Journal janeowit's Journal: Cheapo, Boneclouds, and Mike Nestman is incompetent. 4
As the setting of several my journal entries, you probably know that I like hanging out at Cheapo. The slogan says it best; it is the last authentic music store. I can't imagine looking forward to browsing through the aisles at a Best Buy, or wherever people buy cds anymore. I think that a store like that might consider what I and other Cheapo devotees do as loitering. Plus those chain stores won't let us stay until midnight, 365 days of the year, no way. And when I go, I go with my High Fidelity fantasies, and always try to look my best and flirt with the employees. And have found them exceedingly knowledgeable and helpful, and they all have that intangible connection to the music that I do. And I have a crush on all of them. And I came across an article in the Star Tribune that proves to you all that the Cheapo scene is worthy of newsprint.
"It's Cheapo and it's popular
Uptown Saturday night, crowds are heavy, parking tight. And a microcosm of the scene can be found in an unlikely venue.
Randy and Matthew Miranda, Star Tribune
April 07, 2006
Making the scene on a Saturday night in Uptown Minneapolis without dropping big bucks in a trendy restaurant, drinking in a stuffed-to-the-walls nightclub or taking in the latest art film can be a challenge.
But it can be done, with eclectic music, room to roam and good company to boot -- all at Cheapo Music.
For the uninitiated, Cheapo is a warehouse-sized haven of mostly used music and movies, the perfect alternative to a traditional, expensive night out. It's also a great place to soak up musical and social culture with your 16-year-old son -- even if you do come from somewhat different generational perspectives.
The customers
Matthew: You can meet all kinds here. But what makes Cheapo somewhat unique is customers can be as helpful as the staff. For instance, that twentysomething in a black hoodie and blue jeans, sporting a day's stubble. He was curious about the quality of the used CDs. I assured him that I have never had a problem. He took my advice and made the purchase. I win.
Randy: Hey, even with your punky little Mohawk, you're pretty approachable. For me, the 50 or so customers were either browsers or purchasers. Some were solo, very into the search, while others gravitated to various sections in pods, sharing a mutual interest and a night out. And the crowd never waned; it just kept changing over.
The music
M: I'm more the solo figure. Sometimes when I'm looking, I slap on headphones and listen to my own playlist. However, indie-rock band Pavement's "Slanted and Enchanted" was playing over the store's speakers, and the repetitive clicking of CD case against CD case added the perfect dissonance. Then there's always the listening stations. The guy in his early 30s, dreadlocks and goatee, dancing enthusiastically and clapping his hands, was really getting into what he was listening to.
R: He was definitely in his own little musical world. I'm into Pavement, but, as usual, I headed for the jazz/classical section. Surrounded by plexiglass, it was an aural oasis. And where else can you listen in on a couple having a spirited debate about the merits of jazz fusion? Oh, date night at Cheapo.
The fashions
M: And that's the great thing, you see a little of everything here. Couldn't help but notice the teenager, probably 17 or 18. He was decked out in the uniform of a suburban hipster -- skateboard name-brand clothes, Vans classics and shaggy hair that's cut to look roguish, but not dirty. He was wearing too much cologne, and obviously a novice at shopping here.
R: No doubt, people-watching can be almost as interesting as bopping to Coltrane at 10:30 on Saturday night. I got a kick out of the two young guys filling up those cute little baskets they have throughout the store. One was ready to go out, with his tailored shirt, baggy but refined pants and retro platform shoes. The other was into comfortable casual, in his wind pants and long, baggy sweatshirt. And he had some awesome 'rows. They were enjoying the shopping as well as each other. Obviously, both already considered themselves to be out on the town.
The basement:
M: I don't recall seeing those guys downstairs. I just love when that musty smell of old vinyl albums reaches my nose as I make my way down the stairs. It's the exclusive domain of audiophiles. Like the guy in his mid-20s, dressed in a fashion that screams club hopper. He was browsing through the electronica section. Probably a DJ.
R: I was a little surprised by how many people of different ages I saw in the basement. There was the woman looking for treasures in the racks of cassette tapes and the older guy looking for a Tommy Sands LP .
But my favorite was the gangly rocker asking the clerk "when did you get this," then exclaiming, "I have been looking for this for years." There was no doubt that the copy of "Twisted and Ancient" by the KLF had found a new home.
The search:
M: Yes, he definitely scored. Me, I'm one of those music snobs. I search incessantly through the racks for that one perfect purchase. However, each person has their own style: Some speed through rack after rack with reckless abandon. Some take their time, analyzing each CD. Some simply come in, locate the CD they want and buy it. For me, it's not so much about the destination, but about the journey.
R: Many people's approaches seemed guided by mood. I spent some time perusing the imaginatively labeled movie categories: Bikers; Good Cop, Bad Cop; Nukes; Pirates; Dragons; Underwater; Mad Scientists and listening in on a debate about Disney's seven-year reissue policy. You're right. It's not necessarily about the purchase, but enjoying the hunt."
