Braving a blizzard that would eventually dump 17 inches of snow on Minneapolis, a healthy-sized crowd packed First Avenue to catch the Old 97’s show on Sunday, February 20. Touring to support their latest release, The Grand Theater, Volume One, the band shook off the Minnesota weather and brought in their AltCountry Texas swagger, opening the set with the dirty, bluesy title track. Four songs into the set, on “Niteclub,” it was clear that the guys had come out swinging, showing why they’re called cowpunks.
The set was a crowd pleaser across the board. The pounding new single, “Every Night is Friday Night Without You,” and other tracks off the new album were there, especially pleasing to the fans just discovering the band. But lead singer Rhett Miller had also peppered the list with old standbys and requests to make long-time fans proud to be in attendance.
Of the new songs, I was especially impressed with “Please Hold On While the Train is Moving,” which seems like an AltCountry nod to Led Zeppelin what with a “been a long time” vibe. They also slow that train down midway through for a half-tempo section that has you buying tickets to jump on that train as it pulls out of the station again to close out the song.
Amid the band tunes was a classic, “Wish the Worst,” from Hitchhike to Rhome, which shows the 97’s doing their best sloppy drunk Replacements act. Elsewhere, the set was propelled forward by “Indefinitely,” “Champaign, Illinois,” “State of Texas,” “Smoker,” and closed out the main set with “Doreen.” After Miller took the stage for the encore alone singing his “My Valentine,” the band treated us to a few more rockers including “Buick City Complex,” “Dance With Me,” and finally, “Timebomb.”
The evening also included a number of tracks where bassist Murry Hammond stepped forward to lend his voice for lead vocals, slowing things down a bit, getting up to step onto the train platform, and listen to him busking. “Barrelhead Sun” actually kicked up the dust a bit. Then there was also “West Texas Teardrops,” the new “You Were Born to Be in Battle,” and during the encore (while playing acoustic guitar), “Valentine.”
But it was on the night’s third track, “Dance Class,” that I was pondering what makes an Old 97’s show so compelling. Sure, the songs are about sex, drinking, and all of that rock ‘n’ roll kind of stuff, but there’s always seemed like there was more substance to it. It’s the odd juxtaposition of something hopeful and light in the midst of the normal country kind of lyrical fare. On “Dance Class,” it dawned on me that it’s because the band makes a backbeat so rebellious while Miller’s lyrics make a romantic move just a snarl. It’s music that looks straight through love into the dark side of things. It’s music that wryly pokes holes in romantic notions. It’s music that only pretends to champion loose morals while actually somewhere in the midst of it wishing to find true love, settle down, and make something good of this world. At least, I think I heard all of that in a song about falling in love with a girl across the room in the dance class.
Sometime during the evening, Miller declared that we should all just spend the night at the club like a big sleepover. Hammond said, “It’ll be like church camp.” Miller replied, “Except with more booze.” And then Hammond almost chimed in with one more thought. I don’t know if this is what he was thinking, but I was thinking that it’d be like church camp with more booze but with at least one pastor in attendance.
