the // skyway \\ issue #79 (may 8, 2002) web page at www.theskyway.com send your submissions to skyway@novia.net list guy (stop by and say hi to) matt@novia.net subscription info: send in the body of a message to majordomo@novia.net to subscribe: 'subscribe skyway' to unsubscribe: 'unsubscribe skyway' always thanks to bob fulkerson __________________________________________________________________________ 0. I'll be You (m@) I. Angry letters to Spin, etc. (Rich Yarges, Dave Halloran, Michael Duncan, Lisa Frank, Singlecoil) II. People who got to see Paul Westerberg (JB Mahugh, Thierry Cote, Cathy Witalka, Mike, Jeff, Sarah Flynn, Lara, 'Bob Stinson' but not *that* Bob Stinson) III. Stuff from magazines that I'm not sure I can reprint (Dan Contreras, Frank Esposito, J, UnionWells [Duncan DeGraffenreid], Mark Hanson) __________________________________________________________________________ 0. I'LL BE YOU (May 5 + 2002) I missed the all the Westerberg in-stores. I've seen Paul Westerberg solo six times (on the 13 Songs tour, Omaha, St. Louis, Iowa City, and the fateful Columbia Missouri show where he played an intimate show in front of 50 people but collapsed from exhaustion...then on the Eventually tour in Boston and in Athens, Georgia, which was by far the most amazing and energetic I'd seen him since the Replacements. (That's a sentence fragment, but I talk like that too.)) But between touring with a band I'm in and full-time employment, I missed these in-stores. I'm sure between portable DAT recorders and the miniturization of videocameras, eventually we'll all get to experience the next-best-thing. But concert tapes tell you what songs he played and what jokes he cracked inbetween songs, but it doesn't explain what it was like actually being there. So luckily, a bunch of people have dropped everything to spend an hour telling the whole subjective story, (re)printed here. Thanks, thanks lots. Right now I'm in Providence, Rhode Island in some random dorm at Brown. A couple years ago I was a camp counselor in Vermont, and now those kids are college students and camp counselors themselves, but we kept in touch and we still hang out and do stupid stuff. Last night we went to go see Belle and Sebastian in Boston. It was cute, not necessarily rockin', but so...pleasant. Almost too much so, like the feeling after you eat cotton candy. But no, it was sunshine-y. But I'm still sorry I missed Paul. You know the crazy thing about this dorm? It was built in the 60's and it's riot-proof. It's all cinder block. There's no hallways where you can congregate, the stairwells go right to the rooms. Social engineering by design. A week from Monday, I go on tour in Japan. Wow, that should be some crazy shit. I'll let you know how it goes. Feliz Cinco de Mayo! Happy Greek Easter. Matt __________________________________________________________________________ I. THIS IS MY FAVORITE BAND From: "Rich Yarges" Subject: 'Mats Influence Date: Wed, 24 Apr 2002 11:47:34 -0500 'Mats Faithful- I never thought I'd relay my story to you all about the influence of The Replacements on my life but after reading this months submissions thought I would go ahead and give it a shot. I became a fan in 1987 my freshman year at Kansas State University. I was sold the minute I heard "Pleased to Meet Me" and I couldn't even tell you what song it was. I know I probably listened to that album daily for the entire school year. I eventually bought all The Replacements albums (Tim became and still is my favorite) and they became the measuring stick for all bands. Of course no one ever measured up. At this same time I was an "aspiring" musician in a band called Truck Stop Love. We started out as shitty as anything, became proficient you could say, and evolved a sort of Punk/Rock/Country sound and would eventually receive a record deal with all the trimmings. We, of course, idolized The 'Mats from the "Fuck You" attitude right on down to the sloppy, drunk shows. At one point people would attend shows just to see how drunk we would get and still try to play. I don't know how many times club owners told us that the night we played was the most money they had ever made at the bar. So, not only we're we drunken slobs so were our fans. There are many nights I don't even remember doing the sound check. This of course did not fly with the record label or many of the club owners. I guess this could be seen as taking hero worship to its most extreme. I remember the first time we were booked to play a show at The Uptown in Minneapolis. We were giddy as school boys. This was our Mecca. We of course thought we were God's gift to rock and had it in our heads that every great Minneapolis musician would be there from Grant Hart to Slim Dunlap. We were, as you may have guessed, highly disappointed when there were no Rock Icons at the show and hardly a crowd either. Our drummer did, sadly, have a chance meeting with Bob Stinson who was in a drunken stupor dragging his guitar down the sidewalk. This weighed heavy on all of us. On this same trip we managed to sneak into to Twin Tone Records through a favor and left demo tapes all over Peter Jesperson's desk. You guessed it, we never did hear from him! We would eventually play several more times in Minneapolis and become friends with the likes of God's Favorite Band and Beyond Zebra. That first trip, however, will always be forged in my memory. Just the thought of playing on the same stage as The 'Mats still sends chills up my spine. This is getting long, but to relate one more story. We recorded our album "How I Spent My Summer Vacation" at Ardent Studios in Memphis. Jody Stephens of Big Star produced it. We had read about and heard about all the antics The Replacements had pulled there. We saw what was supposed to be the stain from The Replacements puking in their hands and throwing it on the wall. This of course only added to their aura in our eyes. I guess as a musician The 'Mats had a sort of life altering effect on me not only through their music but through their attitude and lifestyle. I remain an ever faithful fan. Rich Yarges Date: Fri, 26 Apr 2002 00:34:45 -0700 (PDT) From: Dave Subject: Greetings Well, here goes my best attempt at an intro. I'm 37, a bookstore manager, dad, and a 'Mats fan. Couldn't believe I saw Chris King's name in issue 77. I'm in St. Louis and he used to write for everything! Good band, too. I was fotunate enough to see the band on four separate occasions. The most memorable(what I remember) was a or in Columbia, Mo at a club called the Blue Note in '84 or '85. My loser friends crapped out at the last minute so I drove the 100 or so miles by myself, walked into an empty club and got a beer. It was amazingly early and there were only a few peolple in the place. I'm just sitting there when Chris sits down and starts shooting the bull. Anyway, by the end of the night I had seen the best show of my life and inhaled more beer than I thought humanly possible. The next day I passed a final in an acting classs where I was supposed to play a drunk guy. Here I sit listening to Paul's new album for about the 5th time since I bought it. Words can't describe... I'm into Uncle Tupelo, The BottleRockets, Wilco, Husker Du, Soul Asylum, Nirvana, Rem, Guadalcanal Diary, & lots of other stuff from the mid eighties on that i can' think of. Great site, Matt. Dave Halloran From: "Duncan" Subject: Fw: 50 greatest ? Date: Fri, 26 Apr 2002 11:29:34 -0500 The following is an e-mail I recently sent to Spin magazine: ----- Original Message ----- From: Duncan To: feedback@spin.com Sent: Friday, April 26, 2002 11:23 AM Subject: 50 greatest ? Are you kidding me? 50 of the greatest bands of all time and not one mention of The Replacements? Come on.... Coming from a magazine that I once respected for placing Paul Westerberg on the cover as "the soul of rock and roll" I would expect more... I cancelled my subscription years ago when you guys stopped reviewing quality artists like Buffalo Tom, Afghan Whigs, Superdrag, etc...and went with the rest of the world into the pitiful culture of boy bands, teen pop, hip hop and the rest of the crap plastered all over the radio and EmpTV... your magazine started to look like one big convoluted fashion statement that had gone awry, with more ads for this tasteless pop culture than music... Korn??? Outkast??? - Ridiculous... And need I remind you that there would never have been a Nirvana or a Pearl Jam or any of the other so-called "alternative rock" bands that followed if they didn't have The 'Mats to inspire them (or steal from)... That is all for now, Michael Duncan mduncan2@midsouth.rr.com Date: Sun, 5 May 2002 19:18:11 -0400 From: "tweedlepuss@earthlink.net" Hey there...I've been enjoying Skyway for years, but always from the sidelines. I'm on such a P.W./Mats kick right now that I couldn't resist not stepping up to the spotlight anymore (this is the spotlight, right?) and saying hello and telling my little How-The-Replacements- Changed-My-Life-Story. My name is Lisa, by the way. When I was 15, I was friends with this girl named Monica that went to my high school. We didn't have much in common except for that we didn't really fit in anywhere and we didn't like people very much (I kinda romantasized myself after Holden Caulfield, except that I didn't try to shoot John Lennon or anything). Anyway, the way Monica and I reacted to boys we liked was also veyr different. Where as I was too shy to ever make any sort of move/gesture/simple verbal greeting to a boy, Monica was very direct about it and didn't see the point in wasting time. In October of that year ('85, which makes us in 10th grade), Monica developed a crush on this boy named Heath and somehow finagled an invite to his house. She didn't want to go alone, however (she was a little of a tease), and dragged me along. It was about 4:00 in the afternoon when we got to his house and went straight to his bedroom. Monica walked immediately to his bed and I tiptoed around, looking at all the stuff in his room. I stoped short