By: Spencer Doar

Alex “Crankshaft” Larson owes some thanks to Cowboy Mel, an Anoka barber and local character.

It’s one of Mel’s amusing anecdotes that provided the basis for the 11th track on Crankshaft and the Gear Grinders’ 2013 album, “What You Gonna Do?”

“Fill It Up” details the story of a cuckolded construction worker who gets revenge on his lady’s beau by ruining his car. Except, like any good Cowboy Mel story, it’s in a crazy way: The man fills the cheater’s Cadillac convertible up with cement.

Larson was bubbling with excitement on the phone with A&E — he actually got the chance to ruin a ’75 Caddy last weekend while filming the video for the song.

Romance gone awry, a spurned lover, a badass whip and an unexpected climax — it’s the perfect subject matter for Larson’s genre-melding music. That story makes bluesy rock ‘n’ roll with a punkish edge flat out work: He calls it pork neck.

“Basically people were asking me time and time again [what type of music I play]; it’s so hard to answer,” Larson said. “So I say it’s pork neck because I can.”

No matter what he wants to call the edgy, spiraling, Chuck Berry-influenced tracks on the album, people are listening.

He gigs all over the cities and the state, playing 7th Street Entry as easily as Bunker’s.

 There was a point when he wasn’t sure if itinerant gigging was the right move, continuing to run his own construction company up until 2009 while still playing 90-odd gigs a year.

Even when Larson made the commitment to support himself with nothing but music in 2010, he didn’t pull his contractor permit, his subconscious nagging at the musical decision.

Now, there are no regrets, and his experience in the world of wood-hewn beams and power tools came in handy for the recording of “What You Gonna Do?”

One of Larson’s goals setting out was to find a space that would allow him and the Gear Grinders to record live. (His engineer’s studio in Minneapolis is too small for live tracking.)

In the end, that requirement was filled by a small dairy barn that required quite a bit of work to get up and running — a veritable episode of “This Old House.”  

Larson recalls that even after all the wiring, weather proofing and general cleaning up, there was still a pigeon problem.

“Probably two-thirds of the instrumentals on the album were recorded with a couple of pigeons that got into the barn,” Larson said.

Just add those feathered friends to the growing audience of people falling for Crankshaft’s pork-neck stylings.

By: Sarah Harper

STUFF TO DO

THURSDAY:

Arj Barker

You might remember him from “Flight of the Conchords,” but chances are good that you don’t, actually: Arj Barker didn’t play one of the two main guys. He played their good friend Dave. A calm presence in the comedy world, Barker has made his red-eyed, shaggy-haired mark in other ways. He was in the off-Broadway laugh-fest “The Marijuana-Logues” with pals Doug Benson and Tony Camin. Barker has also made appearances on “Late Night with Conan O’Brien” and been featured on “Comedy Central Presents.”

Where: ACME Comedy Company

When: 8 p.m. or 10:30 p.m. (Running through August 3)

Cost: $15-30

FRIDAY:

“Oz” by Circus Juventas

Not enough scrilla for Cirque du Soleil? Creeped out by that high-falutin’ Vegas sham of flexibility anyway? No problem. Get the home-grown, fresh-faced version of it for a fraction of the price. Swing into the St. Paul youth circus’ annual summer show and marvel at up-and-coming Twin Cities talents — along with kids who are just doing this for fun. Circus Juventas is a community force, giving everybody under the age of 18 a chance to try their hand (and other hand, and legs, and torsos) at being the next Barnum and Bailey brothers (and sisters!)

Where: Circus Juventas; 1270 Montreal Ave., St. Paul

When: 7 p.m. (Running through Aug. 18)

Cost: $14-35

SATURDAY:

Red Stag Block Party

If you haven’t seen a good Minnesota cover band yet, you’ve been missing out: this state is home to a glorious motley crew of them. Take Saturday as an opportunity to get jiggy with All Tomorrow’s Petty, a band that sounds like what it is — the greatest. Take a peek at the lineup; you’re guaranteed to have a blast even if you’re not treating the block party like your own personal PettyFest 2013. Go for locals Gramma’s Boyfriend, Bad Bad Hats, Greg Grease, Actual Wolf and more.

