If Lisa is really the future, may no human ever see the past.
Minneapolis singer/songwriter/performance artist (I guess) Future Lisa played unintentional ringmaster Saturday night at the Terminal Bar.
Ms. Future’s Music Showcase #7/fetish party celebrated her latest CD No Head For You. Yes that kind of head.
Before she began her set my Old Style impared senses paused as she rode human pony Charger up and down the bar. Charger Pony’s outfit was all black leather with hooves, assless chaps and a real pony tail. If I didn’t have HBO this act would have been shocking.
Since this was a so-called fetish party the 250 pound poured into leather set camped up by the stage, showing off the new paten leather and too many donuts at work look.
After telling the crowd she had never been on a human pony, Future busted into “Pony Boy” droning over tinka, tinka keyboard licks “I want a Pony Boy of my own.”
This is your first time on a human horse, right?
Future’s set included the classics as “I fucked him for fun” and “Heart Transplant”. (Why does she need a new heart? Her’s has been broken too many times.)
If the future really is now, Future Lisa should have spent some time getting to know her sample selection and Roland's lay out.
Too many songs were started then stopped for a “do over”. The unfazed crowd continued to drink and talk. She was oblivious.
A guy sitting next to my friend Sherman struck up a conversation between the errors. Jeff the cabbie said he had his rent money stolen before he got to the bar. He could not understand what Future Lisa was doing on stage. We didn’t know either, but the floorshow alone was worth the $5 cover.
Future did invite other bands to her showcase.
Larry Ravenswood opened with a normal sounding guitar and a sample song. Before the second song started a man dressed in stealthy ninja all-black popped on stage with a rag doll. When the song started ninja put the doll up to the mic to sing "along" with the chorus “I’m a Doll”. By song’s end both people were stomping the doll leaving it for dead in a terry cloth suicide swirl.
Future Lisa’s do overs continued to melt in the space between the bar din and circle of equipment moving up and down from the stage.
The Isms were refreshing but horribly out of place. Their serviceable covers including The Velvet Underground’s “Femme Fatale” fit better in a coffeehouse; not your grandparent’s basement bar.
When they were done, The Isms bass player told Sherman and I he knew Future Lisa from “The scene.” What scene we wondered?
Blink 182 wannabees Krudler played next because Future Lisa would not stop e-mailing them. Nobody ever said self proclaimed future identity queens were not persistent. Does she e-mail in our time or some parallax wrinkle we can only begin to comprehend?
Future Lisa continued to believe she needed to fill the time between sets while the redheaded bartender kept the Old Style coming, fueling the laughter.
Trailer Park Queens a weird mix of Weird Al meets grunge covered pink flamingos.
They opened with the Breeders “Cannonball” for the poddy set replacing the chorus with “do you poo poo like a cannon ball?”
We left as they were singing the Pixies “Where is my mind” now as “Where is my lighter”.
All of a sudden having heroin fed exed to my doorstep seemed cool. Maybe it could save the world from the Future.
This is some of the best news ever for all us cobber haters. Finally those wacky Lutherans learn a lesson in real world economics. Oh, how the pearly yellow corn cob spires have fallen.