when I got to his turntable, where my eyes immediately fixated on the cover of Let It Be. Even though I have never heard of the Replacements, I felt strangely drawn to it. Heath came over and informed me that it's the greatest album ever and asked if I wanted to hear it (like there's anyway I could've said no to hearing "the greatest album ever"). Then, as Monica lured Heath over to her, I sat on the floor and listened closely, as I went over the pictures and the words again and again. As Monica was doing whatever with Heath in the corner (not much, as I think I mentioned she was a little bit of a tease), I was falling in love with this band. That sounds cliched and stupid, I know, but it's true. Never in my life have I been affected so intensely on first listen, especially to "Sixteen Blue" and "Unsatisfied." They still kill me. After we finally left, I took the bus to the record store and bought my own copy of Let It Be and played it over and over again until early in the morning. The next day, I went out and bought the earlier albums, floored by the rawness and the humor. I was first in line when Tim came out and have been for every P.W./Mats record release since then. Because I wasn't the most together teenager ever, I didn't get to see them until 1987, first at an in-store and then at a gig. I got to the in-store a few hours earlier, barely able to contain myself. They had tables set up and a backdrop for the album, but because the record store and the label didn't promote it (fucking assholes), hardly anyone came (I think the grand total was 12). Anyway, I brought my camera, all this stuff for them to sign, and finally decided on what I was going to say to them, but when the moment finally came, I froze. Even worse, I was so out-of-my-mind excited about the in-store that I forgot to see how many pictures I had left in my camera and consequently, I never got one of Chris. Later, I went to the show and had one of the best times of my life thus far. They were like nothing I had ever seen. The energy, the rawness, the honesty, and the words. When I got home that night, I literally cried myself to sleep, thinking that finally, I knew why I was alive. That's dramatic as hell, but hey, I was 16, right? At that time, running out of AA batteries was such a heartbreaking experience that I had to record it in my diary. I went to every Replacements and P.W. show in L.A. since then and have always come back feeling the same way as that first show. On Paul's most recent tour of in-stores, I was lucky enough to go to two shows. At the first signing (in Portland), I told him that he had been making me cry since I was 14 (I miscalculated) and now I'm almost 32 and he still makes me cry. I won't go into the whole conversation that took place (not like it was that long, but I was one of those people that held up the line a few minutes), but I will say that he wrote (on page 14 of the special packaging for 14 Songs), "To Lisa, Cry for Love, Paul Westerberg." Again, I cried when I got home. No, I'm not on any medication, but perhaps I should be. Anyway, one last thing--I'm moving to Spokane soon and am wondering if there are any Replacements fans out that way... Thanks for a great website, lisa frank From: Singlecoil666@aol.com Date: Sun, 5 May 2002 20:50:38 EDT Subject: eeeeee my favorite song is bastards of young __________________________________________________________________________ II. Subject: Seattle in-store: Easy Street Records 4/22 From: "J.B.M." Date: Tue, Apr 23, 2002 12:19 AM Thanks to: Duncan DeGraffenreid Okay, I know people are curious about this so here goes. The show was at the newly remodeled Easy Street Records (used to be a Tower Books). The store still isn't quite open for business so people were lining up out front and the doors were not opened. Got there at 5:00PM and Paul was set to play at 7:30. There were about 10-20 people waiting in line and I looked in the window of the store and saw Paul on the stage at the back of the store doing a sound check. We went and got dinner and came back around 40 minutes later. The line was double but still not that bad. Doors opened at 7:00 PM we easily got up close stage left. The store was filled but I bet if you came late you could have got in and stood at the back. One of dthe announcements by the store mgr was that the store could holds about 600 and the place was full, but not crazy sardine-packed. There was this sliding garage door pulled down at the front. When it finally came up for Paul, he was sitting in a black suit with little tie-die circles on it wearing a baseball jersey style shirt and his dark blue tinted glasses and sitting momentarily on a beat up couch (probably just one the staff will keep or use in their break room). He had about 4 different guitars on stands nearby and a twin mic setup (one vintage style the other modern style like a Shure SM58) that were close to one another. For the first song he had on a red Gibson ES335 (just like Chuck Berry's if you are into guitars). Here's the set list as best as I could recall it (yes, somebody was taping the hsow on a mini-Disc so you might even be able to get a dupe of this later and correct me) and little asides interjected as they came up: "Best Thing That Never Happened" Paul: "Thanks, think I'll do another one off the flop before last" "Lookin' Out Forever" - this one kind of flowed into another song that I didn't quite recognize that I think Paul said was about a girl he knew before ending with a brief quote of the chorus of "Once Around The Weekend" Paul noticed a couple of people in the audience and said "Is that you? Nice to see ya." and even acknowledged the sound of the baby in the back ("Is this cool? Should we do something a little quieter?") "Waiting For Somebody" "No Place For You" "Only Lie Worth Telling" was only done in part. Paul's guitar was out of tune and he just wasn't digging it I guess so he quit, moved the twin wintage/modern microphones apart on the stage and that started into Dylan's "All I Really Wanna Do" facing sideways where he sang the verses into the modern mic and the choruses into the vintaged mic. This is the kind of highlight of the show in terms of accentuating that whimsical/unpredictable aspect of Paul and the Mats live where they would always do something daring that nobody predicts or expect. At this point he kind mubled something about "sucking" (half of his side- comments were not made into the mic so if you were not standing right next to him you would not know what he was saying), Paul seems more focused and determined to up the performance level for the next couple of songs and even said something to the effect of "gonna play a couple more off the new one, and then maybe I'll do a couple of the old ones." This one was followed by the usual stupid shouted requests for "Color Me Impressed", "Take Me Down To The Hospital" and then some other fans yelled for "First Glimmer" and one guy goes "Play whatever you want to play" which Paul at least seemed to snicker and laugh at (he even laughingly repeated the line to himself while tuning and adjusting his guitar and amp "play whatever I want" which made it all the more obvious that he found it amusing that people would even think he was somehow inclined to NOT play whatever he wanted to - especially for the price of admission ;-) This was followed by "Eyes Like Sparks" which Paul stated early on in the song that "this one really benefits from more backing" (Note for guitar players: this one is played in an open non-standard tuning around an A and a D chord if you are trying to learn it off the record in standard tuning, you will never get it.) This was followed by "We Are The Ones" (off of Stereo) and "Alex Chilton" in which he changed the punchline in the bridge to great effect ("never travel far...without a little... Ryan Adams") He then did "Let The Bad Times Roll" off the new one and I think he made reference to how it was his favorite off there. He then did a pseudo-encore (didn't quite leave the stage) but made some comment to "believe it or not, I had to call some people up to get the words to these ones" and did "I Will Dare" (inviting people to sing along on the chorus) and "Swingin' Party". He then left the stage and came back and for an encore did "Someone Take The Wheel" cutting it off a little early to say "okay, I think I'm done playing now" The good news is that Paul did signings afterwards and true to his promised word via the staff's announcement he stayed and signed for every single person who waited (note: he would sign any 2 items, but 1 of them had to be the new record). It took 45-60 minutes to get through the line and I was near the end but Paul was really nice and shook my hand. FWIW, my impression is he was a little nervous (I almost thought he had a tipped a couple of drinks before he went on but that's arguable given his history with and without the bottle and the fact that he might have found it more relaxing to just *act* a little drunk at first to excuse any mistakes he made like forgetting the words to songs and flubbing a chord change or two and he definitely) and very sloppy but he really does have a soft spot for his fans contrary to what I have seen people suggest otherwise. I got the feeling he was totally able to summon up those performance skills whenever he got kind of mad or embarassed by his slop and decided he wanted to focus a little more on the job at hand. J. B. Mahugh Date: Thu, 25 Apr 2002 10:28:07 -0700 (PDT) From: Thierry Cote Subject: the story of the San Francisco in-store... I don't know if you've read this already (it's taken from alt.music.replacements) - the heartbreaking tale of our Paul's dealings with a misguided, moronic, deserving-of-a-slow-painful-death heckler.... Thierry "I have a feeling that the San Francisco in-store will go down as one of the legendary Paul Westerberg performances, to take its place alongside all the Bob-in-a-dress, Paul-broke-his-finger, Chris passed-out-on-the-drum-stool stories that have been told and