concert memoirs pt. 46 - urban guerrillas

Urban Guerrillas (Minneapolis band)

This is it. The last installment of my concert memoirs. I'm ending it with the band I had seen the most of any band I've ever seen, the Urban Guerrillas.

The Urban Guerrillas are among the most local of all the local bands I've seen. I mean that they didn't get much national attention. I know they toured around the States, but I think they were more of a Twin Cities phenomenon. But that doesn't mean they weren't any good. (I have a memory of them being named Best New Band in the City Pages' Best of the Twin Cities at some point in the 80s, but I can't confirm it.)

The band photo (above) comes from the cover of their second album, 'The Attack of the Pink Heat Seeking Moisture Missiles'. (The title was lifted from a Robin Williams' bit.) I had to scan the album cover, because I just can't find any images of the band anywhere online. So, I scanned the cover and put this image together. I made sure to include the picture of Pres. Reagan. I came to think of him as sort of an honorary member of the band. Him and his running mate... Ronald McDonald!

This is the custom art card that came with the cassette of one of the band's live shows at First Avenue. The cassette is titled 'Armenian Heat Wave Dance Party' and it was a very limited release.

Playing a fun mixture of punk, reggae, ska, blues, and I don't know what else (it's so hard to categorize these guys), their shows were always entertaining. They had a core of fans that would show up for most shows and have the best time. It was at the Urban Guerrilla shows that John and I learned how to properly slam dance.

Larry Sahagian was the focal point of the band and he was a good front man. He really enjoyed playing and partying. He would often invite audience members to the after parties, wherever they were. John and I never went to any.

Their songs were often times political and sexual. Not always at the same time. Once they were booked to play a dance at a local high school and they stirred a bit of controversy. Their lyrics could be very graphic and when Larry started singing about four-lettering his mother the school principal pulled the plug. The whole incident got a quite a bit of local news attention. Those naughty boys!

There was also an occurrence common to many of the Urban Guerrillas' shows. Sahagian was never too worried about presenting the bisexual side of his nature during the shows. (I don't know if Larry is gay, bi or straight and I don't care. His stage persona suggested he was bi.) He wasn't on the make for the girls and boys at the shows, he just had that personality. This personality would sometimes make an audience member or two a little uncomfortable. Sometimes Larry would be called "fag" or some such. Larry would usually turn it around on these guys. He'd say, "Does that mean you want to sleep with me?"

As I said, I've seen them many times in many places. Here are a few highlights...

1) Music Island, St. Paul

In St. Paul there used to be a nightclub called Music Island. It was a pretty lame club and it is no more. It became a Best Buy or something.

One night they had the Guerrillas play. I don't think the Guerrillas were the sort of band they normally booked, because they seemed completely unprepared for the slam dancing that took place at the show. So, when the punkish fans began slam dancing, the bouncers thought it was a fight and they went in to break it up. Larry tried to explain that the fans weren't fighting, they were dancing. I remember fans yelling at the bouncers about the same thing. But I think the bouncers won, I can't remember for sure.

2) Duffy's (?), Minneapolis

I don't remember if it was Duffy's, but I'm sure it was the club that became Norma Jean's. This show was the last concert at the club before it was to shut down and then reopened as Norma Jean's, that's what I remember.

John and I headed down there and met up with some of my art school buddies to take in this last show at the club. The Guerrillas were entertaining as always. However, I think the turnout was pretty small.

The atmosphere was loose as it most always is at a Urban Guerrillas concert. That's just the way the band liked it. Larry wanted to get high, so he asked if anyone had some pot. Of course, someone did. They brought it up to him, but Larry didn't want to get the club in trouble so he went outside to smoke it.

There was an outdoor access near the stage, so he took the joint and his microphone outside. The band continued to play while Larry toked away. He would give us the play-by-play and, in his languid manner, would say, "I'm getting high now."

Larry was quite the showman.

3) The Cabooze, Minneapolis

John and I had seen these guys many, many times at the Cabooze. This night, however, would be a little out of the ordinary. Something would go wrong.

I don't recall how it started, but an argument broke out between Larry Sagahian and the drummer, John Hewitt, that brought the show to a halt. John was not happy. Words were exchanged and he got up from behind the drums and walked out of the club. I can still picture him walking away angrily.

Now drummerless, the band tried to carry on with the rest of the show, but the air had been sucked out of the room. The argument was pretty entertaining, though.

4) First Avenue, Minneapolis

A little background on me is needed for this part. I was never much of a ladies' man. They just seemed to only want to be friends. I didn't ever really try either, so I was mostly to blame.

