By: Spencer Doar

Benches dotted St. Paul’s Union Depot concourse as Fred Mertz-types donned fedoras and Ethels tucked compacts into their handbags after one last touchup.  Upon hearing the distant blast of a horn, they exited en masse to greet the arrival of the streamlined Zephyr that would whisk them to Chicago.

It’s been more than 40 years since the Depot served in that capacity, but this weekend it will see the birth of a new heyday as the third Northern Spark uses it as the centerpiece for this year’s all-night art festival.   

“It’s a very old building —newly reopened but the first time a lot of people will be there,” said Sarah Peters, the associate director of Northern Spark.  “There will be art tucked into all of these little corners.”

With the newly remodeled depot and accompanying train yard occupying some 32 acres, there is plenty of space for the work of the 300-plus artists participating in this year’s festival. 

The Amtrak ticket office, empty until train service begins, will host an existential travel agency where improvisers provide philosophical consultation.   Mizna, an Arab-American journal, is sponsoring an exhibition along a portion of the carriageway that will allow patrons to spray-paint stencils inspired by street art from the Arab Spring.  There’ll even be a fantasy space camp with a dozen artist-built rocket ships, as well as film, musical theater and a signage workshop amidst all sorts of interactive experiences.

Despite the enormity of the grounds, 2013 and the year’s 76 projects see a smaller overall festival footprint.  Organizers responded to feedback from previous years requesting a walkable festival.

“The experience of wandering and stumbling into things is the most magical part of Northern Spark,” Peters said. 

Whether it’s travel in the physical or metaphysical sense, 2013’s Northern Spark is set to run you off the rails. 

What:  Northern Spark 2013

When: 8:58 p.m., Saturday

Where: Lowertown, St. Paul

Cost: Free

Age: All Ages

By: Spencer Doar

Syrupy is never a word that’ll be heard in reference to noise music, unless it’s an allusion to sludge, spoiled milk or maybe the way a hand drips down a modified fret board.

The best way to describe a noise act is to emphasize the ‘act’ part of the equation. Noise as a genre of music — if you can call it music — is akin to performance art. It’s about the experience; there’s a vast difference between listening to a recording and crowding into some dank basement while a guy creates sounds befitting an alien transmission.

“There are so many great bands out there to see, but do you remember them? It’s just another great band,” said Jason Wade, a member of local noise band Cock E.S.P. and event organizer. “You’re going to remember the show where somebody throws a garbage can at you.”

This weekend’s Minneapolis International Noise Conference, or MPLS INC, aims to embrace the multiple facets of noise weirdness, including comedy, dance, performance art and music, from punk-rock to the more familiar home-cooked contraptions of noise mainstays.

The five-hour long event features 30 acts, each playing a 10-minute set. It will progress relay style, with no breaks; as a nod to noise rock purists, laptops are not allowed. The organizers want the kind of enlivened performance that screens and keys interfere with.

Gimme what?

A phenomenon born in the early part of 20th century, noise rock can be traced to psychedelic rock and fringe jazz experimentation of the ’50s and ’60s.

Noise of today is a visceral experience that maintains a subversive, underground status, sharing traits with just about anything that attempts to be different from the status quo.

“There’s been noise around since before it was called noise,” said Rana May, a local comedian and MPLS INC participant. “Noise musicians and comedians both try to cross the line, to mess with people’s preconceptions.”

Befitting the haphazard nature of the show, Thee Nodes manager and former member Matt Smith admitted that their presence at MPLS INC is coincidence because they “needed a gig.”

“We’re expecting a lot of noise — not music,” Smith said.

A guy can put a guitar pickup on a piece of sheet metal, play it with a bow, bend it or whack it — the resulting experience is undoubtedly interesting, though the actual sound could be questionable aesthetically.

“I like abrasive sounds,” local musician Paul Metzger said. “When I hear things that are pleasant I get agitated.”

Metzger is known for his guitar and banjo instrumentals, though he’s tinkering with a series of music boxes that he’s altered with distortion to create a sort of analog synthesizer.