retold over the years. Luckily, or unluckily, I was one of the few who who got the complete picture of the beautiful/ugly episode and I'll try to pass it on with as much accuracy as I can muster. This is going to be long, but I thought it was a story worth passing on. Based on the reports from Seattle, I feared that I would have difficulties even getting in to the show at the Virgin Megastore, so I arrived about 3 hours early to buy my copy of Stereo and get my pass. They hadn't even set up the stage at that point and there was no sign of rabid PW fans anywhere, so I went out to get something to eat. I called my sister who had seen the Portland show the night before and her report sort of squelched a little of my enthusiasm. She said that she actually had a hard time watching him clearly struggling onstage in front of an audience that was relentlessly calling out old Mats tunes. By her count, he only finished four or five songs in the hour that he was onstage, and as she witnessed his exit to a backroom where he promptly laid flat on his back in exasperation, she realized that she wasn't going to be able to bear meeting him face to face. I returned to Virgin a little over an hour before showtime and there were exactly ten people standing in front of the small stage. I'm not saying that this is going to be the case for every show on this tour, but there was no line, you really didn't need to buy the CD at that particular store to get in, and to top it all off, the "pass" that was handed out with the purchase of the CD meant absolutely nothing. I never even took it out of my pocket. After milling around the store for a half hour, I figured I'd better get in position. It was around 45 to 30 minutes to showtime and there were around thirty people around the stage area. With the the next ten minutes or so, the crowd multiplied, and by 5:00 there were maybe 100 to 200 folks waiting for Paul to take the stage. At one point I heard an employee say that they were expecting 800 people. A few minutes later, another employee said that they only sold 150 copies of Stereo. You do the math. Paul was about 15 minutes late when some guys behind me became restless and started yelling out Goo Goo Dolls song titles. I only half heard what was going on, but it was clear that their behavior had started a minor argument with some other folks. Paul came out a few minutes later, wearing a beige suit covered in paint splotches, a bright green western-style shirt, bowling shoes and shades. He recognized a group of three or four guys who had caught the Seattle and Portland shows (I didn't talk to them, but I overheard them talking about the trek) and said, "No, not you fuckers again. I'm sick of looking at you guys." The moment Paul picked up his guitar, I was shoved hard from behind. (Keep in mind that the crowd really isn't that big, and everyone has a generous amount of personal space.) He had his arms folded and pressed into my back, so I turned around and said, "Are you going to hug me?" "What?" he mumbled without moving back. "You want to take a few steps back or do you planning on hugging me the whole show?" He looked at me for a few long seconds, apparently not noticing that I was a head taller, and said, "Only if you buy me a drink, bitch." Paul kicked into a laid back rendition of The Best Thing That Never Happened and I stared this idiot down until he became uncomfortable enough to take a step back. I wasn't going to miss the show because of some jackass who wanted to rub up against me, even though the urge to headbutt him was almost irresistible. Next, Paul comfortably slid into Lookin' Out Forever and I felt somebody push my shoulder aside. I turned around again and glared at him for a really long time, just trying to fight the urge to kill. My wife put her arm around me and told me not to kill him until the show was over. I turned back around and felt someone grab her arm and yank it off me. I spun around ready to spit blood, and saw her fists in the air about to swing. It happened fast, but apparently the idiot's friend thought that her arm was his, and in trying to stop a fight he pulled it away. He apologized profusely and wisely moved his friend about 5 feet to the side of me. I put it out of my mind as Paul moved into a medley of Eyes Like Sparks and Dylan. He kept muffing the lyrics to the Dylan song (I can't even think of the title, so I understand) and interjected, "There's only one good line anyway." He seemed in really good spirits and quickly eased into a confident and a relatively flub-free set of Mats classics and new and recent solo tunes. There wasn't a whole lot of chatter between songs and he really seemed to be giving his all. It was a really emotionally charged performance, with many lump-in-the-throat moments. Unfortunately, my antagonizer decided to start heckling. The first thing he yelled--after Paul flubbed the Dylan lyrics--was "Play something you know!" After Paul spat out a few lines of some UK (he sang with a British accent) punk song that I probably should know but don't, the idiot yelled out, "Play something you know that's good!" Paul was clearly pissed off at that point, but brushed it off and took it in stride. The guy just kept up the heckling, though. He talked and laughed through the quietest songs and kept screaming out completely moronic comments. For instance, when Paul started playing Swinging Party, the guy decides to break the spell by screaming, "Is this one of those Replacements songs?" After a tremendously moving rendition of Lush and Green, where Paul added heartbreaking lyrics that explicitly detailed the suicide of a friend ("She ended her life as best she could/That morning in Emily Woods"), I thought that the heckler was shut up for good, but he yelled something idiotic and some real anger flashed across Paul's face as he said, "I still know how to fight." Paul glared at him to let him know that he was serious, and unbelievably, the guy actually muttered, "I better shut up now." Unfortunately, he did not shut up. Just a couple songs later and he was talking to his buddies, laughing at Paul's most emotional moments, and occasionally belting out some out of tune lyrics (I should point out that the show was very quiet and the rest of the audience listened in complete silence--followed by enthusiatic applause of course). When Paul went to the side of the stage to change from his dark shades to some light blue-tinted glasses, the idiot yelled, "Rock star!" Paul, still trying to keep his good humor, stepped up to the mike and said, "That's rock and roll star." Everyone applauded and when it got quiet again he added, "Actually, I just wanted to see who was heckling me," and shot another long stare in the asshole's direction. Again, this idiot muttered something about it being "time to shut up before I get my ass kicked." And again, he apparently couldn't control himself. Paul started playing Someone Take the Wheel on his hollow body, but after the first verse it was clear that the guitar was tuned wrong. "This is fucking F," he said as he took the guitar off and handed it to his tech guy. He strapped on an acoustic and picked up the wrong amp cord. His roadie tried to get his attention and give him the right cord, but Paul was a little too frustrated to see what was going on. At that point, the guy behind me yelled, "That was a real Sonny Bono move!" For a split second, Paul looked like he was going to fight back with another joke, but instead he got pissed. "Sonny Bono? That's it," he said as he flung down his guitar. He bolted off the stage, broke right through the movie theater-style barricade between him and audience and went straight for this asshole. I involuntarily exclaimed, "Exactly! Thank you!" as Paul shot past me and wrapped both hands around the guy's neck. He throttled him one quarter-jokingly/three quarters-roughly for a few seconds, then pulled one hand back to punch him in the face. He stopped short, and with one hand wrapped firmly around the guy's neck he slapped him hard across the face. Paul turned quickly and stormed away from the stage and up the escalator. The crowd was completely silent and Paul clearly muttered, "Thanks, Bob," as he made his way to the second floor. When he was halfway up the escalator and it was clear that he was going, the crowd burst into applause, no doubt hoping that they could coax him back. Paul waved over the railing and disappeared upstairs. Everyone fell completely silent and turned accusingly to the asshole, who was beet red. I couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or inflamed from Paul's all too gentle beating, but this guy was frozen in his tracks. In the dead silence I called out, "He's right here if anybody wants to kick his ass!" As a small, but solid, guy pushed his way through the crowd, I thought it was going to happen, but he just got right up in his face, poked him hard in the chest and said, "Get up on that stage and apologize to everyone. Right now!" The heckler sheepishly walked up to the stage, but the roadie started yelling at him to get off and then gave him another push back into the crowd. The same audience member got right up in his face again and snarled, "Apologize." "I tried," the moron said weakly. For some reason, he and his two friends just stood shell-shocked while everyone else looked on, most of them trying to figure what exactly had just happened. His friends decided to slowly usher him out, and since I felt that the asshole hadn't been humilated enough, I yelled out to the silent crowd, "Somebody's got to kick his ass on the way out!" Well, nobody did, and I'm actually glad for that since I'm usually not such an instigator, but I did feel that the memory of the public humiliation he suffered would prevent him from proudly retelling "Paul Westerberg kicked my ass" stories for the rest of his life. Everyone shook their heads and started to shuffle off, certain that Paul was gone for good. A Virgin employee announced that Paul would be signing on the second floor and