I would get a little morose from time to time, lamenting on my loneliness. And one particular night in my art school years, I went out to First Avenue with several of my friends from school. It wasn't a concert night, so I wasn't expecting a show.

While hanging out with my art school friends that night, I noticed that I was the only single of the group. I was the fifth wheel, again! This sent me into a bit of a pity party and I began to mope around a bit. I withdrew from my friends and began to wander around the club.

Then the unexpected happened. The screen over the stage began to lift and there they were, the Urban Guerrillas! I had no idea they'd be there. I was thrilled and immediately took to the dance floor.

I danced and danced and I didn't feel so alone anymore. I even joined in when Larry had everyone lay on the floor. It was one of only two or three times I'd actually laid on the floor at First Avenue.

It turned into a good night.

5) Brian's Warehouse Loft, St. Paul

Finally, my favorite concert memory of the Urban Guerrillas. It took place at a private party in a warehouse in St. Paul.

Brian was a fellow art student and he had some really good parties at his place. He usually managed to get a big role of butcher paper for the party goers to doodle on. That was always fun to do and it was great when Brian would bring the results to school. We were a clever bunch of doodlers.

For one party, Brian booked the Guerrillas. It was a blast. Dancing right there with the band. They played well into the night and we all had a great time. Well, I did, at least.

"Four o'clock! Stop the bus! Get out in the street and jam!!"




There you have it. The series has now come to an end. I started it nearly a year ago and it has been good to walk through my memories. I wish I had kept a concert journal, but I'm glad for what I can remember.

A short list of bands I've seen, but didn't cover in the series. I just don't have enough memory of the shows:

The Phones
Idiot Savant
TVBC
The Screaming Tribesmen
Man-Sized Action
The Whole Lotta Loves

There have been others, I just can't remember them.

I hope you've enjoyed this series and that it may have sparked a memory or two for you.

concert memoirs pt. 43 - the guess who & don williams

The Guess Who at the Cabooze with John, some other high school friends and lots of beer.

How embarrassing this night was. It's the only concert at which I've ever been so drunk. After this night, John took to referring to The Guess Who as my favorite band. It isn't, but I sure acted that night as if it was.

It was sometime during the summer after my first year of art school. I had adopted some of the "arty punk" fashion and style (whatever they were) and John and I had started getting into the indie music scene. This show was more for the guys we went with. They were more "normal" and into the mainstream scene. They thought John and I had gotten a little weird, but we were still cool.

The Cabooze was hosting these Canadian has beens. (Just look at that picture. The picture is more recent, but that's pretty much what they were like when we saw them.) It was two-for-one night and, for some reason, the guys kept giving me their extra beer. And I was soaking them up. By the time the band played, I was pretty lit.

I'm not sure how many were original members, but it appears that Burton Cummings was not involved. They played their hits and I rocked out like this was the greatest band ever. I had learned to appreciate the fun to be had while slam dancing, but, because of my state of inebriation, I had forgotten that The Guess Who didn't play the kind of music that lended itself to slam dancing. Nor would the audience appreciate my choice of dance.

Not that I was in full skank or anything. I wasn't flinging myself around, but I wasn't very careful about bumping into the people next to me. I wasn't being very violent, but I was a getting a little out of hand.

At one point, two fellows standing behind me pulled me aside and told me to settle down. Actually, they were pretty cool about it and I immediately complied. John also told me to knock it off. He didn't feel like getting beat because his friend was being a moron.

I settled down and watched the rest of the show when something interesting happened. The band was closing their set with their song 'Share The Land'. The song contains the lyric, "Shake your hand/Share the land". As they get toward the end of the song, they sing that part a cappella and reach out to the crowd to shake hands. Press the flesh. Give the audience a thrill.

Guess who (no pun intended) came climbing over our backs, clambering through the crowd to get their chance to shake the band's hands. Uh huh. It was the same two fellows who dressed me down for my inconsiderate behavior. "Do as we say! Not as we do!"

At least, we didn't get beat up that night.

Don Williams (country music legend)

My wife, Amy, indulged me on this one. I don't think she's much of a country music fan, but I think Don Williams is great. Especially his earlier material. In the 1970s, he was big, but when Amy and I saw him in 2002 he was playing smaller clubs and casinos. He retired from touring in 2006.

Despite losing his audience to the crap country of Garth Brooks and Toby Keith, Don still could put on a terrific show. He played his crowd pleasers and mixed in a new song or two. His band played well and he still had the pipes.

Amy and I sat at a table at the back of the room, but we still had a good view of the stage. Don was so smooth. He sat and sang his best tunes and the audience loved him.