Where: 509 First Ave. N.E., Minneapolis

When: 5-10:30 p.m.

Cost: Free

CULTURE TO CONSUME

LISTEN TO THIS:

Backstreet Boys

Last summer, the whole world rejoiced with a cry of “Backstreet’s back, alright!” when the five greatest showmen of our time reunited to live in a house together and record a new album. But the real Streeters among us knew that the golden boys never left — for two decades, they’ve been producing a steady stream of scream-worthy pop. It may not be raking in the critical praise, but their 20th anniversary album, which came out Tuesday, is worth a few listens. Get ahold of “In a World like This” and convince your fab friends to help you make up some sweet choreography or maybe just turn out all the lights in your bedroom and bask in the glory of what was, is and forever shall be.

WATCH THIS:

“The Bachelorette”

It’s the perfect time to jump into the all-time greatest ABC show — the second part of the season’s finale is scheduled for Monday at 7 p.m. Spend these remaining days catching up on Desiree  Hartsock’s hunt for a good man. You’ll be a full-fledged citizen of #BachelorNation just in time to watch the last rose giveaway live. Who will it be now that big, bad Brooks Forester has broken our artist’s heart? Who’s in it for the right reasons? The adorable Chris Siegfried? The adorable Drew Kenney? Maybe Des can skate away with both of them, and the producers can keep scheduling sweet group dates for the rest of their lives. Or are we thinking Chris Harrison will shuttle in a wildcard? Juan Pablo Galavis fans can only hope.

EAT THIS:

BBQ

Alright folks, I hate to be the one to bring this up, but we’re coming right around into August here, and it’s time to get going on our overly ambitious “summer lists.” Have we gone on a road trip? Have we climbed a mountain? Have we brushed up on Portuguese? No, no and no—and we may not before the summer is over, but we can sure as heck get some charred meat going before September falls upon us. Fire up the grill or, better yet, head on over to one of the Twin Cities’ solid BBQ joints: A&E recommends Rudolphs (1933 Lyndale Ave S., Minneapolis), Market Bar-B-Que (1414 Nicollet Ave., Minneapolis), Dixies on Grand (695 Grand Ave., St. Paul) and Scott Ja-Mama’s Restaurant (3 W. Diamond Lake Rd., Minneapolis).

By: Joe Kleinschmidt

Since 1994, the Minnesota Fringe Festival has offered a staggering amount of theater over its annual 11-day run. With 176 shows in 16 venues, the largest non-juried theater festival in the United States offers an unpredictable slew this year.

Choosing what 60-minute shows to attend is a tricky task, but fortunately A&E scouted out the top comedies among the wide-ranging line-up of productions. From a tribute to the cult fandom of “Star Trek” to one man’s trek in the Sahara, these three shows offer a diverse array of humor.

Inside Trek

“Stuck in an Elevator with Patrick Stewart”

Where: Red Eye Theater, 15 14th St. W., Minneapolis

When:

7 p.m., Saturday; 8:30 p.m., Sunday; 10 p.m., Tuesday; 5:30 p.m., August 9 and 8:30 p.m., August 10

Bill Hedrick is fluent in Klingon. When asked whether actor Phillip Schramm mastered the fake language popularized on “Star Trek,” the makeup artist balked.

In response to Hedrick’s silent disproval of his Klingon-speaking abilities, Schramm, who plays a Trekkie, simply shrugged.

“I’m young. I have time,” he joked.

Luckily, “Stuck in an Elevator with Patrick Stewart” requires no proficiency in the fictional alien language. Writer Brandon Taitt’s Fringe premiere may trade in steep references from the cult TV show, but the story gives a universal account of hero-worship.

“Stuck in an Elevator” follows a group of devoted Trekkies at a science fiction convention in 1988. When the 17-year-old Daniel finds himself stuck with his hero, the star of “Star Trek: The Next Generation,” he gushes over his idol.

“Daniel isn’t seeing Patrick Stewart,” Taitt said. “He’s seeing Captain Picard.”

In the early days of “The Next Generation,” the classically-trained British actor wanted nothing to do with “Star Trek” after the reboot’s first season.

