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Twin Town High (vol. 8) |
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Alone with ... the Bridge Club
Wednesday 11 February @ 10:49:08 |
 by Troy Pieper
In the depths of a white house I met with three other people. They led me past their instruments, all arranged in what they called their "practice space," and into a small room. Under a bare bulb, amid the crumbling brick, the plaster flaking Silence-of-the-Lambs-esquely, I sat down. They closed the metal door, and as it scraped across the floor, I wondered would I ever again see the light of day. I realized I was alone with…the Bridge Club.
 And they turned out to be such ... like ... nice guys.
Commander Mandible, the local garage screaming trio's debut EP, has an unmistakably retro sound. Bridge Club brandish classic guitar riffs, have classic Beatles shag haircuts, even the story of the bands inception is a typical one—that is except for singer/guitarist Joe Werner's recollection of it. According to Werner he and fellow bandmates Mike Koch (drums) and Bill Rammer (bass) were all abducted in a spaceship by Jesus who told them that if they didn't start a band the world wasn't going to make it. "Like a "Bill and Ted's" thing," referring to the film that burned the memory of Keanu Reeves as Ted Theodore Logan into our minds forever.
On the EP's first track, "Gash Hound," totally righteous riffage peels over Koch's crashing drums and Werner's amphetamine yowl sinks its teeth sharply into ones brain. The song's title was inspired by an old guard at MCAD's museum, who explained that the term was used to desribe a man who chases women, what today would be called a man-slut. The grotesque comedy of the phrase seemed ripe for a song in the eyes of the group (who tend to find songwriting inspiration from unlikely sources).
Contrary to the mood created by their dingy practice space, the Bridge Club also dabble in sunnier tracks. "Baby's New Boots" on the EP has a satisfying, up-tempo rock swagger, with lyrics like "I'm so happy, she is lookin' fine; she's so happy, I'm her lovin' man" that evoke the atmosphere friends playfully rocking out in a parents' basements.
"Commander Mandible doesn't have a real message other than [that atmosphere]," says Werner. It was intended to have "a feeling of urgency and energy and hope, like a good first record".
In the Bridge Club, one can hear traces of Koch's love of the Replacements (one of the reasons he moved here from Pittsburgh), as well as Rammer and Werner's deep affection for the Who, which is perhaps the band's most apparent influence-Rammer is also quick to cite pizza as a source of inspiration. "Pizza the band? That would be a good name," said Koch.
"Pizza the Band…The Movie."
Bridge Club manage to infuse their consciously nostalgia-heavy rock with enough energy to avoid the pitfalls of a retro palate. With the addition of a healthy portion of distortion and a few other finishing punk touches, their music remains sincere and they retain the sentimentality of classic rock. On "Last Year's Prom," Werner cries, "Last year's prom sure was a drag/ nobody was dancing, everyone looked so sad," and you can tell he means it.
Bridge Club have been known to so inspire fans at their live shows that they fly into all-night fits of dancing. According to Rammer, one fan at Big V's "put her hands up and did this amazing zombie dance." Bridge Club aren't all about good times and dancing, however, as rumors surrounding the band concerning ugly backstage fights turned out to be founded. A few months ago the boys came to blows with touring outfit Red Walls ("they sounded like the Wallflowers," claims Werner) after a dispute that revolved around "hanging around other people's girlfriends and a bottle being thrown." Could a band be more classically cool than that?
"I think a lot of people are genuinely ready to help each other out here," claims Rammer. "Which is a good thing, because some bands from other cities aren't like that." During a recent 7th Street Entry show, I watched the band wrest a set of very solid new songs from their instruments that left the crowd wanting more—a mark of good art, and a promise for a full-length in the future. Werner would like to create a carnival-like atmosphere at one of their shows, incorporating instruments like the calliope.. "That's one of the worst-sounding instruments," said Rammer. "It sounds like a nightmare."
"It is a nightmare," says Werner.
For now, Bridge Club's goals remain admirably simple, "I'd like to see more people at our shows like that [dancing] lady at Big V's," says Rammer.
The band writes a couple of songs during each practice, so there's more than enough material for an album, which they hope will be recorded this summer. "We've got all of these things we want to do that are happening so fast," says Werner. "It's frustrating, because we work regular jobs, but all we want to do is music." Someday, Bridge Club hopes to fulfill a burning desire to play on “Late Night With Conan O'Brien”—or “Saturday Night Live”—and get made fun of.
And they seem poised to give it a good shot. As other new bands jump on the retro bandwagon, Bridge Club are not so gratuitous, self-conscious or insincere. Simply, they prove on record and stage that at least three young Twin-Citians are intent on keeping the heart of rock 'n' roll beating with a burst of genuine adrenaline.
Bridge Club plays Fri., Feb. 13, at the 7th St. Entry with April Epidemic, Fairweather Friend and Words to a Film Score. 9 p.m. $5. 21+. 701 First Ave. N., Mpls. 612-338-8388.
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