Letter to the Eccentric
An admission of love in the Twin Cities music scene
By Quinn McClurg with art by natalie williams
You’re at a show. The sound techs have calibrated their devices, the stagehands have tuned their instruments, and the cable runners have run their cables—now everyone waits for the performer. It’s some name you’ve never heard of, but they’re playing on the same bill as your favorite band, so they’ve got to be good, right?
Then, the spirit of a long-dead founding father materializes from the mist stage-left, powdered wig and all. You begin trembling with fear until you notice… that isn’t a ghost at all, but rather, Larry Wish.
I’ve seen plenty of fantastic shows, but some performances have become consistent and predictable enough to blend together. But unusual performers—the ones who occupy the spaces between the waking mind, the sleeping mind, and the wardrobes of 90s drag queens—are the ones that make nights memorable.
Whether it consists of some unplugged-piano-playing, mic-stand-riding, and nursery-rhyme-synth of Larry Wish, or the babbling, undulating, audience-participating scream-miasma of Mommy Log Balls, it is clear that the best unusual performances border on performance art.
And the performers aren’t alone in their eccentricity: their unusual nature often only can inspire animalistic fervor in the audience members, as if they have no idea how to react other than by embracing euphoric irony. Rarely are audiences as enthusiastic, loud, or wild as shows where all conventions are off.
If you are a performer looking to emanate this energy yourself, all you have to do is find a goofy gimmick: something that is unique to you and otherwise unheard of. Using costumes and masks like the previous examples is always a good call, especially in securing your privacy. But another good gimmick example would be Cannabis Kiss’ singing saw performances. Executed with an over-rosined violin bow and a humble Ace Hardware saw, this performance isn’t exactly of technical grace, but it can turn any basement show into a confused surge of jubilation.
These flares, both technical and visual, will set you apart from other performers, both in spectacle and memory.
As for any more of my opinion or guidance, you’re on your own—I’m not in your band, and I’m certainly not your aesthetic manager—I’m just here for the music.