Anyways, I was there last night to pick up Mason Jennings' "Boneclouds", and The Cardinal Sin's "Hurry Up and Wait" (which according to the sticker on the wrapping is for fans of The Replacements and Alkaline Trio). I normally go to St. Paul location, because compared to the one-city block warehouse monstrosity of the Uptown location, I find it less intimidating. Also the St. Paul location seems to have more used local cds and it has a large free parking lot, something that is all but extinct in Uptown. But I work in Uptown, so I found myself there. I also grabbed Letter's to Cleo's "Wholesale Meats and Fish" for a bargain $4.95, having only owned it in cassette form. And the nice man who checked me out (tee hee) could not have been more excited to see that cd, "I haven't thought about this band in years, damn they rocked though." I agreed, and explained that I have been going through a bunch of old cds to put on my ipod. "Middle School Gold", he called it, and then we had a long conversation about Weezer's blue album, and how it rocked our 12-year-old worlds and still manages to sound so good today. Let's just say it's been in heavy rotation for the past few weeks since I rediscovered it. So in conclusion, I really want to get a job there.
As for "Boneclouds", I'm torn. It took me a while to put my finger on it, but the thing that sets this cd apart from everything else he as done is the obvious production that went into it. It just has a different vibe, and it sounds as if he was too far away from the microphone or something. There are vocal effects, and he doesn't need vocal effects! Thankfully there are several songs that strip away the layers of effects and instrumentation and give listeners the Mason we know and love. "If You Ain't Got Love" is rambling narrative love song to his wife and son, "Life has no limit if you're not afraid to get in it. Oh, baby, I jumped to you. Since then there's nothing I can't do. I'm never going to give you up. What do you got if you ain't got love? Someday, someday soon you and I will both be gone. Lately I can't help but think that the love we feel will live on." It's my favorite so far. Except maybe for "Jesus Are You Real". That song is quiet and contemplative and deep, and perfection. And I melt when he pronounces the word heart with that inexplicable accent that can't be defined by his cities of residence. I don't know if I like the new direction Mason Jennings is heading in, but I am in so in love with the old Mason Jennings that I will happily follow.
While enjoying the new cd I went to check to see if he was playing anywhere before his big cd release show on June 24, and I got sidetracked by a Q&A section on his website. Since those are usually funny or insightful, I head on over. And I am amazed by the first question.
"Mike Nestman from Bountiful, UT asks...
I'm going to play one of your songs at my bro's wedding and I was curious if you could tell me a bit about the background and inspiration for your song "Ballad of Paul and Sheila". That would be awesome, thanks"
I love this song. A lot. And I am amazed at the stupidity of the question. You probably haven't heard the song, but Mike has. So let's do a little experiment to see if we can possibly come up the answer to this without bothering the songwriter. I think the answer is right here in the lyrics, so let's take a look at the first verse:
"October morning, little plane, on the forest floor. Up on the TV between a rerun and another war. Here in a hotel trying to make some sense of this. 2000 miles from my family and Minneapolis."
Ok, pretty simple, let's use google and see what we can find. Searching with the combination of the words October, plane, and crash, our first few hits lead us right to subject of the song, they are news stories about the October 25th small plane crash that killed Paul and Sheila Wellstone and others. And that was even ignoring the song title, if you add the names Paul and Sheila; every link leads you to the story. We also want to know the inspiration for the song, why Mason Jennings would right a song about this mysterious Paul, let's listen to the chorus for a clue:
"Hey Senator I want to say all the things you fought for did not die here today. Hey Senator, I'm gong to go all things I can to live my lie more like you lived." That's not helpful at all, it doesn't almost explicitly say that Mason admired this politician and he hopes that his legacy will live on after his death.
I don't think I'm being overly demanding here. I am not saying that Mike Nestman should remember the exact moment he heard that Senator Wellstone died 11 days before the election. I'm not saying that he should even know about the liberal legacy that our beloved Senator Welfare left behind. Or how he was the only senator up for reelection to vote against the war, even though he was sure it would cost him the election. Or how nice he was to every person he met, and how he listened to a Wisconsin resident still too young to vote like every word out of my mouth was something he was going to remember. I'm just saying that he should have been able to find the "background and inspiration" by himself. Am I asking too much?
Hey! (Score:2)
Hey, a band I've actually heard of, and like a bit. Save Ferris, too. (Both featured in "10 things I hate about you", if one if curious.)
and then we had a long conversation about Weezer's blue album, and how it rocked our 12-year-old worlds
OK, now I can't talk to you anymore....
Re:Hey! (Score:1)
Or is it that you aren't familiar with the self-titled cd that is home to the hit singles "Undone (Sweater Song)", "Buddy Holly", and "Say it Ain't So" ?
Re:Hey! (Score:2)
Something else to do (Score:1)