“He felt he had made this big mistake,” Taitt said. “At the time, he was very displeased with his role.”

 Stewart initially felt antagonistic with a whole cadre of overzealous fans — none of them cared about his love of “Hamlet” or “The Merchant of Venice.” Basing much of Stewart’s objections to the show on his biography, Taitt soon found parallels in the actor’s biography and the fantasies of many Trekkies.

“He lived in a very violent household — not something you’d expect from him,” Taitt said. “He used theater as an escape to get away from that world at home.”

Thus, the escapism that Daniel finds in “Star Trek” becomes common ground in the show. “Stuck in an Elevator” finds the two diametrically opposed strangers bonding unexpectedly.

Underneath bright starship regalia, Taitt’s comedy reveals rich depiction of devoted “Star Trek” followers. None of the actors trade in the stereotypes found on “The Big Bang Theory” because they’re fully fleshed out.

“So they’re not just about pretending to be a Klingon or pretending to be Spock,” director Kevin T. Houle said. “They’re real people.”

The same way “Star Trek” unites fans with an endearing optimism, “Stuck in an Elevator” paints its Trekkie characters as human.

One-hit wander

“Wanderlust”“

Where: University of Minnesota, Rarig Center Thrust, 330 21st Ave. S., Minneapolis

When:

7 p.m., Friday; 4 p.m., Sunday; 5:30 p.m., Monday; 8:30 p.m., Tuesday and 7 p.m., August 11

Martin Dockery knew he had the beginning of a great story. In the middle of the Sahara desert, he met a Belgian couple on their way to Timbuktu, Mali.

The only thing in the way for the trio’s trek across the desert in a Land Rover: a food shortage or flat tire — anything to heighten the drama.

“I thought, ‘all we need is for something to happen,’”****** Dockery said.

The one-man show “Wanderlust” follows his autobiographical account through West Africa, but he never found a “Heart of Darkness” type of tragedy, as much as Dockery initially wanted.

“The show’s about waiting for that amazing thing to happen,” Dockery said.

In 2004, the Brooklyn storyteller embarked on the backpacking trip in need of adventure. When he returned six months later, he wanted to translate his tales into an account reflecting his own state of mind.

“Wanderlust” reflects Dockery’s gifted comic sense — he performs the show without a script, insisting that the account feels extemporaneous to crowds with each pass.

“I had this idea that I wanted to go to somewhere faraway,” Dockery said. “Timbuktu is this place that we grow up hearing as the most faraway place you can go — it’s not too far away for the people who live there.”

The comedic situations Dockery highlights in “Wanderlust” sometimes reveal the foreigner’s naivety — over the course of the play, Dockery learns to accept his story. While his tale of Mali included no truly dramatic elements, he learned to appreciate the small moments of his journey.

Throughout his career in wandering from backpacking trips in Asia and Africa, Dockery’s now made his travels fodder for insightful comedy. “Wanderlust” represents his breakthrough as the performer, who recognizes that he’s deeply embedded in the story even if sometimes he doesn’t realize it.

Silent sci-fi

“To Mars with Tesla or the Interplanetary Machinations of Evil Thomas Edison”

Where: Intermedia Arts, 2822 Lyndale Ave. S., Minneapolis

When:

7 p.m., Sunday; 5:30 p.m., Tuesday; 5:30 p.m., August 7; 8:30 p.m., August 9 and 4 p.m., August 10

J. Weldon Cobb’s 1901 novella “To Mars with Tesla” features very little interstellar travel. The pulp sci-fi story instead features ray gun-toting gangsters — in other words, Joshua English Scrimshaw used the book’s title for his Fringe show because its source material makes no sense.

Originally produced for Open Eye Figure Theater as part of “Steampunk Delusions,” Scrimshaw wrote the silent comedy “To Mars with Tesla” in hopes of rewriting a ridiculous history in the tradition of the genre.

“[It’s] taking characters from history and spinning fantastical alternate versions of them — often casting forgotten people as heroes,” Scrimshaw said.

Nikola Tesla, the real-life electrical engineer who worked for Thomas Edison, becomes the hero in “To Mars with Tesla.” Scrimshaw plays the heroic scientist as he silently travels to the red planet.

