No business like show business

This New York Times book review intrigues me. It was written by James McMurtry, the son of novelist Larry McMurtry and a fine roots rocker and songwriter.

The review is of a new memoir by Jacob Shlicter, a name that didn't send me rushing to Borders. It turns out that Shlicter is the drummer of the Minneapolis rock band Semisonic who, you may recall, had a hit a few years ago with "Closing Time" ("I know who I want to take me home/I know who I want to take me home/I know who I want to take me home," etc.). You know that "Closing Time" was big, because it made its way into one of Weird Al Yankovic's inspired polka medleys.

I was only dimly aware of Semisonic when they were on the charts, and their fifteen minutes were rapidly ticking away before I realized who they were--or, more precisely, who two of them were: Semisonic's singer, Dan Wilson, and bass player, John Munson, were members of Trip Shakespeare, a Twin Cities combo that made a bit of splash on the college circuit when I was, yes, in college. I used to love Trip Shakespeare.

Let me strengthen that: Trip Shakespeare inspired in me a frenzy that's as close as I'll likely ever come to Beatlemania-like ecstasy. I first saw Trip Shakespeare in Nashville, long about the summer of 1990. I recall they got a tiny writeup in Rolling Stone, which I read religiously at the time, and when I noticed they were playing at Music City's famed Exit/In nightclub (Keith Carradine performs there in Robert Altman's Nashville), I grabbed my friend Walter, and we made our way down.

We were blown away, mostly by the quartet's quirky songwriting and, even better, their vocal harmonies, the beauty of which had a lot to do with the fact that the two frontmen were Dan Wilson and his brother Matt. You can't beat DNA for great vocal harmonies.

But Trip Shakespeare's earnest songs about space and the afterlife and stuff weren't especially mainstream, so after a couple of albums on A&M, the group dissolved. Semisonic presently emerged, with a slick sound and slightly more commercial songwriting. Judging from McMurtry's review, what happened next is a familiar music-business tale of crushing debt, monotonous road trips and, once in a while, moments of great satisfaction on stage. Semisonic had the one big hit, and that was it for Semisonic.

The review was a pleasant reminder of my Trip Shakespeare obsession. I'm looking forward to reading the book.