If all of this has you scratching your head then May, with her informational speech, can hopefully shed some light on what the hell is happening come this Thursday night.

Year two in Minneapolis

The main International Noise Conference happens annually in Miami. It’s the brainchild of Rat Bastard, the main member of the Laundry Room Squelchers. This weekend’s conference is the second iteration of the Minneapolis spinoff.

Laundry Room Squelchers, Bulgarian group S.D.U. and Montreal rockers Thee Nodes round out what is a predominantly local bill.

If an experiment falls flat, the brevity of sets keeps things moving.

“Last time I saw a group, it was so long,” May said. “The best punk and noise bands have sets under 20 minutes.”

That is a sentiment reiterated by participants: a fundamental dissatisfaction with duration. MPLS INC tapped into the musical impatience of the listener who always wants more, differently.

Jaime Carrera exemplifies this: A member of Cock E.S.P. and a solo performer this year, he specifically aims to stand out — as if with so many disparate elements there’s a standard to “fit” with. He’ll be taking the stage as Pudgy, an obscene, shirtless, singing pig-man obsessed with the spotlight.

Drew Ailes, front man for local hardcore band Brain Tumors, will reflect on the spotlight, performing spoken word as the Henry Rollins of Minneapolis.

“I really am the Henry Rollins of Minneapolis as a front man for a hardcore band — it’s a burden I have to bear. I just want people to understand what I’ve gone through and feel the way I feel,” Ailes said. “Really I’m just going to get drunk and throw beer on people.”

Typical. Antagonism seems to be a mainstay of noise.

What: Minneapolis International Noise Conference

When: 9 p.m., Thursday

Where: Hexagon Bar, 2600 S. 27th Ave., Minneapolis

Cost: Free

Age: 21+

By: Spencer Doar

As Frances Dilorinzo spins around, the audience realizes that she cleverly tucked her hands into her shirt and her sleeves into her pants pockets, giving the illusion of gigantic breasts. 

It’s the start of a joke about homemade implants, and the desire to see the results before actually going under the knife.  The joke went viral, gathering over three million views, boosting Dilorinzo’s profile. 

Born in Michigan, Dilorinzo resides in California, and has appeared on “Secret Life of a Soccer Mom,” “Real Housewives of Orange County” and “Last Comic Standing.”   She’s been a comic for 20 years.

“‘Real Housewives of Orange County’ always seemed to cut me out,” Dilorinzo said.  “I don’t think my boobs are big enough.”

Her feelings about her figure, her unwillingness to copulate with her husband—or a police officer to get out of a ticket—how the sexes differ on the phone, all are open fodder for Dilorinzo’s effusive standup. 

“I did not come out of a dark tortured past; I actually say in my act I’m so normal I’m kind of a freak,” Dilorinzo said.  “For a while I harbored a lot of resentment because my parents have been married for 50 years, there was no drug abuse, no sexual abuse. Did they not understand I wanted to be a comedian? They taught me morals and values—really screwed me up.”

She peppers her sets with “You know”s and her beaming white smile, appearing to have the time of her life each and every set.  It would seem like a practiced affectation, if it weren’t for the fact that she’s just like that in the morning without her first cup of coffee—the coffee only aids her manic delivery and presence.    

“Unlike a lot of female comedians, I’m quite physical,” Dilorinzo said.  “I’m very comfortable getting silly—looking silly on stage.”   

She points out that there was a “more cerebral trend in comedy,” where things are funny, though potentially depressing, saddening or reflective of the audience’s own demons. 

“Comedy should be fun as well as funny,” Dilorinzo said.  “If you come to my show it’s about escaping, giving your brain a break from all the negative stuff you see on CNN.” 

It all began during a required speech class in college when her professor urged students to incorporate humor into their public speaking. 

Funny bones run in the family too: her children, ages 9 and 10, already have their own standup bit; a fact that could be the starting premise of yet another reality show.  

