By: David de Young
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Michael Yonkers performs at the 7th Street Enty - Photo by David de Young (click for full-size)
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Recent press in The Star Tribune and the enthusiastic praises of my neighbor Clint Simonson enticed me to the Entry last night to see Michael Yonkers featured on a bill headlined by the Rank Strangers, but also boasting the latest local buzz-band Bridge Club.
Seeing Yonkers for the first time live, I absorbed so much I was tempted to head home right away just to get it all down on paper. I had come into the gig knowing only that he'd been making music since 1967, and that his erstwhile recording Microminiature Love had been shelved in 1968 by Sire Records only to turn up 35 years later first as a vinyl only release on Clint Simonson's Destijl Records then as a CD re-release this year by Sub Pop.
As Yonkers took the stage unassumingly around 10 p.m. the small but building crowd edged closer to the stage. Immediately noticeable were his sawed-off guitar and homemade tower amplifier. From the first song I noted his seemingly crazy, but accurate fretting of this custom guitar that was yielding a sound unlike I'd ever heard, something like Black Sabbath - with nearly the punch of a stadium show - but coming from one guy. His singing was straight ahead and bluesy at times, a perfect compliment to the fuzz-based music in which if you listened closely you could always hear what amounted to an ethereal harmonic somewhere deep inside.
Yonkers was a few songs into his set before I realized he sported no traditional guitar strap for his guitar. Plagued by back and spine problems stemming from an injury in 1971, Yonkers had crafted a custom made belt wrapped around his mid-section. Despite injury, which landed him on disability and apparently cause so much pain he devotes hours a day to pain relief, Yonkers seemed lithe and limber for his 57 years, perhaps partly due to his other pastime, devotion to dance where he is also active locally.
Sometimes weird, but more frequently pure genius, Yonkers seemed a combination of his contemporaries Captain Beefheart (Don Van Vliet) and Ozzy Osborne, but in Yonkers case any weirdness is limited to the music as Yonkers doesn't give off the impression of being mentally unstable himself at times as Osborne and Van Vlient clearly did.
After holding a note for what seemed like forever at the end of one bluesy number, Yonkers made a strong-arm muscle as if to indicate he knew he'd nailed the song. Another song ended with a solo that sounded something like a cranked up short-wave radio on the fritz.
Yonkers mostly played his newer stuff, but included in his set two songs from the CD re-release of Microminiature Love including the CD Only bonus track "Sold America" (available for download from his label's site). Throughout the set as he turned the pages of the music on a rickety music stand onstage I had a feeling of resonance as if I'd heard these songs before.
The enthusiasm of crowd built as Yonkers frequently went straight from one song almost immediately into the next. This created the good kind of tension that devoted rock and roll fan goes to shows in search of, and it was something that also made the show more than worth the $6 cover just for Yonkers alone on a 4-band bill.
As Yonkers doesn't perform often due to his back problems, you should see him any time you can, as there's never a guarantee you'll get another chance. (Perhaps this is one of the reasons that more cameras than normal abounded at this show.) And how often do you get to see one of the contemporaries of Iggy Pop and Frank Zappa rock your socks off live - by himself for that matter?
Yonker's CD, "Microminiature Love" is available at most local indie record shops including Roadrunner Records, Treehouse Records and Electric Fetus.
Related Links:
2002 City Pages article by Cecile Cloutier
Macro love for Yonker's "Microminature" by Chris Riemenschneider (Star Tribune)
Location Info:
7th Street Entry
Artist Info: Michael Yonkers
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