Scrimshaw and company create a living silent movie in the vein of a Buster Keaton comedy. Scored by Miriam Gerberg, a rollicking piano is the only sound that accompanies the physical gags.

“There are a lot of classic radium gags, too,” Scrimshaw said, referring to chemist Marie Curie’s role in the story.

Although no knowledge of the historical figures is required, the factual jokes heighten the comedy. One of the opening projected slides reveals the textual humor at play, relying on a fact from Tesla’s life.

“We play a lot on Tesla’s weird side,” Scrimshaw said. “He had a weird revulsion of human hair and he wasn’t really into women.”

“To Mars with Tesla” might have some of the most obscure Fringe references, but also some of the setup’s the most accessible comedy — the pseudo history only deepens the fantasy.

By: Spencer Doar

It’s supposed to bring waterfalls and fish to mind, though for some it’s just the stuff of nightmares. 

The Weisman Art Museum, finished in 1993, was designed by architect Frank Gehry.  His profile has since risen dramatically, making the Weisman’s presence a coup for the University of Minnesota. A $14 million expansion, also designed by Gehry, was completed in 2011.

The Weisman’s stainless steel exterior and the matching panels along the Washington Avenue footbridge aren’t different from some kitchen appliances.

Its convoluted metal contortions are just as prone to dirt and grime, with the added curves and twists providing more nooks and crannies that don’t get naturally cleaned with rainwater. Even the areas that do get a rinse when the heavens part still get water stains and streaks.

In spite of its abstract appearance, the Weisman gets cleaned with a mild, diluted detergent once every two years or so.  

The strangest part is that it’s done not by a janitorial crew or steel-cleaning specialists, but by the Weisman’s own staff — John Allen, the director of security and building operations, and Emily Foxen, the event coordinator.  

The weeklong cleaning process is an in-house cost-saving measure; expenditures come in at around $2,500. Quotes from specialists put the cost of a more professional clean in the tens of thousands.

Since Foxen and Allen are already Weisman employees, the majority of that $2,500 goes towards equipment — mostly the rental of a JLG aerial lift, or cherrypicker.

That’s changed since Allen took over cleaning duties from the previous director, Bill Lampe.

“I’m not as into it as [Lampe],” Allen said. “He liked to rappel down the sides [while cleaning].”

That isn’t to say that Foxen and Allen don’t have fun — the clean is certainly a break from the normal routine.

“I get to work on my tan,” Foxen joked, gesturing to hers of the farmer’s variety.

The museum is reminiscent of a foil reflector around a sunbather’s neck — at that moment, it was easy to see why people were concerned about the Weisman’s potentially blinding effect on motorists when it first opened.

A moot point, as light rail construction has detoured much of the traffic that usually putters by. But the added muck from the construction of the tracks was an added reason to get the scrub brushes out.

There’s no official word other than wait-and-see on whether train traffic will make any difference to the Weisman’s exterior. (The building did undergo vibratory testing to simulate the new rail system with satisfactory results.) 

Oh, and for the obsessively-minded: The crooked “k” in the “Frederick R. Weisman” lettering is targeted for a straightening. 

By: Spencer Doar

Apparently it is pretty damn tough to find a good bagel in Texas.    

In the end, that’s a good thing for punk band Parquet Courts, which has three members from the Lone Star State.    

Vocalist and guitar player Andrew Savage ended up bonding with bass player Sean Yeaton over this predicament one hung-over morning after Yeaton’s band had played at Savage’s house.    

Yeaton, from Boston, just wanted a bagel, but all the places Savage could think of were donut shops. This experience eventually turned into the song “Donuts Only.”   

Savage, his drumming brother Max Savage, guitarist Austin Brown and Yeaton serendipitously re-acquainted in Brooklyn, forming Parquet Courts.

“If nothing else, the bagel situation is a totally different son of a [expletive],” Savage said.   

It isn’t just the bagel situation that’s changed. Parquet Courts released critically acclaimed record “Light Up Gold” in 2012, were named a “band to watch” by Rolling Stone in April and last weekend found themselves playing for a raging crowd on the small stage at the Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago.   