He had this easy manner to his stage presence. And he kept thanking the crowd for being so kind. His deep voice would smoothly roll out, "Oooh, you're sooo nice. You are sooo kind. Aren't you folks just something?"

He was being sincere. He really enjoyed playing for an audience.

I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Don's songs of romance had me looking at Amy and being so thankful and in love, there was some sort of salty discharge coming from my eye.

Hmmm, what was that salty discharge?

concert memoirs pt. 41 - fuckin' shit biscuits & the suburbs

Fuckin' Shit Biscuits (Minneapolis band)

With a name like Fuckin' Shit Biscuits these guys must be good, right? Well, it depends on what you mean by "good". Were they great musicians? No. Did they have great lyrics? I couldn't tell you. Were they fun to watch? Absolutely!

John and I loved it when these guys what make an occasional cameo appearance on Club Degenerate nights at First Avenue. Their music was a bunch of noisy crap, but their attitude was fantastic. They were a punk "jam" band (at least that how they were described online in the only listing I could find about them) that wasn't as concerned with making music as with making noise.

I know I have said that John and I don't do audience participation, but the Biscuits were different. Their idea of audience participation consisted mainly of having the audience throw beer at them. They would have the front of the stage lined up with plastic cups filled with beer as they began to play. The lead "shouter" would announce, "Free beer! Free beer!" The crowd would advance and grab a cup, drink a gulp or two, then throw the remainder at the band. Halfway through their first number, the band would be soaked with beer.

John claims he was the first audience member to throw a beer, thus setting off the tradition. He might have been first, but it was so long ago I can't remember.

We'd seen them several times at First Avenue. Always threw beer, sometimes paper airplanes and, once, raw fish. The raw fish was brought out by the band themselves. They threw it out to the crowd, so we threw it right back at them.

During one of their cameos, they gave out cassettes of their live performance and John managed to nab one. Another time they threw out guitar picks. I snagged one and discovered it had the words "Shit Biscuit" printed on it. I still have it.

They made a horrendous noise, but put on a good show.

A couple notes about the band photograph.

First is the circled audience member. That is very likely my friend, John. John and I both remember being at that particular show and it sure does look like him.

Second, John pointed out something interesting about the photograph. There appears to be no women in the audience. I can't spot any, can you?. It's all men. John said of this, "Seems strange having a bunch of dudes watching dudes in loin cloths."

Strange indeed.

The Suburbs (Minneapolis band)

I had intended to see the 'Burbs at First Avenue in July or August of 1984, but the event was sold out. So, my first time seeing the band and my first time entering the legendary Minneapolis nightclub would have to wait.

My inaugural visit to First Avenue would happen a month or two later (The Replacements, 9/5/84). I would see The Suburbs a year or two later at the Cabooze. This would be the only time I would see this band.

The Cabooze is an odd sort of club. It's located right next door to a biker bar called Whiskey Junction, and the two bars share an outdoor patio area. The layout of the Cabooze is long and narrow, with a back section that has two levels of pool tables and a bar.

The stage area is pretty cramped. The ceiling is somewhat low and from the stage the metal rafters are easily accessible. A fact I will refer to later. The stage itself is pretty small, but they managed to get the five member band on it.

It was a packed house for the band. They were already long established local legends and were starting to get real national attention. They were about to sign to a major label, when John and I saw them play.

Tight and highly energetic, they kept the joint jumping. And Beej took advantage of the metal rafters to swing himself around. I seem to recall him swinging over to stand on the bar and play there for a while.

It's a shame the band broke up just before they had a chance to break the national scene.

Incidentally, in 1996 I interviewed for the job of production artist at the failing Minneapolis t-shirt printing shop, Cold Side Silkscreening. (Seriously, they're in desperate need of business. If you need t-shirts printed get in contact with them. www.coldside.com ) During the process, it came down to two candidates; me and Bruce Allen, former guitarist for The Suburbs.

Bruce was quite the talented graphic artist, but, at the time anyway, he was also bursting with nervous energy. Bruce's edginess was a concern for the nearly comatose art directer who would be working closely with whichever of the two candidates they picked.

Apparently, I was the calmer of the two. I also possessed considerable graphic arts talents, so I was hired.

Sorry, Bruce.

concert memoirs pt. 39 - the mighty mofos & breaking circus

Now that I have run out of ticket stubs, I'll turn my memory machine to the shows for which I have no ticket stub and, therefore, I do not know the dates. It's most likely that I never received a ticket stub for these shows, because I was pretty good about hanging onto them. Several of these shows were at the Cabooze, a Minneapolis club that didn't hand back ticket stubs for their shows.

