I'm going to assume most of Rift's readers are already aware of the Minnesota Music Academy Awards, as this magazine is the only one in town fully dedicated to local music.
For those not in the know, the Minnesota Music Academy is just that: An organization committed to the music that comes out of, or stays in, Minnesota. Other music cities such as Nashville, Chicago and Detroit have comparable organizations.
Once a year since 1980, the MMA gives an award to the top musicians in 50 categories. This year, however, voting for who went on the ballot was opened to the general public. Because of this (and only because of this, I imagine) Screaming Mechanical Brain was nominated for our album "There Is No God In Space."
Well I was just tickled pink, as well as pretty damn surprised, since we spend most of our time out of town and tend to be a shade neglectful of Minneapolis. Nevertheless, a touch of recognition from our hometown was ours – and it was a warm, fuzzy feeling.
I later found out we'd be up against some of our old pals in the local metal scene: Smilin' Liar for "So Mrs. Kennedy, How Was the Drive?" and Black Flood Diesel for "Darkness Rising," among others.
This would be fun, I thought to myself, a friendly competition, a dog and pony show and as luck would have it, we weren't on tour the week of the awards ceremony. I'd get my chance to go and see what it was all about. Mind you, I kept any excitement in check.
First of all, in this line of work, you have to make friends with disappointment and secondly, if we were to win, not much would change. Maybe we'd sell a few extra copies of our album from local stores, or maybe get invited to play a show or two we wouldn't normally have received, but it certainly wouldn't be our free ticket to fortune and fame. That and our chances were just as arbitrary as anyone else's.
Only MMA members could vote, but it cost $25 to join and you can pick your favorites without being obligated to compare and contrast. In other words, it's not as if a panel of scholars, music theory teachers, producers, label executives and Prince himself all sat down and listened to our record and decided whether or not it was better than any others. Which is all fine and good, but I kept this in mind going in, making sure not to get too hyped up.
The night of the awards show, I got all dolled up in my black pinstripe suit, black shirt, white tie and these huge ugly Elton John sunglasses I found. With my lovely date at my side, I was ready to go and enjoy the ceremony.
While I waited in line, I started to get nervous in spite of myself and not in the 'there's a lot of people here in this place downtown' kind of way, or even the 'I might have to speak in front of people' kind of way. Both of those things I've actually grown fond of over the years. It was the old 'I'm an unpopular weirdo and I'm in high school again' feeling.
I'd discovered earlier the name of our album was misspelled on the ballot as "These Is No God In Space" and now was thinking maybe they wouldn't let me in. They'd think I was a fraud and throw me to the wolves. My fears were laid to rest, however, as I was allowed to pass safely inside.
Once inside, it was the same old First Avenue. The same club where I first saw GWAR when I was 15 and the same club where we'd rocked a capacity crowd just last year. I wouldn't say it feels like home, but there's an old familiarity and it mellowed me out some. A few familiar faces emerged from a sea of people I didn't recognize, among them were Jendeen and Tempest from Harsh Reality, a British chap named Nigel, a guy who works for TC Muzique and my dear old friend Ryan Mach (the band he drums for was nominated as well). It was he who originally informed me we were both nominated. Ryan told me that he and others who voted for his band checked our box as well.
Several other people told me this throughout the night and at first it made me feel pretty confident, but it faded as I remembered this is how everyone votes, and many of the votes we got were from people who'd never even listened to our record, let alone the others on the ballot. This could take some of the sting out of losing, but would certainly take any honor and prestige out of winning.
I was getting anxious. I was beginning to lose track of how many gin and tonics I drank. The live groups were, for the most part, decent and diverse, which was good because even if I'm not a fan of something, I enjoy bluegrass a little more when techno comes right after it. The crowd was thinning as people left once the winners of their categories were announced and to be honest, I wasn't really paying much attention to what the presenters were saying anymore.
I looked at the screen periodically to keep score, mainly for the hell of it, as I hadn't heard too many of the winners or losers, and only picked out a handful of names I'd seen once or twice on flyers around the city.
Then the moment of truth came: Our number was up.
We went downstairs to better hear what everyone was saying. They had the Roller Girls get up and read the Hard Rock Album awards (this lifted my spirits a bit, as we are down with the Roller Girls; we're playing one of their bouts in November). The one reading the names for Hard Rock Album seemed a little confused when she got to us and she read "These Is No God in Space." I think she knew it was wrong, but on stage, under hot lights and intense scrutiny, you read what the card says. So, in my loudest of outside voices I shouted "THERE Is No God In Space!" I corrected the error, but it was to no avail. The Best Hard Rock album to come out of Minneapolis this year was made by some band with a girl singer who won a contest to open for Bon Jovi, once.
With this new information in hand, I decided I'd learned enough that night to write an article and took my leave. I wasn't too depressed by this turn of events; I didn't expect to win going in and I was just kind of happy to be nominated and invited.
In the end, I have no hard feelings. The MMA is a good thing and it reminds us all we live in a city with a very large and diverse music scene.
In my travels, I've found there are cities with bigger music scenes that generate more national acts, but those cities barely have any decent venues, surprisingly few local bands and almost no press about their music scene.
There aren't many cities that hold a candle to Minneapolis. Around here, you can go to 10 different places, seven nights a week and find live, original local music. We're very lucky to have this; it's certainly not the case everywhere you go.
John Wheeler IV is Screaming Mechanical Brain's vocalist and keyboardist.
www.smbband.com
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