What:  Frances Dilorinzo

When: 7:30 p.m. Thursday, 7:30 and 9:45 p.m. Friday, 7 and 9:30 p.m. Saturday, 7 p.m. Sunday

Where: Rick Bronson’s House of Comedy, Level 4 East, Mall of America, Bloomington

Cost: $15-$19

Age: 18+

By: Joe Kleinschmidt

Andy Haynes no longer sleeps on an inflatable bed—now he’s making enough money to afford an actual mattress. When the stand-up used to live with fellow comic Rory Scovel in L.A., he slept on the crude blow-up mattress with his wife.

“That is a canary in the coalmine for your financial status,” he joked during his debut on TBS’s “Conan” last year.

Haynes trades in self-deprecation and absurdity, making his more biting remarks completely casual. Though his act mostly centers on his former slovenly lifestyle, he also finds a satiric edge, possibly stemming from his former aspirations.  He initially found comedy after considering a career as a political activist.

“Then I realized that everyone in activism was so serious,” he said. “It just wasn’t that fun. I kind of wanted to cause trouble.”

The Seattle native comes from a family of politically minded campaign supporters. Haynes might not give fiery monologues a la Bill Hicks, but it’s still embedded in his comedy DNA.

“I grew up around a bunch of lefties,” he said. “We’d picket—my mom’s like a union person, and then my sister’s a gay rights activist.”

Haynes never joined Greenpeace, settling on a less serious path towards the national spotlight. His career eventually landed him on NBC’s “Last Comic Standing” in 2008 when he nearly advanced in the contest before being cut.

“For a lot of those reality television shows, they want this big personality to come along with whatever this competition is,” he said. “I was just so happy to be there. I guess that’s not what keeps people watching.”

Since his exit from “Last Comic Standing,” he’s considering skewering the reality show genre for a show he’s work shopping in his head. Haynes dreams of upping the ante of “No Reservations,” a travel show hosted by the outspoken chef—and former addict—Anthony Bourdain.

“It would be like if Anthony Bourdain was still on heroin,” he said. “He’d still be trying to score on all these trips. He’s into the food, but he’s also in to the bad parts of town.”

Haynes’s proposed satire actually draws from his own misadventures in Central America. Throughout his 20s, he made frequent trips to Colombia, Mexico and every country in between. Although he claims he wasn’t scoring drugs—aside from weed—he recounted a run-in with a one-armed man who robbed him, an instance he attributes to his drunken debauchery.

“Most of the time when I was travelling, I was drinking,” he said. “I got into some close calls with guys who were unsavory types. That’s always something I can draw on—that experience.”

The recovering alcoholic decided to focus on his comedy rather than finding the cheapest plane tickets to the closest Spanish-speaking country in 2008. Haynes won’t be revisiting Central America to relive his old ways any time soon, but the trips show his sardonic side. Even if he’s grown up since then, his sense of humor hasn’t.

“I got it out of my system,” he said. “I survived.”

What: Andy Haynes

Where: Acme Comedy Club, 708 N. First St., Minneapolis

When: 8 p.m., Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday; 8 p.m. and 10:30 p.m., Friday and Saturday

Cost: $15

By: Spencer Doar

While the mislaid brick remains the bane of barefoot late-night snackers, Lego has undergone a shift in the 21st century. 

For avid hobbyists like University of Minnesota philosophy professor Roy Cook, Lego  provides a problem and a pastime that has grown to a collection of some estimated 2.5 million bricks and encompasses his whole basement.

 Cook is a former Lego Ambassador, and co-founder of the Twin Cities’ Lego User Group, or TwinLUG. His scale models of the state Capitol and the Cathedral of St. Paul are currently on display at those respective locations. 

“The trick is to get things as close as possible — you can never get the dimensions exactly right,” Cook said.  “You need the critical details.”

In the case of the State Capitol, the eagles at the base of the dome were a challenge. Lego does not make an eagle piece, but they do make an owl.  Cook needed white owl pieces though, which only could be found in a large Harry Potter set.