I'll relate stories about acts such as The Mighty Mofos, Big Black, The Three Johns and others. One band, the Urban Guerrillas will have several shows to talk about because I had see them the most of any band I've seen play. I will even tell you about the show at which I most embarrassed myself. It was The Guess Who at the Cabooze. I know, The Guess Who, pretty sad, huh?

This section won't be nearly as long as the ticket memories. So, let's get started...


The Mighty Mofos (Minneapolis band)

John and I had seen this band a few times. It seems as though they opened for every band we saw at the Cabooze. Of course, they didn't. It just seems that way.

Formerly know as The Hypstrz, The Mighty Mofos were a pretty straight forward rock 'n' roll bar band. Very high energy with some excellent guitar work by Ernie Batson. Ernie's brother, Bill, handled the lead vocals and had that commanding stage presence that most bands would want in their lead singers.

Bill also worked at First Avenue setting up the stage in the 7th St. Entry and running sound. Because of Bill's working there and John and I frequently hanging out at the disco, we got to the point where we would be recognized by Bill. He'd see us and give us the up nod. Pretty cool.

So, there was one show at the Cabooze with The Mofos playing and John and I were right up front. Kind of leaning against the stage, trying to look hip. Bill was rockin' and he was trying to get a little audience participation going. He was trying to get the crowd to clap along with the beat. (The Mofos must have been opening, because most people don't do much for the opening act. They tend to stand back and wait for the headliner.) Bill wasn't having much luck and it didn't improve when he approached us.

He saw us and gave us the up nod, but then he came over doing some rhythmic hand clapping. He was giving us a little "come on, fellas!" look, but we just stood there. Sorry, Bill. We don't do audience participation.

We were just too cool.

Breaking Circus (Minneapolis band via Chicago)

Breaking Circus started out in Chicago, but Steve Bjorklund, the guitarist and singer, moved to Minneapolis in 1986. As best I can remember, the first time John and I saw them they were using a drum machine, but later the bassist and drummer from another local band, Rifle Sport, were added to the line-up. I believe those two pulled double duty and continued playing in Rifle Sport.

Breaking Circus was a very cool, very angry band. Their sound was very aggressive and Bjorklund was a great front man. Not only that, the band produced one of the all-time coolest songs, 'Driving The Dynamite Truck'. I love that song!

My favorite Breaking Circus moment occurred in the 7th St. Entry on New Year's Eve 1986. (I'm fairly certain it was 1986.) It was the custom at First Avenue that every New Year's Eve they would feature the best of the bands from the new band nights of that year. They would have the bands play in the Entry while the revelers whooped it up in the main room.

John and I were pretty impressed with the band when we saw them earlier in the year on a new band night in the Entry, so we ditched the main room scene to watch Breaking Circus rock in the New Year. And they were great.

The high point came just after midnight. The New Year had arrived while the band was still playing, but, once the song was finished, Bjorklund had a treat for us. He threw out to the crowd several small vials of some white, powdery substance. He said, "Here's your New Year's cocaine! Come and get your cocaine!"

John actually nabbed one. It was powdered sugar.

concert memoirs pt. 13 - benefit for todd & robyn hitchcock & the egyptians

Benefit For Todd featuring Giants Of Science, The Tusslers, Good Joe, Heathen, The Magnolias & Soul Asylum
3/24/86 First Avenue w/John Ticket Price: $5.00

Todd was a local scenester. He was a rail thin punk rocker who was at just about every show in those days. At least most of the ones I was at, anyway.

Todd had been at a show at the Cabooze, I believe, when a stage diver landed on his neck and broke it. There were those who claimed that it was no accident, but you know how those kinds of stories can come up. Conspiracies everywhere.

Living the punk rock lifestyle left Todd with no insurance and lots of medical bills. So, friends arranged a benefit concert night to help him out. A benefit with a decent lineup of local acts.

My overall recollection is that it was a pretty good night for music. Although specific memories are rather limited.

I do recall Heathen. I didn’t like them. I’d seen them a couple times. They were a lousy, Goth, noise band. I remember nothing about Giants Of Science and The Tusslers.

Good Joe was a band I’d seen a few times, as well. They were a decent rockin’ three piece band. They had the peculiar habit of spitting on each other while playing. Very gross.

The Magnolias were an above average local band. They were mods and had an obvious Who influence, so, of course, I liked them. The first time I saw them was on a Club Degenerate night at First Avenue, they did 15 or 20 minute cameo performance and I was impressed. They never got much bigger than the local scene, but they had potential.

Now Soul Asylum, they did make it bigger than the local scene. But you knew that. I liked them, but they were never my favorite of the local groups that John and I had seen. They had some really good tunes and some very awkward tunes.

