.
- The greater part of the evening was given to
Jennings who, along with
- his ace band (bassist/vocalist Robert Skoro
and drummer Chris Strock),
- performed two wonderful sets of his own
material, including
- ``Butterfly,'' ``California,'' ``Nothing'' and
``Godless.'' The spare,
- acoustic-framed rock trio was more than
holding its own with the small
- but attentive audience when 400 Bar owner Bill
Sullivan yelled from the
- front bar, ``Hey, Mason! Mind if my friend
plays a few with you guys?''
- Jennings glanced over to see Pirner sitting at
the bar, and waved his
- consent. A few minutes later, when Pirner
ambled onstage with his
- acoustic guitar, it was the first time the
musicians had ever met, let
- alone played together. What happened next was
a marvelous testament to
- the spirit of risk-taking, musical spontaneity
and to the riches that
- can be had only from trolling clubs, away from
the numbers.
- The setting was so intimate, barflies could
hear Pirner explaining the
- chord changes and arrangements to the young
band, who appeared
- alternately nervous, cocksure and blown away.
They wobbled through a
- version of TLC's ``Waterfalls,'' which lurched
at first, then found an
- easy groove. That was followed by a subdued
version of Soul Asylum's
- ``To My Own Devices,'' with Jennings adding
flamenco-flavored classical
- guitar touches.
- ``I feel like I'm from out of town, and I just
found a kick-ass pickup
- band,'' cracked Pirner, who had just returned
from a promotional radio
- and television tour, and was in town briefly
before Soul Asylum left
- Wednesday for the Southern leg of their most
recent tour.
- ``This one is pretty emotional for me, so it
might be tough,'' said
- Pirner, before going into Sinead O'Connor's
``To Mother You.'' Pirner's
- obvious affection for the song, coupled with
the band's unfamiliarity
- with it, made for a fascinating dynamic:
Everybody in the pub inhaled,
- wondering if the ad-hoc group would make it
through the song. Would
- Pirner give up in frustration? Would the young
trio rise to the
- occasion?
- In the end, the song soared, and the room
pitched a bit. And even though
- the crowd was smaller than what any
respectable street busker attracts,
- Pirner, ever the singer/showman swept away by
the moment, emoted his way
- through O'Connor's stately, undiscovered gem
like his life depended on
- it. When it was done, he thanked the trio, got
off-stage to the sound of
- a few hands clapping and, with a squirrelly
smirk, said, ``Thanks, you
- guys.''
- Jennings' crew finished the night with two
songs, and everybody retired
- to the bar.
- In a recent interview, Jennings said, ``You've
got to talk to the people
- you're singing to. There's a boundary between
you and the singer, and
- I'm trying to get rid of that boundary.''
- Monday night at the 400 Bar, the boundary
between the audience and the
- singer was razed, shot, demolished. Just ask
those who were there. All
- 20 of them.