It’s at this point when Cook and builders like him turn to third-party sources to acquire specific pieces or quantities that wouldn’t be viable in-store purchases(think StubHub but for Lego). By Cook’s estimation, there are a few dozen people who make their living solely as unofficial Lego distributors. 

But his commissioned work is only a small part of Cook’s hobby.  He was a Lego Ambassador for TwinLUG, connecting Lego and the community. 

The Lego Ambassador program’s origins lie at the turn of the century, when Lego realized the need to be better in touch with its adult consumer base. 

“For a long time Lego thought that for every adult who spent $100, there were 10,000 kids who spent $10,” Cook said.  “They started doing some research and realized that wasn’t true.”

Cook experienced what many adult fans of Lego, or AFOLs, call a “dark age,” a period of time when a childhood interest in the building block toy is followed by a hiatus.  For Cook, that ended at the age of 31 when he decided to make a mural of his nephew with 1×1 Lego bricks for his first birthday. 

Now, besides his micro-models of city scenes and buildings, his mural work is well known in Lego circles. 

Those circles converge in June for Brickworld, a Lego convention in Chicago.  This year sees Cook building his largest model yet, a 5 1/2 foot-long model of the Hall of Justice from the ’70s television series “Super Friends.”  

But his building interest does not seem all that out of place when you realize that Cook’s lower arm tattoo is that of R2-D2’s access panels.

By: Joe Kleinschmidt

“Starcrash” hasn’t aged well, but last Wednesday, the 1978 Italian sci-fi romp graced the screen of the Trylon Microcinema, where B-movie fans gather each week to embrace the forgotten pop-culture refuse of the past.

When the Emperor of the known universe once again initiated yet another bout of handholding with the protagonists, a man in Trylon’s tiny, 50-person audience suddenly sang “Kumbaya.”

“I think that’s the cool thing about watching films like this —you don’t need to be super quiet and pay close attention,” said Theresa Kay. As the founder of Trash Film Debauchery, Kay encourages jeers from her audiences.

Kay started the group on the University of Minnesota campus in 2003 and has since moved the scorn-filled screenings to the Turf Club, the Trylon and soon Club Jäger. “Starcrash” represents a long line of “trash” films she’s spread.

“The first series I did was a double feature of the best cinematic head explosions of all-time,” she said. “So I showed ‘Scanners’ and ‘Maniac.’”***

Although her taste ranges from sci-fi to slasher and horror, Kay combs for rare gems among the bargain bins of thrift stores like Discount Village. For “Starcrash,” she says the perverse appeal to the campy “Star Wars” rip-off lies in the film’s principal actors.

“It’s a really low-budget Roger Corman sci-fi movie, but it has a bunch of well-known [actors] now, unknowns then,” she said.

Halfway through Stella Star’s (Caroline Munro) scantily clad cosmic adventure, she encounters the Emperor’s son, Simon. The golden nest of frizz emerges underneath Simon’s helmet, revealing a young David Hasselhoff.

“It’s always hilarious to see well-known actors who were successful and made a name for themselves being bad,” Kay said.

The future “Bay Watch” star can’t quite make up for the schlock of “Starcrash,” but the cult audience of Trash Film feeds off the base filmmaking. An impromptu martial arts scene pits Akton (Marjoe Gortner) against a nemesis, a cheap display of missed punches and overacting.

“A huge aspect of a lot of the things I show is sort of the unintentional comedy,” Kay said. “The filmmakers are really putting a lot into what they’re making and trying so hard to make something good. And it’s successful, but not in the way it’s intended to be.”

Trash Film Debauchery gives a social setting to enjoy the unintentional humor of “Starcrash,” full of shoddy special effects, but Kay still requires a movie to be entertaining. Perhaps she treads a fine line between pop entertainment and sheer boredom, but her eclectic selections often surprise the audience. During her days at the University, Kay remembers a disgruntled viewer of “Zardoz,” a particularly strange fantasy featuring Sean Connery.

When the film’s hero wandered around a giant crystal toward the conclusion, the onscreen inaction resulted in one girl’s dramatic exit.

