Loading Events



Friday, March 13
Show | 9pm // Doors | 8pm
21+ SHOW


The Minneapolis-based synth-rockers [Solid Gold] — who were making gorgeously psychedelic hippie grooves before Tame Impala could afford its first Roland keyboard – are back with their first new song in six years. […] Singer Zach Coulter and his multi-instrumentalist bandmates Matt Locher and Adam Hurlburt are currently finishing off a record for release sometime next year. The first taste of it is a slow-bobbing tune titled “Towns,” which sounds like it could’ve also been used for the long-rumored second Gayngs album (the supegroup these guys also had a hand in).

“Towns” was recorded with production/engineering help from Josh Berg (who’s worked with Kanye and Mac Miller) and Ryan Olcott (ex-12 Rods frontman). Other details of the album have yet to be revealed. Coulter described the origins of the song this way: “”We started melding ‘Towns’ together in Matt’s basement. I had the synth top line and a basic structure. The lyrics came shortly after and are all about seducing the idea of ‘Faith’ as a person in order to destroy it.” [Chris Riemenschneider, Star Tribune]

Local Minneapolis darling Monica LaPlante plays a style of garage rock/garage pop loaded with class and charm. Her brutally honest lyrics prove that perfection lies in the art of simplicity. LaPlante's 2016 album, Noir, brings a much darker side to her repertoire, fueled by guitar-driven rockers and dark synthy ballads from the heart.

LaPlante’s transition from leaf on the wind to vamp on the prowl began pretty much instantaneously. Writing and recording the demo for darkside party banger “Hope You’re Alone” in a single night gave the artist enough momentum that nothing could stand in her way--for long.

As with her command of melody, the aptitude for depicting emotional nuance LaPlante showcases on “Can’t Stop” is gaining massive depth and resonance remarkably fast--especially when it comes to ambiguity. Even when she plays the budding libertine, as she does with flick-of-the-wrist ease on “Do That To Me,” she’s careful to let a little longing for something more seep through the cracks in her wall of benign indifference. Noir’s overarching affective backbone resides solely in LaPlante’s will to rock.