“Oh my god, James Blake.
“Oh my god.
Review by Sarah Heuer, photos by Jay Gabler.
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Arts Orbit Radar! Art-a-Whirl and more, including a roundup of this week’s arts news.
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1. Tom Waits. Fat chance of ever seeing this guy, unless I’m willing to travel out of state or unless he goes broke and needs some quick cash—which he doesn’t seem dumb enough to do.
2. Talking Heads. This could happen only conceivably, under as-yet-unknown circumstances; Tina Weymouth and David Byrne kind of hate each other (via longstanding sexual tension), and it was all they could do to keep it together for their Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction. I have seen Byrne solo a few times though, and he’s great on his own.
3. Tilly and the Wall. I just need to be attentive, and I should be able to make this happen. They’re still on good terms, recording and touring together.
4. The Detroit Cobras. Oh, didn’t I mention why I’m writing this post? Because I’m going to see these guys (and girls) at the Varsity next month! They’ve played in Minneapolis about eight million times, and it’s just been bad luck that I’ve never made it out to see them.
5. Teenage Fanclub. Just missed these guys at First Ave. Come on, Gabler! Get your act together.
6. The Replacements. This ain’t likely happening…just seeing Paul Westerberg is tricky enough these days. Suppose I should really go see Tommy Stinson at First Ave on Friday.
7. The New Pornographers. Hoping to see this lot at Somerset’s new Sound Town festival in August.
8. Daniel Lanois. One of my all-time favorite producers, and a great solo artist in his own right. He was at the Cedar not so long ago. Come on, Gabler!
9. Arcade Fire. Missed ‘em at Roy Wilkins last year. Next time!
10. Beirut. Another one that should be just a matter of time. Eyes on the prize, eyes on the prize.
Two takes on Bedlam Theatre’s 10x10 Fest:
“Balancing empathetic characters with broad, caricatured comedy is the impossible mountain that mainstream movies try to climb again and again. It’s an easier balance to maintain in indie comedies that wring laughs from the absurdity of real life than in people-pleasing studio films that aren’t content unless a grown woman shits her pants. There are really two different movies stuffed into Bridesmaids: a subtle, gritty character study that makes knowing reference to the little moments that get under your skin and a Farrelly Brothers goofball comedy where fat girls make sex tapes of themselves feeding sandwiches to funny-looking men.”
“It wasn’t my plan to be writing this blog entry: I was planning to be at the Capri Theater in North Minneapolis, watching Bedlam Theatre’s 10x10 Fest. But my car died (permanently) this week, so I’m getting around largely via bike until I find an affordable replacement. Just before 7 p.m. Wednesday night, I made it a few blocks up Broadway onto the Northside before deciding that biking home alone through that neighborhood at 11 p.m. was not something I thought it would be a good idea to do.
“As I biked back to my house in Loring Heights, I thought about a lot of things.”
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