“It’s really disorienting and strange. There’s nothing happening, and it goes on for five minutes, at least,” Kay said. “So this girl in the back of the room just screamed, ‘What is happening?’ She got up and stormed out because she’d had enough.”

“That was a successful moment for me.”

Hurl insults with Trash Film Debauchery at the following locations this summer:

The Trylon Microcinema

3258 Minnehaha Ave., Minneapolis

The Turf Club

1601 W. University Ave., St Paul

Club Jäger

923 N. Washington Ave., Minneapolis

Visit TrashFilmDebauchery.com for complete program list.

More chances to talk trash at the movies:

Midnight showings at the Uptown Theater (2906 Hennepin Ave.). Each month, Uptown screens “The Room” and “Rocky Horror Picture Show” for audiences to mock and/or enjoy. Bring a bag of plastic spoons or a football with you for “The Room,” and be sure to dress in drag for one of the best interactive cinematic experiences. The local cast, Transvestite Soup, perform alongside the movie each month.

The Defenders series at the Trylon (3258 Minnehaha Ave.). A local luminary screens a mystery movie for this monthly series at the Trylon. If you don’t like the surprise cinema, be prepared to mount your case against the local film expert. After the movie, the defenders must proudly profess the reasons for their particular pick. Guilty pleasures, rare and forgotten films form most of the past film picks. Upcoming defenders: Theresa Kay, Blake Iverson, Jim Brunzell.

By: Joe Kleinschmidt

Jed Smentek founded his band after buying a retro synthesizer off of Craigslist. To form CLAPS, he’d need the inspiration from the ’80s synth to build the moody minimalism his band is known for.

“The ARP [Axxe] was pretty much the whole reason we started a band,” vocalist Patrick Donohoe said. “We found one on Craigslist for 300 bucks.”

“That was my hobby,” Smentek said. “My whole life was looking on Craigslist.”

Smentek invested his time searching for the right synth for a type of minimalism he wanted to recreate through the ARP Axxe. “New Science,” the band’s first EP, showcases this pop sheen partly inspired by new wave pioneers John Foxx and Fad Gadget. But CLAPS still left room to grow.

“At that point we were so new in what we were making, we didn’t really know what we wanted to sound like,” Donohoe said.

Goth and post-punk sounds also influence the band, possibly a testament to Donohoe and Smentek’s short-lived streaming radio show at the University of St. Thomas. With the band’s latest album “Glory, Glory,” a dark dirge encompasses most of the record where clean sounds once dominated. Instrumentalist Sara Abdelaal moved from the synth to the bass for even more possibilities.

“When we started ‘Glory, Glory’ and the tail-end of ‘Wreck,’ we felt like we were coming into something that was ours,” Donohoe said.

The singer partly credits the evolution in adding rougher elements, ditching the simple perfection for more organic performance. Seeing CLAPS live now represents an entirely different experience than listening to the band’s recorded output.

“So much synth in electronic music is not live-based,” Smentek said. “It’s like someone does something on a computer, and then they put the computer up and they’re like, ‘Here’s my song.’”

In the age of laptops in the increasingly commercialized electronic dance music scene, the analog synthesizers CLAPS embrace forge an opportunity to break the wall that a computer brings.

“That’s really never what we ever wanted to be,” Smentek said. “When we write music, it’s like we’re performing.”

CLAPS prefers the basement of a house as their stage, where even the most electronic and scientific sounds they acquire never feel sterile. The pulsating synths feel more alive among cramped partygoers than bar attendees anyway.

“I kind of hate the idea of being a band that just hangs out in the greenroom and plays the venue,” Abdelaal said. “I think that people who go to basement shows are more into music. Or maybe just drinking.”

The three strive for immediacy in performance and songwriting, something they’ve developed through a longstanding relationship — Donohoe, Smentek and Abdelaal all work in visual effects together outside the band.

