The big three

The top three most memorable moments of my career are probably not ones you would expect. They weren't splashy feathers in the cap like being written up in Rolling Stone or appearing on Letterman. Instead, they were quiet moments that I experienced more or less on my own. I can remember all of them ultra-vividly, even though all occurred 40 years ago. 

The first was holding my first recording, the Gear Daddies' 45 rpm of She's Happy b/w 2-18 in 1987, in my hands. 

I borrowed my roommate's car and rushed across town after I got word that Gark Records, our label, had received them. I grabbed a whole box to deliver to the other guys and played it cool by not opening it immediately. Instead, I sauntered to the car and pulled around the corner to park and savor the moment alone. I sat there for a long time, staring at it in wonder. 

The second was hearing my music played on the radio for the first time. 

It was the above-mentioned version of She's Happy, and it played on KFAI, a tiny, non-commercial radio station in Minneapolis. We were given advance word that a DJ would include it in her local music program. The station's signal didn't reach much further than the neighborhood the studio was located in, so a few of us drove over and parked about a block away (we didn't want to be spotted and seem uncool). This was one of the few times I've enjoyed listening to my music or voice. 

The third moment was having the She's Happy 45 added to the C.C. Club jukebox.

This will be hard to understand unless you were immersed in the 1980s Twin Cities music scene. 

The C.C. Club was a dive bar located on the corner of 26th Street and Lyndale Avenue in Minneapolis, right in the heart of what was known as the rock and roll ghetto. I don't think it would be an exaggeration to say that 60% of the musicians in the Twin Cities music scene at that time lived within a half mile of there. And those that didn't live near there still hung out there. I lived within 1/2 block of the C.C. and spent a LOT of time there. 

The C.C. was an exciting place for a young musician new to the Twin Cities scene to hang out. Many of my peers and musical heroes practically lived there. On any given night, you'd see some or all of the members of the Replacements, Husker Du, Soul Asylum, Jayhawks, Run Westy Run, Cows, etc. Bigger-name touring bands with a night off often stopped there, as well. Everyone drank Rolling Rock in the bottle, and the metallic ka-CHUNK of the cigarette vending machine was constant. 

The C.C. also had a jukebox with a fantastic selection of music, heavily weighted with local bands. To be added was an unofficial acknowledgment that you had arrived on the Twin Cities music scene. 

I never would have dreamed I'd be given the honor, so I froze when the opening chords to She's Happy cut through the bar. I played it cool and acted like I hadn't noticed until someone nudged me and pointed it out. I gave a nonchalant, "Huh? Oh. That's cool", then continued drinking my beer. It was another instance of avoiding looking uncool at all costs.

There were many unforgettable first-times (playing the 7th Street Entry, playing the Main Room at First Avenue, and going to NYC come immediately to mind), but I'll save those for future entries.