Other than the sound check anxious fans had to sit through — an unfortunate byproduct of Pitchfork’s scheduling setup —   Parquet Courts wasted little time, playing fast and loud with next to no banter except for a few cursory words of thanks.   

Yeaton nodded his head to the pounding of Max’s drumming so hard it’s a wonder that he didn’t give himself whiplash.   

Max uses Ahead sticks, made with durable, replaceable polyurethane sleeves that last longer than any wooden drumstick — they’re used by the hardest of players who break a lot of sticks.   

Andrew’s rapid-fire verses are true-blue punk, and their group choruses have the “anthemic” quality that makes the youngsters go nuts, fists in the air and singing along.   

That was exactly the case with their catchy track “Stoned and Starving,” which details just such an experience while also serving as a perfect metaphor for the unsatisfactory drudgery that life inevitably contains.      

They’re serious but with the glib, humorous side of a group that is exploring more than just anger or disenfranchisement.   

By: Spencer Doar

Apparently it is pretty damn tough to find a good bagel in Texas.    

In the end, that’s a good thing for punk band Parquet Courts, which has three members from the Lone Star State.    

Vocalist and guitar player Andrew Savage ended up bonding with bass player Sean Yeaton over this predicament one hung-over morning after Yeaton’s band had played at Savage’s house.    

Yeaton, from Boston, just wanted a bagel, but all the places Savage could think of were donut shops. This experience eventually turned into the song “Donuts Only.”   

Savage, his drumming brother Max Savage, guitarist Austin Brown and Yeaton serendipitously re-acquainted in Brooklyn, forming Parquet Courts.

“If nothing else, the bagel situation is a totally different son of a [expletive],” Savage said.   

It isn’t just the bagel situation that’s changed. Parquet Courts released critically acclaimed record “Light Up Gold” in 2012, were named a “band to watch” by Rolling Stone in April and last weekend found themselves playing for a raging crowd on the small stage at the Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago.   

Other than the sound check anxious fans had to sit through — an unfortunate byproduct of Pitchfork’s scheduling setup —   Parquet Courts wasted little time, playing fast and loud with next to no banter except for a few cursory words of thanks.   

Yeaton nodded his head to the pounding of Max’s drumming so hard it’s a wonder that he didn’t give himself whiplash.   

Max uses Ahead sticks, made with durable, replaceable polyurethane sleeves that last longer than any wooden drumstick — they’re used by the hardest of players who break a lot of sticks.   

Andrew’s rapid-fire verses are true-blue punk, and their group choruses have the “anthemic” quality that makes the youngsters go nuts, fists in the air and singing along.   

That was exactly the case with their catchy track “Stoned and Starving,” which details just such an experience while also serving as a perfect metaphor for the unsatisfactory drudgery that life inevitably contains.      

They’re serious but with the glib, humorous side of a group that is exploring more than just anger or disenfranchisement.   

By: Spencer Doar

Apparently it is pretty damn tough to find a good bagel in Texas.    

In the end, that’s a good thing for punk band Parquet Courts, which has three members from the Lone Star State.    

Vocalist and guitar player Andrew Savage ended up bonding with bass player Sean Yeaton over this predicament one hung-over morning after Yeaton’s band had played at Savage’s house.    

Yeaton, from Boston, just wanted a bagel, but all the places Savage could think of were donut shops. This experience eventually turned into the song “Donuts Only.”   

Savage, his drumming brother Max Savage, guitarist Austin Brown and Yeaton serendipitously re-acquainted in Brooklyn, forming Parquet Courts.

“If nothing else, the bagel situation is a totally different son of a [expletive],” Savage said.   

It isn’t just the bagel situation that’s changed. Parquet Courts released critically acclaimed record “Light Up Gold” in 2012, were named a “band to watch” by Rolling Stone in April and last weekend found themselves playing for a raging crowd on the small stage at the Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago.   

Other than the sound check anxious fans had to sit through — an unfortunate byproduct of Pitchfork’s scheduling setup —   Parquet Courts wasted little time, playing fast and loud with next to no banter except for a few cursory words of thanks.   

Yeaton nodded his head to the pounding of Max’s drumming so hard it’s a wonder that he didn’t give himself whiplash.   