most of us headed up the escalator, not really expecting to get anything signed or shake the hand of the man who had just put on such an amazing/horrible/beautiful/painful/hilarious/pissed off performance. We all sort of naturally fell into a long line in front an empty table, and soon there was an announcement that Paul was "calming down" and would be out in a few minutes. As I expected, the concept of the signing passes was pretty ill-conceived. Nobody could really enforce the rule that "those with passes go first" and nobody even really tried. Everyone fell into line as they came up the escalator and there were no arguments as far as I could see. Of course, most everyone was trying to process what had happened, and I had to tell the whole story a number of times as more and more people tried to gather all the details. Paul waited long enough for the general mood of the crowd to change, and my little section of the line discussed how the SF show was probably just as long as the other shows and probably better in many ways. He eventually shambled out and took a seat in front of a corner window. It took me about 20 minutes to get up to the front and I saw that Paul was clearly having a difficult time. This was no normal CD signing. Many people took just a few seconds to say a few words and have him sign the disc, but there were many others who engaged Paul for a decent length of time. A few people in front of me had what appeared to be some lengthy heart-to-hearts. Paul became fully engaged with these people and was clearly willing to speak to anyone for as long as they wanted. Nobody seemed to take advantage of this, but as some people left the table, Paul was very emotional and needed to take a few moments to rub his eyes and take a deep breath. The kid in front of me moved in very close to Paul and after only a few moments of speaking, Paul rose from his seat, gently cradled the back of the boy's head and kissed him on the cheek. Paul sat back and spoke with him for a few minutes before my turn was up. I waited a few seconds as he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He looked up at the Virgin employee who was guiding the line and gave a look that said, "This is getting tough." I decided to lighten his load with an enthusiastic handshake. "I had your back, man," I said jokingly. "What?" He was still in a bit of an emotional fog. "I had your back. We could've taken him." He chuckled and rolled his eyes. "There's always one asshole. What are you gonna do?" "Well, I thought slapping him was a damn good idea," I said. I introduced him to my wife and he took my CD out of my hands to sign. We told him what a beautiful performance it was as his pen hovered over my disc trying to place the best spot to sign his name. Instead of signing it, he leaned back and said, "Well, the sound was much better here than at the other two shows, that's for sure." He was obviously willing to hold a relaxed conversation, with no pressure to move on to the next one in line, but I only wanted to thank him and shake his hand, so he signed my disc and we were on our way. I was really impressed with how open and genuine he was with the fans. On the ride home, listening to Stereo for the first time, I recognized the same openess and genuine sentiment that I had seen in person. He's obviously a troubled man, which makes his empathy and williness to connect on a personal level with his troubled fans all the more impressive. It was an amazing show." From: "Witalka, Cathy" Date: Thu Apr 25, 2002 4:05 pm Thanks to: Duncan DeGraffenreid This is about the SF instore and was posted to another list I'm on. I was at Virgin in San Francisco yesterday as well. Saw the whole ruckus go down six feet in front of me. I was as pissed off as anyone (save Paul, maybe), as I'd been waiting five-and-a-half years for Paul to come back to SF. And it was sullied (I won't say ruined, since we got to hear killer versions of Lush and Green, Sadly Beautiful, Someone Take the Wheel, and best of all, Swinging Party) by an obvious penny-ante heckler whose rudeness and desire to show off his comic appeal for his buddies -- and the rest of us who were there -- cut short something a lot of us had been looking forward to for a long, long time. My perspective on the whole affair is probably a bit different than that of most attendees, because I had the pleasure of running into the offending halfwit at Amoeba a couple hours after it happened. (I had made plans to meet my girlfriend over there at 7:30, without knowing that A) Mark Eitzel was doing an in-store there, or B) Uncle Heckle himself was going to be on hand.) I was bummed after what happened at Virgin, and I hadn't really gotten over my disappointment by the time I was futzing around the bins at Amoeba, so it was sorta serindipitous I ran into the guy (his name's Rob) while there. It was a charged, if boringly non-violent exchange between us. I simply gave him the whole "I don't appreciate that / what the hell were you thinking?" what-for, and took care to not make it personal or anything childish like that. The guy had booze on his breath, and repeatedly made pathetic attempts to cast the blame for the aborted show on Westerberg. Rob talked about how Westerberg was his "hero," and how his living room was a "shrine" to the singer-songwriter. My main reply was pretty much, "Funny way to treat your idol." His arrogance was alarming, his indignancy disgusting. He talked of Replacements shows back in the day when audience members would make constant remarks to the band and "usually get a cool cover out of it." Then he started playing that whole I'm-a-bigger-'Mats-fan-than-you card, and that's when I figured it was time to cut things short before it descended into a shitstorm of lame invectives. I immediately concluded the exchange by saying as politely as possible, "We're just have to agree to disagree on this, Rob. You've got your warped perspective, and I've got disappointment and, unfortunately for you, the truth." Then I went and flipped through 7" disco singles for ten minutes, just to cool down. I ran into Peter Jesperson and got to tell him the whole story. He didn't have much to say about it. hugs, Charles From: "Witalka, Cathy" Date: Thu Apr 25, 2002 5:15 pm Subject: FW: RE: another PW/SF review.... before i go on, let me say that paul westerberg's music has had a _profound_ effect on me. he's one of my musical heroes -- no one can open a vein like him -- and being able to see him in such an intimate setting and meet him afterward is an experience that i will hold dear. if you don't like that sentiment or PW, fine - press Delete now. but have some respect for others, please. it's in short supply these days. so. i got to virgin at 3 pm yesterday and was shocked to find only 4 other people hanging around the stage. i easily plunked myself down directly in front of the stage and, as the place filled up, met a bunch of other fans, including 3 or 4 young guys next to me who were following paul on this tour. they were all about 20 years old and had never seen him before. one of them brought a guitar for paul to sign. about a half hour before the show started, i noticed the loser -- he was two people behind me and was already yelling. as i said, the guy reeked of alcohol. westerberg began in good spirits. after he'd finish a song, he would sort of smile to himself, as if he were happy with how things were going. his mistakes didn't bother me, as he handled them with humor and the usual self-deprecation. it reminded me of aimee mann's shows a few years ago at largo in LA -- she kept forgetting songs and lyrics but was so funny about it that it didn't matter. unfortunately, i can't remember too many songs that he played, because the abrupt ending shorted out my memory for a while. he did play a few songs from stereo (which i love) including "no place for you," which segued into a dylan song ("all i want to do" -- not sure if that's the name). the highlight of the show, however, was a riveting, soulful performance of "sadly beautiful," which had me close to tears, followed by an equally great version of "swinging party" which he played in a different time signature. his little nod to bob during the solo was sweet. the ending was surreal. i don't know how he didn't knock me over when he plowed through the barricade. at first i thought it was a joke or part of the act... it bore a strange resemblance to a replacements show i saw eons ago in new haven, where someone onstage (paul? can't remember) jumped into the crowd right in front of me. i got a giant bruise out of that incident. i was luckier this time. those of us who stuck around after the show were not even sure if he would come out for the signing. as we stood in line, a virgin employee gave each of us a yellow sticky and told us to write down what we wanted paul to write on our stuff. "great," i thought, "he's so pissed he's not even going to talk to anyone." but he was extremely gracious and cool, posing for photos and talking to each person. i don't think anyone bothered with the stickies after all... he signed my Let It Be album jacket, which is going to get framed, and i gave him an advance copy of my CD. he left me with a comment that has me still scratching my head... either someone on here forwarded him my contribution to the "shoes unda' " thread (come on, 'fess up!), or he's just a salty ol' flirt. anyhoo. yesterday's show was something rare -- i doubt we'll ever get to see him in such a setting again. i waited 9 years to see westerberg again, and though part of me still wants to wrap my hands around that idiot's neck, he couldn't ruin it for me. missy From: paddington@earthlink.net (Mike) Newsgroups: alt.music.replacements Subject: San Francisco review Date: 24 Apr 2002 20:59:48 -0700 Just got back from SF Virgin Megastore show. I got there about 3 hours early (he started around 5:30) A pretty good crowd had formed by the time he started. He sounded awesome and seemed stoked on the sound (said it was the best sound of any of