Through “Glory, Glory” and the forthcoming “Lies White Lies,” the synth trio gives off a collective gloomy disposition. Where the former played into a heavy spiritual aesthetic, the new album joins the clinical instrumentals with a slightly more optimistic outlook. But Smentek insists that the seriousness never interrupts the fun.

“It’s not like an artist who pours their soul into a painting and it becomes a process that can be exhausting,” Smentek said. “It’s not like that.”

Abdelaal relates the purpose of CLAPS to the band’s penchant for playing impromptu house gigs: “I just think we got into writing music that would be fun to play in a basement.”

Although the bleak lyrics Donohoe sings on stage give off a sinister atmospheric haze, CLAPS remains infectiously danceable, without solely relying on ’80s revivalism.

“We’re having a good time being sad, I guess,” Smentek said.

By: Joe Kleinschmidt

Nothing spells the advent of summer like the local block party, a Twin Cities tradition. Even though the First Avenue and River’s Edge festivals were shelved this year, the Cities are alive with an oncoming slew of local garage bands for free and some big-name ’90s acts playing on hyped-up nostalgia. Standard festivals like Rock the Garden and the Basilica Block Party satisfy a mix somewhere in between — a blend of national and local acts headline both.

Newest is the Skyline Music Festival at Target Field. (Thankfully, no Kenny Chesney and Tim McGraw on the field this year.) Whether you’d rather spend your money on beer while listening to some local jams or you’ve got the cash to see Soul Asylum at Target Field, now’s the time to start planning. So roll out your dingiest Pavement T-shirt or some swanky evening formalwear — A&E found the best fests for the highest and lowest spenders among us.

Freebies for the small fry:

Grand Old Day

Three miles of St. Paul sprawl gives a family spin on the beer-drenched block party, with possibly the most varied musical lineup of the summer.

When: Sunday, June 2, 8 a.m. – 6 p.m.

Where: Along Grand Avenue, St. Paul

Cost: Free

Lineup:

Dixie’s Stage: The Amends, Tramps Like Us, Night Moves, Har Mar Superstar

K-TWIN Grand Garden Stage: The Melismatics, Skypiper, The Unlikely Candidates

Billy’s on Grand: Arc Flash Hazard, Butterface, Orange Whip, Hookers and Blow

Twin Cities Jazz Festival

Local jazz groups will also perform all around St. Paul, with concerts outside Union Depot, the Artists’ Quarter and Amsterdam Bar to name a few.

When: Thursday, June 27 – Saturday, June 29

Where: Mears Park, 221 E. 5th St. St. Paul

Cost: Free

Lineup:

Night One (Funk Night): RJ and the Soul, Black Market Brass, New Sounds Underground

Night Two: The Illicit Sextet, Ariel Pocock, Kenny Werner Trio

Night Three: Walker West Music Academy, JazzMN Orchestra with Connie Evingson, Matt Slocum with Walter Smith III, Cyrus Chestnut Trio

Uptown Pride Block Party

This zero-waste event capitalizes on a wide local music spectrum — from the acoustic folk of Chastity Brown to the sweltering post-rock of L’Assassins.

When: Friday, June 28, 6–10 p.m.

Where: Bryant Avenue and Lake Street

Cost: Free

Lineup: MC Foxy Tann, Epitome No Question, Southside Desire, Sick of Sarah, Dykes Do Drag, Chastity Brown, L’Assassins

Bastille Day Block Party

Celebrate French National Day in style with some of the best up-and-comers of the local scene and some punk mainstays. Also, cake will be served.

When: Sunday, July 14, 3-10 p.m.

Where: Barbette, 1600 W. Lake St.

Cost: Free

Lineup: John Mark Nelson, Lucy Michelle, Nadine Dubois, Sweetpea & Les Folies Risque, The Suicide Commandos, LEAGUES, MC Foxy Tann

Big tickets for the big spender:

Rock the Garden

The picturesque concert venue easily makes for the best place to see music this summer, that is, if you bought a ticket before all those 89.3 The Current listeners.

When: Saturday, June 15, 3-10 p.m.