They were much better that night than they were when they opened for X (First Avenue 10/15/84). No annoying, show delaying guitar string breakages that night.

By the way, Todd was lucky. The injury he suffered didn’t leave any permanent damage. He was able to walk again.

Robyn Hitchcock & the Egyptians w/The Blue Up?
3/26/86 First Avenue w/John Ticket Price: $6.00

Finally! After the great ice in the tea incident that saw us getting The Replacements instead of Robyn (First Avenue 7/1/85), we were getting our first chance to see the man of the surreal songs.

Robyn was great and soon became one of our favorites to see in concerts. Tight, funny and rockin’. His shows were always great.

I especially remember three things of that show: the three part harmony of ‘Uncorrected Personality Traits’, Robyn’s humorous stories between songs, and that Robyn blinks a lot. It was also apparent that the band was very much enjoying playing to us.

The Blue Up? was Ana Voog’s band and I don’t recall their set.

concert memoirs pt. 1 - kansas

This is going to be a lengthy series. I intend to run through what I can remember of the concerts I’ve seen through my lifetime. The idea came from my going through, in a fit of nostalgia, the ticket stubs I had managed to hang onto. There are quite a few. My hope is that it will be interesting to a total stranger. And, at the very least, it will be something for my son to read and see how cool ol’ Dad was in his day.

Now, I only have memory to go on (goon?), memories jogged by the ticket stubs themselves. I did consult my friend, John, with whom I had gone to most of the shows; my brother, Bob; and my wife, Amy, for the later shows. They were of some help on a few of the more foggy points. These recollections go back to more than 25 years ago, so not much of this series is going to be crystal clear on the details.

In fact, some of the ticket stubs don’t bring back anything at all. I look them and nothing comes to mind. Not a thing. This happens quite often with the opening acts. But there are many shows of which I have strong, clear memories.

I must have been pretty selective, because most of the shows I’ve seen had been pretty good. Some were even stellar (how’s that for hyperbole?). A couple were, well, less than inspiring.

Most of the shows were viewed at the legendary Minneapolis nightclub, First Avenue. John and I had become fixtures from late 1984 into the early 1990’s. We were regulars of Kevin Cole’s Club Degenerate, the Tuesday night dance club at which you could dance to the coolest music of the day. Punk, post punk, new wave, industrial, world, local, and Sweet’s ‘Ballroom Blitz’ and anything else Cole wanted to throw at us. But, that’s a story for a different blog.

First Avenue, for us, became the place to see concerts. They were able to book many of the best acts of that era and we could get an excellent view for a decent ticket price.

By the way, there is a documentary about that storied downtown danceteria which, more than likely, no one will see. A filmmaker named Rick Fuller made ‘First Avenue Hayday: 1985 - 1992’ chronicling that wonderful time-period. The time-period which just happens to be exactly when John and I were making the scene at First Avenue. The reason, as far as I’ve heard, that it will be difficult to see the film is because Fuller didn’t have the money to secure the rights to most of the songs featured in the documentary. Pity, I would have loved to have that on DVD. You can see the trailer on YouTube.

I’ve wandered off now... Where was I?

Concerts. Right. I wasn’t one of those concert-going kids when I was in high school. I remember hearing other kids my age at the time talking about going to concerts. On one occasion, there were some stoner kids who made up a big ol’ banner to bring to an upcoming Motorhead concert. Banners were big in those days with local rock stations offering prizes for the best displays (with the station’s logo prominently displayed, of course). Do they still do that?

So, I only went to three concerts while in high school. No money. No interest. No parental permission. I was probably too square. I didn’t really start hitting the concert trail until I was in art school. And it wasn’t until September 5, 1984 when I first stepped foot in First Avenue.

The list will be chronological from the earliest show to the last. I will also include what I can recall of shows for which I don’t have ticket stubs. Those won’t be in order, my memory ain’t that good. I really wish I had kept a concert journal.

So, I’ve yammered enough. I hope you will find this interesting...

Kansas w/Prism
Summer 1982 Met Center w/group of high school friends Ticket price: $11.50

This was my first concert. I went with some friends from school and we tailgated in the Met Center parking lot. (It’s not there anymore. It’s been replaced by the Mall of America.) We consumed Blatz Light Cream Ale and we were underage. Naughty, naughty.

This was Kansas without Steve Walsh, but they still were a soulless arena rock band anyway. I didn’t think that then. I liked a lot of crap in those days.

Anyway, what stands out most is the young woman down the row from our group, in a heap on the floor, sick from way too much beer or something. She was heaped that way through the opening act until the end of the night. She really had a great time.

I also remember getting home, buzzed, and then watching the video of the film ‘Warriors’. “Come out and play!”