the gigs so far). I saw a bunch of people writing down setlists so the 'correct order' should be posted shortly. Some new tunes were played (Sadly Beautiful, Got You Down)...some of the others were: Best Thing That Never Happened Lookin' Out Forever Lush and Green All I Really Wanna Do (he went into this from another song...I'm going blank right now) Eyes Like Sparks Let The Bad Times Roll Swinging Party Someone Take the Wheel...he started this one on the Gibson electric but it was in the wrong key and he couldn't sing it so he stopped...then some idiot (who had been semi-heckling Paul since the git go) cracked that it was a 'Sonny Bono' moment..Paul (who was now strapping on an acoustic) muttered 'Sonny Bono'???? then threw down the guitar, jumped into the crowd and grabbed the guy jokingly...but he was actually quite pissed off...got back on stage and said that was it. I think he was going to play a lot longer but because of this dope's comment... that was it. Everyone kinda stood there stunned for a bit wondering if he'd come back - he didn't. But he still signed stuff later for everyone there and was really cool with everyone who waited in line. I had my Replacements ticket stub from the last gig they did here in San Francisco..Jan 16th 1991 at the Warfield. When Paul saw it he did a double-take, put his glasses on and checked it out. He told me what a weird night that was for a gig (the Gulf War started that night)...people were rioting in on Market Street and smashing windows etc...He also remembered smashing his SG in half that night...then he smiled and started laughing. Made my night.... Funniest moment was during one of the real mellow tunes (or 'Death songs' as he called them) He ended the tune by hollering 'TURN THAT FUCKING THING OFF'...the Virgin Store was playing the video documentary thing from Suicane on all the store monitors...Paul joked that he was going to call his lawyers about it. -Mike From: sinewwave@aol.com (Sinew Wave) Newsgroups: alt.music.replacements Date: 26 Apr 2002 05:08:10 GMT I just got back from the LA Amoeba Music In Store. Here's a rundown of the highlights. At 5:05 I arrive and miss out of two (count em two) metered parking spaces right next to the place. Anyway, I find another space in the Amoeba parking lot. I walk in and see people gathering around the stage, but there is still a place for me to nab up front near center, so I'm happy as a clam!! Paul comes out late around 7:35, which was really dragging on..but it's free so. Anyway he did a similar set list as the other in store performances except: The Featured Mats classic along with Swingin' Party was....are you ready for this???? "Unsatisfied". The last line when Paul sang "Long me in the eye, and tell me (if you see anything), he ripped off the glasses and tossed them to the floor of the stage, and stared at the audience for a moment. It was dramatic. And the rare cover was "Jumpin Jack Flash". He played nearly an hour. 55 minutes I think. It flew by and felt like 25 minutes, but I think it was almost an hour. There was a guy next to me up front that Paul recognized from the other in store performances. This 18 year old fan went to every show from SF to LA. During the singing, Paul asked him if he'd see him in NY? And the guy said no, I can't afford that one. Paul replied that he'd pay his way if he was loaded. I asked this guy about the show compared to the others, and he said that this was the best one. More energy, larger crowd, just better feel about the thing. But of course LA did not get to hear some of the Mats songs Portland, SF, and Seattle did. All and all, very good! Not perfect, but good. The size of the attendees, says something about Paul's following in LA. There must have been close to 1,000 people there. I'm not over stating it. This is the largest record store in the world, and it was packed. I got my two rarest Mats things signed. The "German only" LP release of "All Shook Down" w/ a red marker looks very cool. And my prized Mats collectable, a UK 45 Test Pressing of "Swingin' Party" b/w Waitress In The Sky". The labels on this single were all white with no lettering at all. So I had Paul write out the titles on both sides, and (westerberg) under the titles, and The Replacements on the bottom section of the white label. On side he wrote simply "The Mats" the other side "The Replacements". The neat thing about this single is that according to everything I have ever read on Mats singles, it never was released. Paul looked somewhat amused while signing it. I told him I was going to put it in my Juke Box, and how many people have Swingin Party on their Juke Boxes? Paul said he'd wanted to get one (a Juke Box) at some point. I will have to post scans of this one, as I think it is so cool now!!!! Jeff Date: Tue, 30 Apr 2002 16:29:33 -0700 (PDT) From: f to the l to the y-n-n Subject: and i don't know where we're goin' so. i've got a new wordpad file open and ready to actually start writing a paper, but it isn't happening, just as it hasn't been for days now. it would be a lot less stressful if i just stopped thinking and just started *doing* the work. on sunday night, as i went straight from work to westerberg instore, i figured that at least i'd be coming straight home from [work at] spinart on monday. but he ended up spending that time on sunday night sitting in the detroit airport; i ended up going out for coffee with jane instead. and we ended up having this conversation about "philosophy people" as i expressed the usual misgivings about the fact that i have no idea what the hell i'm doing as i watch all of my friends sort of steer themselves into different but actual paths and i straddle some invisible aisle as i watch people i know marry what they call the real world. (come fall, little kids will be calling my friend kami "ms. arnold"; i realized this today and just sat there with my mouth open...) i spend my days surrounded by the books and the "regulars" of the philosophy department; i take notes and i do the reading and i spend real time thinking about all of this stuff. but i don't do what most of these people seem to be doing; i don't honestly "do philosophy." i don't come home to an apartment filled with philosophy books and some lit crit for variation, and i don't usually sit around after hours discussing these issues by the fire, or whatever. i come home to a room filled with what i refer to as my fifteen-year-old-soul, band posters all over the walls and show tickets that i've saved and my record collection and my guitar and my saw and the goddamn stereo that never works when i want it so i end up listening to the same husker du tape all night. i never feel comfortable speaking and i might never; i never feel like anything but a little kid pretending when i'm sitting in a lecture hall listening to someone speak. i don't make friends, i make mix tapes, and if you don't understand what i'm trying to say in the way that i've laid out the songs for you, then you may never understand what i'm trying to say ever. and i can't remember anything special about "the american evasion of philosophy", though i read it only a week ago, but i still know all the words to the kansas album "masque" that i loved when i was five. and so anyway last night i did what i do best, especially during finals: i ignored the work in favor of the rock and i returned to the virgin megastore and laughed at the fact that they make you actually wear the pass around your neck and that they were playing "september gurls" on the main level and "alex chilton" downstairs and that there was this huge and unlikely-looking crowd down there already; jane and i wove our way into the middle of it until we both realized that neither of us could see anything but the heads in front of us - we moved to the side and spent the whole time on our tiptoes with our necks craned to see that there really was a face attached to that voice. i felt like i shouldn't be there. i felt like i always do after attaching certain songs and certain moments to certain people, and i don't care how many times you tell me i'm not, i felt like a retard for being the one with this newfound puppy love and for once not the girl who could tell you the band's entire discography if you asked, singles and all. i felt like a bigger retard for being the kind of person who feels weirded out when they go somewhere with someone they don't know well enough to be able to know what they're thinking at a show. and then he started playing (and finally we get to the relevant part.) and i just stood there with my mouth open. there are people, and then there are *people*. there are people who are so entirely and incredibly themselves that they could never not be - the kind who will say something and you just shake your head and think, "that is such a you thing to say." those kinds of people. i fucking love those kinds of people, who are so incredibly themselves and in their own skin; i'm lucky to have a number of them as my friends. i surround myself with these kinds of people and in time they make me feel more comfortable in my own skin, like music does. which is why i guess it was doubly powerful that when paul westerberg opened his mouth and started to sing, the voice that came out was so undeniably incredibly his. and he stopped in the middle of songs and started laughing and forgot the words and changed into another song in the middle of the first, and he made half-intelligible jokes and took some requests and laughed at others, and he did everything that paul westerberg is supposed to do. and for three minutes of wonder, the guy in front of me shifted so that i had this little window of actually being able to see him so that i could tell that it was actually happening and he was really playing "alex chilton" and i was there. (at one point jane turned to me and said, "you know, that bald guy in front of us is taking this *way* too seriously." and i thought "then what does that make me?!") i go to so many shows, and more and more it seems like i'm not as enchanted