Where: Walker Art Center/Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, 1750 Hennepin Ave.

Cost: Sold out (about $72 on StubHub)

Lineup: Metric, Silversun Pickups, Bob Mould Band, Low, Dan Deacon

Basilica Block Party

Praise the loud at the priciest music festival around town this year. Began in 1995 as a fundraiser for the structural restoration of the Basilica, you can still support the church through rock ‘n’ roll. Raise hell as you praise Him.

When: Friday, July 12 – Saturday, July 13, 5-10:30 p.m.

Where: Basilica of St. Mary, 88 N. 17th St.

Cost: One night: $45-50, two nights: $80-90

Lineup:

Night one: Father John Misty, Grace Potter & the Nocturnals, Family of the Year, Matt Nathanson, Mayer Hawthorne, ZZ Ward, Churchill, Southwire, the Cactus Blossoms, Actual Wolf

Night Two: Sharon JOnes and the Dap-Kings, Goo Goo Dolls, Matchbox Twenty, Walk the Moon, Kate Earl, Cloud Cult, Van Stee, Bomba De Luz, On An On

Skyline Music Festival

Dubbed “the LP tour,” each act will play an entire album. Expect “Girlfriend” from Sweet, for instance.

When: Friday, July 26, 4-10:30 p.m.

Where: Target Field, 1 Twins Way, Minneapolis

Cost: $25 – $45

Lineup: Soul Asylum, Matthew Sweet, Big Head Todd and the Monsters, Gear Daddies

Extra credit for the festival freaks:

Stone Arch Bridge Festival

Red Stag Block Party

AmericanaramA Festival (Bob Dylan, Wilco and My Morning Jacket)

By: Spencer Doar

Busta Rhymes was slated to headline Soundset on Sunday, but he never showed up; whispers in the wind indicated that he was, for whatever reason, in Las Vegas.

That meant that 4:30 p.m. came and instead of that husky-voiced, square-jawed titan, Minneapolis’ own Prof took the helm, playing an impromptu 45 minutes that saw him stop the set to chastise a section of the crowd for fighting and sing a blues track that he’s been working on — seriously. 

It’s unfortunate that Rhymes’ absence resulted in Prof performing, not because Prof was crap, but because of the brevity of the sets during the sixth annual festival.  It felt as though those minutes could have been spread to the other artists, who sometimes left the stage just as they seemed to really get going, as was the case with Aesop Rock and P.O.S.  

Before any Rhymesayers hit the stage though, the crowd was stagnant, even being called the “walking dead” by 12:30 p.m. performer R.A. the Rugged Man.

The masses fittingly came to life when the aforementioned Aesop Rock performed at 2 p.m.  (But then, Rhymesayers are the Twin Cities’ babies and are often thrown the affection that comes with it.) 

He was the catalyst, charging the crowd until bursting into “None Shall Pass,” its synthy pop undercurrent getting all manner of fitted cap-wearing men and Daisy Dukes-clad women dancing in a manner befitting such a large event — and, as P.O.S. said less than 15 minutes later, it’s the best way to stay warm on what was a chilly, windy day for 23,000 people in Shakopee, Minn. 

Mother Nature did seem to agree to a tenuous nine hour cease-fire, only sporadically spitting a few drops at one patron or another.  The wind in particular did alter the stereotypical festival air, as, multiple times, event staffers and audience members attempted to get beach balls out into the crowd, only to have them instantly blown behind the main stage. 

Aesop Rock served the crowd to P.O.S. on a platter, and boy did P.O.S. take advantage.  He was joined by the only live instrumentation of the day, performing with Marijuana Deathsquads, which added necessary punk intensity. 

The crowd knew this was a triumphant comeback moment for P.O.S., as he spent much of the last six months in wait of a kidney transplant and only recently decided to step back on stage.  P.O.S. said that it was the most fun he’s had since his last time at Soundset. 

Despite the anger and intensity that seems a natural byproduct of hip-hop, “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind” could have been the theme of this year’s festival, with host Sway Calloway (MTV News, anyone?), consistently celebrating the community roots of hip-hop.   