Max uses Ahead sticks, made with durable, replaceable polyurethane sleeves that last longer than any wooden drumstick — they’re used by the hardest of players who break a lot of sticks.   

Andrew’s rapid-fire verses are true-blue punk, and their group choruses have the “anthemic” quality that makes the youngsters go nuts, fists in the air and singing along.   

That was exactly the case with their catchy track “Stoned and Starving,” which details just such an experience while also serving as a perfect metaphor for the unsatisfactory drudgery that life inevitably contains.      

They’re serious but with the glib, humorous side of a group that is exploring more than just anger or disenfranchisement.   

By: Spencer Doar

It was easy to tell that Sunday was going to be the best day at Pitchfork Music Festival when a crowd was already forming at noon to see the day’s third act, Foxygen, playing at an early 1:45 p.m.

The fans were not disappointed.

Two songs into the set, lead singer Sam France had already climbed high up the scaffolding on the side of the stage (the only artist to do so), bashed his drummer’s cymbals with bare hands and inadvertently gave the audience some plumber’s butt when his pajama pants fell down.

France’s physical antics were mirrored by the music that Sunday — much crazier in person.

Their 2013 album, “We Are the 21st Century Ambassadors of Peace & Magic,” is a fuzzy throwback piece, at times mirroring the sound of early Rolling Stones, the bluesy folksiness of Dylan instrumentation and later acid-washed Doors material.

Off that album comes their best-known song, “Shuggie,” a lazy track with vocals that waft over the hook like the smell of fresh baked bread.

While the thread of psychedelia still shined as bright as the sun that Sunday, Foxygen had a more pronounced alt-noise sound live — less acid, more PCP and booze.

In fact, the sun was so bright that keyboard and guitar player Jonathan Rado had to take extra time between songs since he couldn’t see the readings on his tuner.

This gave them some dead airtime to riff.

“It’s so bright,” Rado said. “My feet are hot.”

“Oh, it’s so bright,” France mimicked.

“Fuck you, Sam,” Rado said.

“Fuck you, Sam,” France echoed.

That interaction, and those that followed, would have eclipsed the actual set for those not into what Foxygen were serving and, while in good fun, might have been the sign of something deeper.

“We have too much band drama,” Rado said after the set, refusing to elaborate.

But during Foxygen’s freewheeling performance, it was all goofiness. Since they were in M.J.’s home city, Rado took a moment to mention how much he loves “Space Jam,” asking audience members with smartphones to check out how the original website hasn’t changed since the release of the film in 1996.

It really hasn’t.

Over the course of the 40 minutes, they took time to thank ATMs, ESPN, President Barack Obama, AOL, Red Bull, Batman, The Roots and Wilco.

With all the nonsense during the set, some would slam Foxygen as immature.

But then you see them take the time to chill on the grass with reporters and fans alike, signing autographs, answering questions and smoking cigarettes in the afternoon heat when they don’t have to.

Foxygen: they’re still amazed by their success and inexperienced with being known offstage.

What: Foxygen

When: 8 p.m., Monday

Where: First Avenue Mainroom, 701 N. First Ave., Minneapolis

Cost: $13 advance, $15 at the door

Ages: 18+

By: Spencer Doar

It was easy to tell that Sunday was going to be the best day at Pitchfork Music Festival when a crowd was already forming at noon to see the day’s third act, Foxygen, playing at an early 1:45 p.m.

The fans were not disappointed.

Two songs into the set, lead singer Sam France had already climbed high up the scaffolding on the side of the stage (the only artist to do so), bashed his drummer’s cymbals with bare hands and inadvertently gave the audience some plumber’s butt when his pajama pants fell down.

France’s physical antics were mirrored by the music that Sunday — much crazier in person.

Their 2013 album, “We Are the 21st Century Ambassadors of Peace & Magic,” is a fuzzy throwback piece, at times mirroring the sound of early Rolling Stones, the bluesy folksiness of Dylan instrumentation and later acid-washed Doors material.

Off that album comes their best-known song, “Shuggie,” a lazy track with vocals that waft over the hook like the smell of fresh baked bread.

