Minutemen

After hearing Minuteman bass player Mike Watt wax nostalgic on Mark Maron’s podcast, it of course set off my own string of memories about meeting the band for the first time. I had seen the Minutemen for the first time on a trip to L.A. around 1982—a show that blew me away in terms of the amount of energy a band could bring on stage. Watt broke a bass string which wasn’t unusual for him, but hard to fathom as a bass player myself.

The band made it to Chicago in 1984, playing the long gone West End on Armitage. There were two shows scheduled—all ages early show and an over 21 late show. I had bought tickets for both. The West End was my favorite place all time to see a show in Chicago. It was tiny, but there was a half-moon contour to the stage that made for more space to watch the band up front. Add the “balcony” to the mix and you were right there with the band. Some of my most memorable concert experiences happened there. Yo La Tengo (1^st Chicago show), Husker Du (Sunday matinee), The Feelies (best concert ever?), Green on Red, Alex Chilton (1^st time back in 80s) were just a few.

The Minutemen were great in the first set. They tore the place up. D. Boon was my new guitar hero “not soloing” on his Telecaster. It seemed like they were playing every musical style at the same time, all in songs that were less than 2 minutes long. I was happy that I’d be seeing them twice. But the second show would never happen.

The band might have figuratively been tearing up the club, but the owner started to literally do it. He was fueled on some combination of drugs and liquor, straddled his motorcycle into the club. He threatened to throw a bar stool at the mirrored wall behind the bar—luckily that didn’t happen. Sue Miller, who booked the club was trying in vain to get him to calm down. He smashed the peanut dispenser near the front door. This all probably didn’t last long, but we all high-tailed out of there when there was a chance to do it—we hung out in the street wondering what would happen next.

The news came down that the second show was canceled. We were all mingling out front with the band marveling at the chaos when Frank Loose, drummer for the band Get Smart, suggested we go over to his apartment on Ashland for an impromptu party and invited the Minutemen to join us.

It turned out to be a pretty great consolation for missing the second show. I spent most of the time listening to Watt rant, stuff that he has probably ranted about hundreds of times since, stories about his “ole man” and growing up in “Pedro.”

The first bass player in eleventh dream day, Shu Shubat, had D. Boon cornered for the whole party. She had him in a spell and they spoke about who knows what for hours. He was such a sweet gentle soul from my brief encounter. When we found a litter of kittens at our practice space later that year, there was one who stood out with that same personality and I named him D. Boon.

The Minutemen embodied all that was good about the indie scene; the comradery, the energy, jamming econo. They brought poetry to noise and paved the way for a lot of bands. Boon, Watt, and Hurley—three guys bringing very unique wavelengths into one amazing jam.