with them as i should be; the band will be playing and i'll be thinking about dinner, or something. and lately i've been completely and totally freaked out over i don't even know what - life and rent and stasis and awkwardness and boys in cowboy hats and sociability and my headaches and papers and money and all of the stuff that i always say doesn't matter and doesn't bother me - and when that happens, it bleeds into everything and it's harder than hell to dig yourself out of context. but for an hour and ten minutes i completely forgot about all of that stuff and the fact that i thought about not going because i had stuff i needed to do, and all i did was stand there and listen. and god, i needed that. (i told sienna yesterday that i'm tired of living but so incredibly in love with life, and this is exactly what i meant.) in the middle of "if only you were lonely" he stopped and forgot a verse and started again and made up the words until everyone else was singing for him, and i wondered what it's like to be the voice of so many people. and all around me there were all of these other people, and *they* were all standing there with *their* mouths open, and it was weird and magical and then he played "sadly beautiful". and "someone take the wheel" almost made me cry in public which is the one thing that i just won't do, and even the new grandpaboy songs sounded every bit like they were supposed to even though he morphed from eyes like sparks into at least two different songs that i didn't know before actually finishing it, and i hadn't expected his songs to sound much better live. i hadn't expected him to be as completely him as he was. and i've never seen such a herd of people just standing and clapping and clapping and clapping after someone went off stage before even after it was apparent that he wasn't coming back. and for an hour and ten minutes i forgot i was living and i just felt alive, and i appreciate that. and i am so in love with the fact that i can still find bands and records that make me as happy as the ones that i've loved for years and that i could go somewhere and not only just see someone amazing play, but see people around me who are there because they think it's amazing too and not because they're concerned about their cred. -s. "it was like having the worst hangover of all time...and then wearing someone else's glasses." From: LaraLooooo@aol.com Date: Thu, 2 May 2002 22:26:25 EDT Subject: Thank You, Skyway!!!! I just want to say thanks to you, Matt, for putting together the Skyway Website, and putting out the newsletter... if it weren't for your newsletter, I would NEVER have found out about Paul's tour, and his appearance at the Boston Virgin Megastore. I live about an hour south of Boston, so of course I went! What can I say??? It was... amazing... I honestly didn't know if I would ever get the chance to see him perform live. So it was soooo cool to have it be a FREE show, and in a small venue. I managed to squeeze my way right up front, albeit to the side, so I was actually to the right of the stage, so I had a side view of him the whole time, but oh well! It was absolutely amazing... and he seemed to be really having fun the whole time. He forgot the words to a few songs, and he actually had us finish singing 'Skyway' for him, because he left out the part about 'stupid hat and gloves'. He kinda started laughing, and I swear he looked right at me (okay so maybe it was more like just in my general direction, but...) and said, "Sing, Goddamn it!!". After the show, he went up to the 3rd floor to sign autographs. Now, the way it was supposed to go was that everyone was supposed to go up the escalator and form a line that way, and he was to come up in the elevator, and commence the signing. But I am disabled and use a wheelchair, and, well... Well let's just say that I've tried the whole 'wheelchair-on- an-escalator' thing, and it's just too damned scary!! So I used the elevator, and the store staff told me I could just wait right there, rather than going all the way around to get at the end of the line. I was there no more than 5-10 minutes when the elevator opened, and I hear this voice saying, "Right over here?", and sure enough, Paul himself walked right past me (lit cigar in hand... I thought something smelled funny when he walked past...), and sat himself down at the table. And good lord, you could have knocked me over with a feather when the store staff told me "Go ahead". I didn't know they were going to let me be first! I must admit... I kind of flubbed this one. I think I turned into a total moron, being this close to the man whose music has meant more to me than anything else in the world. I wheeled up there, kind of looked at him, he looked at me. I mumbled, "Hi". He hesitantly said, "Hi, how are ya?" I think I said I was good, then he said, "Could ya see okay?" I mumbled "Yeah, I was fine, it was great...". Then I just slid my copy of Stereo onto the table, not knowing what else to say or do, and he just kind of looked at it... I realize now he was waiting for me to make some sort of request as to what to write- like, 'Could you make it out to Lara'? But I didn't... I was too dumbfounded. So he finally just scrawled his name. I mumbled 'thanks' about 3 times, and at the last minute, I offered him my hand. He shook it without any hesitation, and it was actually a much firmer, longer-lasting handshake than I had expected. I then, after mumbling my thanks again, took my leave of the signing area, in a complete stupor, and kicking myself for not saying more or asking him to make it out to me. I think I remember reading somewhere on one of these websites or message boards, where someone said that they were surprised to discover that Paul has very soft hands. It's true. His hand was very soft. Lara From: bobstinson@aol.com (Bobstinson) Newsgroups: alt.music.replacements Date: 02 May 2002 02:23:36 GMT Subject: Ann Arbor & Austin >From Vagrant's site: 05.01.02 WESTERBERG IN-STORE TOUR cut short "Due to exhaustion, we regret to inform you that we have been forced to cancel the last two Paul Westerberg in stores at Waterloo Records in Austin, Texas and at Borders Books & Music in Ann Arbor, Michigan. This is in no way the fault of either store and we apologize for any inconvenience or disappointment." - Paul Westerberg's Management Vagrant will be doing all we can to see that Paul's fans are compensated and we hope to reschedule both in stores in the near future. Thank you for your continued support of Paul Westerberg and Vagrant. __________________________________________________________________________ III. From: dannyc12@bitstream.net (Dan Contreras) Newsgroups: alt.music.replacements Subject: Re: Letterman Date: 30 Apr 2002 07:06:44 -0700 > sjconro wrote in message news: > > Since there's a chance the extra guitar Paul hires could turn out to > > be a oneshot how about Slim? > cford@vnet.ibm.com (Charles Ford) wrote > Slim would be a great choice...I think he and Paul still get along. I > think I heard somewhere that Slim has a day job currently...All he > needs is a leave of absence for a few months. Paul and Slim do get along. I talked to Slim at the Turf Club for a while after his show on Saturday 4/27. He said Paul asked him to play, but that he didn't want to. Of course I tried to tell him that it would be fantastic if he did, but he just said "I don't wanna do the band thing again. They'll find someone to do it." He also mentioned that Paul had talked to him about the instores and how the autograph signings are difficult for him. I don't know if they discussed this before or after the SF incident. Slim said "I told him I don't fucking care if you have to sit there for five fucking hours - you sign every autograph and shake every hand!" Slim's show was excellent, by the way. Lot of people dancing and just having a good time in general. Get down there to see him if you get a chance, the Turf is one of the best Twin Cities music venues. Date: Wed, 24 Apr 2002 13:18:33 -0400 From: "Frank Esposito" Subject: westerberg Wall Street Journal item Former Replacements frontman Paul Westerberg was featured on the front page of the Marketplace section of the Tuesday (4/23/02) edition of the Wall Street Journal. The article's about aging rockers - including Westerberg, Steve Earle, Carole King and Tom Scholz of Boston - signing with smaller record labels to have more artistic control. Westerberg is quoted in the story, which is accompanied by a mid-90s-era publicity photo and a shot of the cover of his new album, Stereo. He's also given the final word in the story with the classic quote : "I'm a difficult creep and I won't change my stripes." Next up, former Husker Du frontman Bob Mould will discuss the virtues of his 401k retirement fund in the May issue of Forbes. From: "J" Newsgroups: alt.music.replacements Subject: Re: Paul in Wall St. Journal A synopsis of the WSJ article: Paul received an advance of $150,000 from Vagrant with a promise that they would release 'Stereo' as is. Paul said, "I'm in the best possible position I've ever been in my life." He's urged Vagrant to spend as little as possible on marketing and promoting until he sees how initial sales fare. From: unionwells2002 Sent: Tuesday, April 23, 2002 2:54 PM Subject: Paul in the LA Times Thanks to: Duncan DeGraffenreid Tuesday, April 23, 2002 POP MUSIC Crash, Burn and Rise Again After considering his storied career pretty much over, Paul Westerberg finds himself in a new album. By RICHARD CROMELIN, Times Staff Writer "I'm a lot more relaxed this time around and not as caught up in it," Paul Westerberg says of his return. It's not that he's a glutton for punishment, but Paul Westerberg is back for another round. Whether it ends in more rejection, in long-overdue glory or, most likely, something in between, one thing's sure: The days of corporate record business frustration are behind him. Thanks for the memories. "I kept waiting for lightning to strike and something magical to happen with my life that didn't