While the thread of psychedelia still shined as bright as the sun that Sunday, Foxygen had a more pronounced alt-noise sound live — less acid, more PCP and booze.

In fact, the sun was so bright that keyboard and guitar player Jonathan Rado had to take extra time between songs since he couldn’t see the readings on his tuner.

This gave them some dead airtime to riff.

“It’s so bright,” Rado said. “My feet are hot.”

“Oh, it’s so bright,” France mimicked.

“Fuck you, Sam,” Rado said.

“Fuck you, Sam,” France echoed.

That interaction, and those that followed, would have eclipsed the actual set for those not into what Foxygen were serving and, while in good fun, might have been the sign of something deeper.

“We have too much band drama,” Rado said after the set, refusing to elaborate.

But during Foxygen’s freewheeling performance, it was all goofiness. Since they were in M.J.’s home city, Rado took a moment to mention how much he loves “Space Jam,” asking audience members with smartphones to check out how the original website hasn’t changed since the release of the film in 1996.

It really hasn’t.

Over the course of the 40 minutes, they took time to thank ATMs, ESPN, President Barack Obama, AOL, Red Bull, Batman, The Roots and Wilco.

With all the nonsense during the set, some would slam Foxygen as immature.

But then you see them take the time to chill on the grass with reporters and fans alike, signing autographs, answering questions and smoking cigarettes in the afternoon heat when they don’t have to.

Foxygen: they’re still amazed by their success and inexperienced with being known offstage.

What: Foxygen

When: 8 p.m., Monday

Where: First Avenue Mainroom, 701 N. First Ave., Minneapolis

Cost: $13 advance, $15 at the door

Ages: 18+

By: Spencer Doar

It was easy to tell that Sunday was going to be the best day at Pitchfork Music Festival when a crowd was already forming at noon to see the day’s third act, Foxygen, playing at an early 1:45 p.m.

The fans were not disappointed.

Two songs into the set, lead singer Sam France had already climbed high up the scaffolding on the side of the stage (the only artist to do so), bashed his drummer’s cymbals with bare hands and inadvertently gave the audience some plumber’s butt when his pajama pants fell down.

France’s physical antics were mirrored by the music that Sunday — much crazier in person.

Their 2013 album, “We Are the 21st Century Ambassadors of Peace & Magic,” is a fuzzy throwback piece, at times mirroring the sound of early Rolling Stones, the bluesy folksiness of Dylan instrumentation and later acid-washed Doors material.

Off that album comes their best-known song, “Shuggie,” a lazy track with vocals that waft over the hook like the smell of fresh baked bread.

While the thread of psychedelia still shined as bright as the sun that Sunday, Foxygen had a more pronounced alt-noise sound live — less acid, more PCP and booze.

In fact, the sun was so bright that keyboard and guitar player Jonathan Rado had to take extra time between songs since he couldn’t see the readings on his tuner.

This gave them some dead airtime to riff.

“It’s so bright,” Rado said. “My feet are hot.”

“Oh, it’s so bright,” France mimicked.

“Fuck you, Sam,” Rado said.

“Fuck you, Sam,” France echoed.

That interaction, and those that followed, would have eclipsed the actual set for those not into what Foxygen were serving and, while in good fun, might have been the sign of something deeper.

“We have too much band drama,” Rado said after the set, refusing to elaborate.

But during Foxygen’s freewheeling performance, it was all goofiness. Since they were in M.J.’s home city, Rado took a moment to mention how much he loves “Space Jam,” asking audience members with smartphones to check out how the original website hasn’t changed since the release of the film in 1996.

It really hasn’t.

Over the course of the 40 minutes, they took time to thank ATMs, ESPN, President Barack Obama, AOL, Red Bull, Batman, The Roots and Wilco.

With all the nonsense during the set, some would slam Foxygen as immature.

But then you see them take the time to chill on the grass with reporters and fans alike, signing autographs, answering questions and smoking cigarettes in the afternoon heat when they don’t have to.

Foxygen: they’re still amazed by their success and inexperienced with being known offstage.

What: Foxygen

When: 8 p.m., Monday

Where: First Avenue Mainroom, 701 N. First Ave., Minneapolis

Cost: $13 advance, $15 at the door

Ages: 18+