As all of us at the University of Wisconsin are aware, the Wisconsin/Minnesota reciprocity agreement fosters cooperation and creativity between our fair states. It was in this spirit that the equally reciprocal Minnie/Mad Festival — a six-dollar Friday night show at the High Noon Saloon featuring various Madison and Minneapolis-based bands who also played at Stasiu’s Place in Minneapolis on Saturday — was designed. The Madison-based Sleeping in the Aviary was called away at the last minute due to a family emergency, and the scheduling hi-jinks of the High Noon’s website led many to miss what was surely an inspiring set by doom-metal band Gay Witch Abortion. Even with these missteps, however, there was more than enough music to be enjoyed by all.
Perennial opener for the joke-metal band Cealed Kasket, Madison’s Awesome Car Funmaker, appeared in style with their keyboardist Brendan McCarty in a Queensbury boxing suit — complete with a black pencil-thin mustache — and guitarist Ryan Corcoran wearing the American flag like a cape. Driven by wailing guitar licks and goofball lyrics like “Dinosaurs go ‘rah’/ Pterodactyls go ‘caw,'” the group’s aerobic arena-rock was eagerly devoured by the enthusiastic audience.
Minneapolis’ MC/VL, on the other hand, seemed to have diligently studied from the Beastie Boy school of white-boy party rap, with dueling vocals, copious amounts of feminine rhymes and words like “fisticuffs” and “monkey shines” bandied about without abandon. Wearing track pants and red headbands and spouting phrases like “If you got a pair of hands, just clap y’all,” it was hard to tell if the pair were dead serious about their dubious craft or were playing it all for laughs — after all, their resemblance to Seth Green in the seminal 1998 romantic teen comedy “Can’t Hardly Wait” was almost uncanny.
Madison’s maximalist indie-rock band Pale Young Gentleman lists “champagne and classical music” as their musical influence on their MySpace page, which is almost too appropriate of a band description. Decked out in formal dresses and black ties, and with no less than four members of the band playing cellos and violins, Pale Young Gentleman achieved a full, orchestral sound that even many national touring bands are unable to achieve (including you, Sufjan Stevens). Led by buoyant piano lines and a stomping waltz time — not to mention the singer’s flailing arms — the band seems almost destined to grace a feature-film soundtrack or Volkswagen commercial, and songs like “Saturday Night” had the front row two-stepping along throughout the set.
Despite all this stiff-competition, the dress-up punk of Madison’s Screamin’ Cyn Cyn and the Pons and Minneapolis’ noise-rock duo Birthday Suits were clearly the highlights of the night. Screamin’ Cyn Cyn’s vocalist and keytar virtuoso Shane O’Neil appeared in a classy sequin-striped, red and white candy-cane leotard, along with a pair of rubber thigh-high go-go boots he had to keep pulling up. Guitarist and vocalist Cynthia Burnson, meanwhile, chose the more conservative black dress and sneakers ensemble.
With only a handful of pauses between songs, the band played as if possessed, as O’Neil continued to scream and stomp around the stage in between vamping like a strung-out prostitute. On “Fun,” Burnson and O’Neil traded lines about their favorite activities: “Swimming naked in warm waters/ smoking hash on teeter totters.” Drummer Steve Shah’s expertise on the jam block also laid the foundation for the galloping “Cowboy Song,” and Burnson took the mike for “Set the Table,” writhing on the floor and leaving mic stands strewn around in her wake.
Despite Cyn Cyn’s considerable energy, the drum and guitar tag-team of Birthday Suits almost upstaged them. Guitarist and lead-man Matthew Kazama careened wildly around the empty stage while drummer Hideo Takahashi ferociously impersonated Muppets drummer Animal, throttling his drum set at an almost inconceivable velocity. The band constantly experimented with a dichotomy of noise and melody, their trashing instrumentals resembling the Liars’ more dissonant moments, while Kazama’s unabashed pop vocals often sounded more akin to Deerhoof and the post-punk work of fellow statesmen Hüsker Dü. Pitting near radio-friendly fare like “Automatic Oh Oh Yeah” against more challenging faire like “Cherry Blue,” the pair left the expectations and eardrums of all in attendance blown away.