happen," says Westerberg, talking amiably at a West Hollywood hotel, drinking cappuccino and smoking a cigar, a notable contrast with what he smoked and drank in his wild youth. "On the last record, I knew I wasn't going to tour, and it felt like the end of something," he says. "Not to get too deep, but it felt like the end of my musical career, or Chapter 1 was put to a rest...I got rid of my lawyer and manager and everyone. It felt very refreshing to have no one to tell me what to do or to suggest what to do. I had only myself, and it was as if I was 17 again with a fresh slate." It rarely comes to that for artists with the credentials of Westerberg, who led his star-crossed band the Replacements out of Minneapolis on a spectacular crash-and-burn career across the 1980s' post-punk landscape. In an echo of the famous Velvet Underground syndrome, only a few thousand people bought their records, but it seemed as if every one of them started a band. Or wrote about the music. Or played the songs on college radio stations. It added up to a legend, and Westerberg crawled out of the wreckage at the start of the '90s as a consensus great American songwriter and true-cause rock 'n' roll crusader, if a little heavy on the self- destruction. Westerberg's résumé bulged with lost-generation anthems such as "Bastards of Young" and the aching introspection of "Here Comes a Regular" (both from the Replacements' first major-label album, "Tim"), and fans figured he would get his due on his own. But despite being in fine form and on his best behavior, he watched his three big-label albums, first on Sire/Reprise, then Capitol, die increasingly rapid deaths. By the end, with his 1999 release "Suicane Gratifaction" selling just 52,000 copies, it was seeming a little futile. "I think he went through a period where he was kind of questioning what he was doing and where he stood in the music world after the disappointment of the last record," says Darren Hill, an old acquaintance who played bass on Westerberg's first solo tour and became his manager last year. "But that sort of fueled him to start recording on his own, and I think the results have encouraged him to follow his gut at this point." Those results come out formally today in the form of "Paul Westerberg Stereo," on the Los Angeles independent label Vagrant Records. The mostly acoustic collection comes with a bonus disc, "Mono," a more rocking companion album (under the pseudonym Grandpa Boy) that Vagrant originally released in a limited edition in February. Whether soft-boiled or hard-edged, Westerberg's music retains its signature melodic breeziness and effortless rise-and-fall shape. In his sometimes tough, sometimes tender character sketches and diary- like observations, he's again a voice of reassurance for those who have a hard time finding a place to fit in the world. The difference is the records' casual, intimate, spontaneous nature, reflecting their pressure-free creation in Westerberg's home studio in Minneapolis. The sound is unvarnished, and a couple of songs simply end in mid-verse. "I think that's what gives it character. We are putting out what he turned in," says Vagrant owner Rich Egan, whose label is stocked with young bands that are artistically indebted to Westerberg. "All those quote-unquote glitches, I think, are what make the record. It's a really grounded, homespun, honest record. Like the song that just stops, it's because the tape ran out. He was gonna play till the tape ran out, and that's what he did. It definitely sounds like it's lacking some big corporate ax hanging over his head." "The first reason I ever did it was for fun and my own entertainment, and it's come full circle," says Westerberg, who's extending that spirit with his album-launch tour, a series of free, fan-friendly solo performances in record stores, including Amoeba Music in Hollywood on Thursday. (He'll probably come back later with a band.) Famously reclusive and sometimes agoraphobic, still fighting his two longtime nemeses, anxiety and depression, Westerberg, 42, nonetheless seems comfortable as he sits in the hotel's dining patio overlooking the pool and a sweeping city view. He says he was in bed at 9 the night before, and the next morning he'll be flying home to his wife and 3-year-old son. "It's nice to be back. It is, actually. I'm a lot more relaxed this time around and not as caught up in it. I'm older and I know better.... I liked the notion of going to a label where there was a fresh enthusiasm rather than maybe a tired aspect of what Paul used to be, as opposed to what he's gonna be." What's he gonna be? He may be a Replacement again, for a while, if longtime guitar sidekick Tommy Stinson can free up time from the never-ending recording sessions of his current group, Guns 'N Roses, to tour with his old band-mate. What he's not about to be again is a great hope that didn't deliver. "Did I feel bitter? Worthless? Yeah, yeah," Westerberg says, recalling the darker days. "I blamed everyone, I blamed myself. Then I looked through my record collection, all the things that I like that never sold any records. How many records did Mott the Hoople ever sell? I still listen to that. "Who sells 9 million records and why? Is it because it's good? They sell records because they put the muscle behind them to make money. I'll make their money back tenfold, but it'll take 10 years. I'm not a cash cow that'll be gone tomorrow." Copyright 2002 Los Angeles Times http://newtimesla.com/issues/2002-04-25/music.html/1/index.html Off the 'Mats No, the Replacements aren't getting back together. Yet. BY BILL HOLDSHIP Paul Westerberg Details: April 25 Where: Amoeba Music, 6400 Sunset Blvd., Hollywood Most people in bands don't drink if they're serious and professional," Bono testified during Peter Buck's recent air rage trial -- and anyone who understands how absurd the words serious and professional are in connection to rock 'n' roll may also understand why the Replacements -- and not U2 or R.E.M. -- were the greatest rock 'n' roll band of the 1980s. Which would explain why the rumors were so appealing -- and so rampant -- when they started making the rounds in February and March. "Replacements reunion at South by Southwest!" read one of many such e-mails circulating in the weeks prior to the Austin music festival. "Paul, Tommy, Slim Dunlap and an unknown drummer with Dave Pirner from Soul Asylum!" For a core group of Replacements fans, the idea of a full-fledged 'Mats reunion is second (if at all) only to that impossible dream of the Beatles getting back together. But, alas, it wasn't to be. Nor was the more recent (and less exciting) rumor that leader Paul Westerberg would be joining Pirner and former Hüsker Dü leader Bob Mould on a sort of Minneapolis Super Postpunk tour. What is true is that Westerberg has embarked on his first-ever solo acoustic tour, performing free shows at record stores throughout the United States to support his first new album in three years, Stereo. The new album -- which comes packaged with a second CD, Mono, performed by Westerberg's currently more rockin' alter ego Grandpa Boy and released via the L.A.-based, punk-heavy indie label Vagrant -- is obviously what triggered all those hopeful reunion rumors in the first place. Except it wasn't completely a rumor. Sitting in a West Hollywood hotel bar, nursing a ginger ale, Westerberg admits that he did talk to Replacements bassist Tommy Stinson about joining him on a Midwest tour in February that would go to the same cities Buddy Holly was scheduled to play before his tragic 1959 plane crash. "The idea was sort of, it would be the revenge of Grandpa Boy arising from the grave," he says. "So I called Tommy [and said], "Can I tell you this is the stupidest thing I've ever thought of?' And he was like "Yeah!' His word was gold. Because Tommy knows my stupid ideas and he knows my stupid ideas that are potentially brilliant. Unfortunately, he called me back two days later and said he couldn't do it because his cohort [Axl Rose] needed him. So the idea lasted about half a minute. Dave Pirner did want to be part of it, but that thing's come and gone. Now I'm thinking of putting a band together that's a little more versatile than a bar band. But I figured at that time, if it was to be a bar band, it would have to be with Tommy. "Ah, Dave Pirner gets too much ink," Westerberg says of the other rumor, the one that had him, Pirner and Mould about to board a tour bus together. "I also just heard that I played great guitar with Dylan at the Grammys! "It's funny. By not doing anything, I'm as hot as I've been in 10 years. So do I want to ruin that by going out and doing stuff? But hell, I am. I'm talking to people. My picture is being taken. I'm alive. And I do live on a farm. I have one lung. I have AIDS. And I am a junkie." He laughs. "These are the ones that I love, that I covet the most. "The truth is, I was sick of it," Westerberg says of his career, "and I ran out of dough. So what did I do to entertain myself? I wrote a shitload of songs. When I made that last record [his third solo LP, 1999's Suicaine Gratifaction], I felt it was the end of something. I, of course, also had the pleasure of turning 40 on the last day of the century, and I really felt like "Well, that was that?' So I went home and waited for phase two to transpire, and nothing happened. I waited and waited for an idea -- and the idea became loud and clear: "Go out and buy a new guitar!' So I went out and bought a red one that looked really cool, and went down in the basement and played rock 'n' roll for three years. "I lost contact with everyone, sort of became a recluse. I also had a little boy" -- with longtime partner Laurie Lindeen, formerly of the Minneapolis rock trio Zuzu's Petals -- "although more has been made of that than should be." Westerberg may protest a bit too much. The new album kicks off with a track called "Baby Learns to Crawl." "Mr. Rabbit" is a Burl Ives song from one of Westerberg's son's favorite albums. And "We May