I continue to be astounded by the depth and breadth of music
flowing out of the
Minnesota
music scene, and I’m speaking as someone who has only ever
dipped their toes into it.
Consequently, I’m “discovering” bands that frankly many hard
core
Minnesota
music fans have been following for years. I hang my head before your collective
“ah DUH” but will soldier on in talking about them, anyway.
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The Pines (l-r: Benson Ramsey and David Huckfelt, with bassist James Buckley.
Not pictured: Michael Rossetto, J.T. Bates, Jacob Hanson, Alex Ramsey) |
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Benson Ramsey |
While it’s easy to shorthand Indie-roots band Trampled by
Turtles for those who haven’t heard them, at least when referencing their song “Wait So Long” (“Think Hüsker Dü, but with a fiddle
and a mandolin.”), I’m finding The Pines harder. What first drew me to pay
attention was this Steve Earle song I kept hearing on the radio, “
Heart and Bones.”
Except, it’s not Steve Earle, it’s Benson Ramsey, taking a turn on vocals for
the band. He also is the voice on the beautiful
Cry, Cry, Crow from
their 2012
Dark So Gold.
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David Huckfelt |
And then I heard this song
“Rise Up and Be Lonely”, which vaguely
reminded me of Dylan’s “
Not Dark Yet”—if Jakob rather than his dad was singing
it (so the voice does
NAUGGGTT sound like
THISSSS, but still sounds vaguely Dylanese). Well, that’s David Huckfelt.
Both these guys actually hail from Iowa,
which is good for Iowa, since after Michele
Bachman I was pretty much inclined to write off Iowa and lock our borders down there from any
Iowan immigration. So apologies, Iowa—you’re
probably as embarrassed to be associated with her as we are. And thanks for
loaning us these guys.
So, anyway, after that bit of research (thanks, google), I
realized “oh, The Pines—turns out I
like The Pines; I should go
hear The Pines”,
and so I got tickets for the Friday night show at the Cedar.

When I got to the Cedar, a venue I love for many reasons,
not least of which is the introductions given by—well, we’ll call him The
Master of Ceremonies—I feared the worst when I saw chairs not just on
the floor but on the stage. Generally, I hate a sit down show. I think of them
as “sit down and fall asleep” shows. But that’s how I saw Peter Himmelman at
the Cedar, and there’s no way you fall asleep during a Peter Himmelman show.
Turns out, it’s the same for The Pines. The chairs are there to keep you from falling
down as you are transfixed by the swirl of sound.
It’s strange to describe folk music as “lush,” but I think
that fits The Pines very well. It’s a surround-sound kind of feeling, but much
more of a welcome-home-arms-around-you-hug surround than an Enya-woo-woo-mystic
kind of surround. It feels intimate and home-y and beautiful and joyful. I am
very glad I did a little homework and then got myself tickets and down to the
show.
Before setting aside The Pines and moving backwards to Dave
Simonett, I’ll mention a little story from the end of the show: Benson
mentioned having suddenly contemplating on the ground beneath him while standing in
line at a local coffee shop. The story begins, for him, with reflecting on a
comet (ISON) that is approaching earth, then moves on to the
molten lava beneath his feet and the distance to the center of the earth. It’s at
this point that I realized “I should be recording this,” so watch the video for
the remainder of his story. I think what I love about it best is not even just
Benson’s wonderment at the world but the loving, amused indulgence
in the faces of his band members, as they let him go off on this storytelling
tangent.
Now, Dave Simonett. I’d say this was—going back to my Hüsker
Dü analogy—a bit like hearing Bob Mould’s
Workbook
Songs and Stories when having been (honestly) only a passing Hüsker Dü fan
and realizing “holy shit, the guy writes great lyrics and man, can he play the
guitar/create a melody!!!”. Once again, I hang my head in shame at the
collective groan of all the Hüsker Dü fans saying “Jesus, how many years did it
take you to figure THAT out, lady???!!” Better late than never? Mea culpa.
Dave gave a stripped down presentation of his Trampled by
Turtles songs (basically). Alone with a guitar, he sang mainly with his eyes
closed—something I assume he can’t normally do in a more energetic and
staged-crowded Trampled performance, or he’d probably get knock down or off the
stage. It was wistful and also lovely—and with amusing moments, such as him
mentioning, clearly with a joke and a smile, that the audience might be more familiar with a song “how those other guys (Trampled by Turtles) ruined it.”
Yeah, well I was shooting blind, with the camera sitting on my lap and the viewfinder not visible. All things considered it is better than it could have been.