That, and maybe “titties,” as Joey Bada$$, Juicy J and Tech N9ne all spent a good part of their sets hitting on the crowd.

“Damn girl,” “Where the best strip club at,” and “White girls dancin’ for me like I’m Atmosphere and [expletive]” are a few illuminating moments of what passed for witty banter.

Things went smoothly, but there were certainly a few hiccups. The Busta Rhymes no-show was a big one. The overworked ground crew had to battle with woodchips to prevent Canterbury from turning into a mud pit; the network that supported the ATMs and credit terminals went on the fritz for two hours in the middle of the day, and lines for cash reached epic proportions. 

The day culminated with the choreographed entrance of Snoop Dogg.  Barely on time, he and his posse rolled up to the back of the stage in two black Mercedes-Benz vans  as security cordoned off 20 feet on either side, pushing aside artists and press alike.

When Dogg’s costumed mascot came on and “Gin and Juice” filled the air, it was easy to imagine some housewife in nearby Savage, Minn., catching whiffs of cannabis and bass in the air. 

When all was said and done, what was left was the detritus of 10 hours of drinking, smoking and dancing — and a clear picture of the fundamental differences between Minnesota acts and the national awning under which they huddle.

By: Shannon Ryan

What: Damien Jurado

When: 8 p.m., Wednesday

Where: Turf Club, 1601 University Ave., St. Paul

Cost: $13 in advance; $15 at the door

Age: 21+

Singer-songwriter Damien Jurado has built up a strong catalog of music in the indie-folk scene. And with detours in pop, Christian rock and electric indie rock, Jurado ensures that his body of work is impossible to pin down. The Seattle native’s moody vocal delivery and knack for delivering a memorable hook in his tracks has quietly built the musician a heady inventory of albums. His label, Secretly Canadian, released his latest full-length, “Maraqopa,” in February 2012, bringing his total collection to 12 studio albums.

Jurado’s musings on his records are as varied as the genres his work can be classified as — 2010’s “Saint Bartlett” was the 12-track tale of a friend’s living realities, and “Maraqopa” is the ineffable narrative of a fictional dream character born out of Jurado’s mind in early 2011.

“I remember having the dream and being so freaked out by it that I got up immediately and went to find a piece of paper, and I scrawled the word Maraqopa down,” Jurado said. “And I remember my wife said, ‘You spelled it wrong,’ and I said, ‘No, that’s exactly how it’s spelled.’”

And within a week of the dream, all 10 tracks of “Maraqopa” were written. The artist insisted it was the most vivid dream he’d ever had. The plot of Jurado’s vision-turned-concept album is one of a famous man disappearing from the small town of “Maraqopa” and leaving no traces of his whereabouts.

The album’s tracks are a mix of viewpoints of those who were familiar with Maraqopa’s disappearing celeb — journalists, fans and publicists — and from the mind of the star himself.

“‘Working Titles’ is from the viewpoint of the fan,” Jurado said. “And the line ‘You’re no him, but he’s you, only better’ is a stab at the guy’s public image. They’re saying that’s not him, and even though it looks good, they know his personal life is terrible.”

Jurado compared his dream character to legendary Nirvana rocker Kurt Cobain and the public’s emotions surrounding his death. Jurado insisted many people were sad but also angry at Cobain’s decision to end his life, comparing those emotions to those of the fans who are vexed at the disappearance of Maraqopa’s most well-known man.

Though the premise for the album is based on ideas from Jurado’s subconscious mind, the tracks are still entirely familiar and easily identifiable. His lyrics are laced with longing and love, drenched in the sort of steady melodic rain that his native city is known for. However, Jurado admits his work is for the most part entirely fictional, ostensibly because the musician seeks solace in places outside of the spotlight.

“I don’t like singing about me; I don’t like being in the spotlight. Some artists love it — it’s a real release, very cathartic — but I can’t do it,” Jurado said. “I don’t like it.”