Be the Ones" concludes with an appearance by three-year-old Johnny (as in John Paul) Westerberg, whose favorite song, his dad boasts, is currently the New York Dolls' "Trash." "But regardless of whether I had a child, or was married, or whatever, I still would've sat alone in a house for three years," he explains. "I was sick of it and I didn't want to play rock 'n' roll for people anymore. I was true to my word. I always said when it wasn't fun anymore, I'd quit. "It wasn't fun. I quit." After about 80 songs, Westerberg finally ran out of tape, which is what "finally got me off my ass." Rather than erasing material, he contacted friend Darren Hill (who played bass on the 14 Songs tour as well as with the Red Rockers and who now acts as Westerberg's de facto manager) and asked him if he wanted to take a listen. "Darren knew Rich [Egan] at Vagrant, and the idea of going back to a little label sounded kinda cool. [The rep for] being difficult is well-warranted, in my case. I am. I confess. I admit it now. I really couldn't see it at the time. But the truth is I'm really not equipped to do certain things that a big corporation requires you to do. And the Replacements were never equipped to do that. "Plus, the record probably cost me $1,000 to make. So whatever deal I made this time was the best deal -- times 300 -- I've ever made. Also," he laughs, "everyone [at the label] is 10 to 15 years younger than me so they actually listen to what I say!" The Father of Grunge, as he's often been described, says he's been jamming with a band that includes a steel guitar player, top Minneapolis jazz drummer Michael Bland, and bassist Jim Boquist of Son Volt -- but nothing's written in stone yet. "We have a country-folk thing going on the bass, this powerhouse R&B drummer, and I'm playing shitty little Keith Richard chords. It's different. And it doesn't sound anything like the Burritos," says the guy the Brits have credited as one of the fathers of alt-country/Americana (and who laughs when Ryan Adams' name is mentioned: "Well, my first idea was to say somebody should probably kick his teeth down his throat"). As for breaking up what many consider to be the most influential rock band of the '80s, Westerberg remains unapologetic. "It was obviously the right thing to do," he says in response to some fans and critics who viewed it as almost a betrayal. "I think the real fans knew it was time. And let's face it, the real fans are pretty old now. I mean, the ones who never saw it will never see it again. Because even if we got together, we could never be it. "But I've got a lot of interesting [video] footage that nobody's ever seen, and I've also got a whole lot of tapes that nobody's ever heard, so if there ever is a let's-go-to-the-bank-and-cash-in reunion, I'm ready. And make no mistake: That will be the reason. I mean, I wanted Tommy to come and play bass in February because he was the only guy in the world crazy enough to do it. But if the Replacements reunite, we would want to make a bundle of money to rectify being screwed for so many years. I never signed any contract with Twin/Tone or Restless -- I had a lawyer tell me our contract was worse than James Brown's from 1962 -- so if they think they're going to continue repackaging that stuff, I don't think so. I want to get all the records together under one label and do it that way. And there has been talk -- but it's still just that." Westerberg's lost touch with final Replacements guitarist Slim Dunlap (though not due to any animosity), but he's friendly again with the band's original drummer, Chris Mars. "But even if Chris didn't want to do [a reunion], I would still be comfortable with Tommy and whoever else we had. I've talked to him more and more over the last six months. I do have a long-range plan. I haven't even told it to myself yet, so don't expect a scoop here. But there is no Replacements without Tommy. We'd probably have to take [late guitarist Bob Stinson's] ashes up there, too." Tommy, of course, presently keeps busy (well, maybe not that busy) as the only consistent member of the new Guns N' Roses. "It's the most fun he'll never have," jokes Westerberg of the never-ending (and barely starting) Axl Rose project, adding, "Look, I'm supposed to be the one who made money from the Replacements. And I didn't make any money, so he damn sure didn't make any. How can you begrudge him making a living [with Axl]?" For now, then, it will remain Paul Westerberg, solo artist. "It's something I've always resisted doing," he says of the acoustic in-stores. "But I've got the Grandpa Boy thing -- if I want a rock 'n' roll band to play those, I've got that option. But right now, I can just hop on a plane, show up alone, and not be forced to tell anybody what to do. "Y'see, the beauty of Tommy and Chris was I never had to talk or explain it to them. I'd move my toe or my head and they'd just know. I've yet to really find that with another band." newtimesla.com | originally published: April 25, 2002 ©2002 New Times All rights reserved From: "Mark Hanson" Newsgroups: alt.music.replacements Subject: "Pop Quiz" interview with Paul POP QUIZ Paul Westerberg Ex-Replacements leader regains his punk spirit Aidin Vaziri, Special to The Chronicle Sunday, April 28, 2002 Paul Westerberg, 42, made his mark as the leader of the hugely influential and perpetually under-the-influence Replacements. Things haven't been easy since he went solo more than a decade ago -- sobering up, seeking therapy and releasing four albums on three labels. But with his latest independent release, "Stereo/Mono," Westerberg is back on his game. The double- disc set is an entirely homemade and self-played affair, punctuated by the same punk spirit associated with his former band. We met up with him on his current acoustic tour of record stores. Q: Last time we talked, you said you were never going to play live again. A: Maybe I'm dead. I never said I'm never going to play dead again. Q: That's good. A: Yeah. Part of me feels like I died. Something definitely feels like it's over. Maybe I'm just onto a different phase of my career. It's like I completed my first mission and it's somehow different now. I don't know. I'm --I don't know how you want to say it -- starting over? Brand new? Reborn? The same old f-- thing? Ran out of money? So it's a new era, perhaps. Q: What was wrong with the old era? A: Let's put it this way: I truly felt I fulfilled my destiny. My first childhood dream was to be in a great rock 'n' roll band or be a rock 'n' roll star or whatever. I really felt like that dream was realized and done and over. And then I went home and tried to relax. I tried to have a nervous breakdown, but then I learned something else, too -- I don't break, I tend to bend. Instead of being strong, I'm a wisp that tends to bend. Q: Did you figure that out through therapy? A: Yeah. I still go. I should have been going probably forever. It only took until I was, let's see, 38 years old until I finally got there. I'm like the guy who needs a pair of glasses but doesn't get them for 40 years. Q: So you spent 40 years metaphorically driving into trees? A: Exactly. And now I see the trees as I'm about to hit them and then I hit them anyway. But that's almost an illusion there to think that you go see a psychiatrist, they give you some drugs and you wake up and see the light, happy as a clam. It hasn't changed anything other than giving me a little more perspective on when I'm frightening people with my actions. Q: You have a way of gauging your dysfunction now. A: Yes. Although therapy does tend to mess with one's short-term memory. If you thought I was bad remembering lyrics before, wait until I get out there now. Q: You didn't make it easy, putting out 23 songs at once. A: Nope. I did the worst possible thing from a business-sensible standpoint. But I did the best possible thing from an artistic standpoint, which was put as many of my songs out in the world as I could, you know, because I believe in the songs more than anything. I do love songs. Some of my own and some other people's songs speak to me. Q: Do you ever listen to any new music? A: What's new? I prefer the blues, and I don't like the way modern blues records are recorded. Q: What is it about men hitting a certain an age and going nuts about the blues? A: Oh, I liked them all along. That's where you're wrong. It's like somebody who starts out taking cold pills and ends up on heroin. If you want to go to the bottom you go to the blues. It's the beginning and the end. I don't actively seek out music. If a tune catches my fancy on the radio then I'll listen to it, but I can't name the last one that did. I usually go by the person's voice. But I can't recall the last voice I heard that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. You know, because they all sound like me. Q: Do you hate all the bands that sound like the Replacements? A: That would be impossible for me, to spread that much ill will. I hate no one, but that doesn't mean I have to listen to them. Q: Is it hard living up to the myth you created around yourself? A: I don't walk around with the myth. I'm not even aware of what it may hold for two different people. I am always surprised when people meet me and are afraid of me in any way. That's about the only thing that baffles me -- this perception that Paul is tough or mean. I just have a low threshold for stupid people. Q: Speaking of which, did Winona Ryder steal anything from you when you were seeing her? A: Steal anything? My time. Q: I guess that's worth more than $5,000 at Saks. A: Yeah, I guess so. fin. ______________________________________________________________________________ The //Skyway\\: The Replacements Mailing List (digest only) http://www.theskyway.com ______________________________________________________________________________ "I like to pick up hitchhikers. When they get in the car I say, 'Put on your seat belt. I want to try something. I saw it once in a cartoon, but I think I can do it.'" - Steven Wright