This page is about the legendary clubs that have been located at the corner of Seventh Street No. and First Ave. No. in Minneapolis.

I. INTRODUCTION

First I’ll lay out some things to take into consideration when reading this page, introduce the founders of the Depot, and direct you to my sources.

II. THE MUSIC

Next is the story of the music and other goings-on at the Depot, Uncle Sam’s, and Sam’s, with ads, posters, photos, tickets, show reviews, etc.

III. BEFORE THE MUSIC

This section looks at the history of the site, going back to its first uses – as a grade school, believe it or not – an office building/bus station, and of course the City’s Greyhound bus depot. This is undoubtedly more than you’ll ever want to know, but this is called going down the rabbit hole…

IV. HISTORY OF THE COMMITTEE, INC.



The last section focuses on the history of the organization that started the Depot and owned each club until First Avenue’s bankruptcy in 2004. This includes the people who turned an old bus terminal into the hippest place in town, and the machinations that happened along the way.

I. INTRODUCTION



NOTES

As a rule, this entire website focuses on Twin Cities music through 1974 but I’ve made a slight exception here. This page will cover the Depot, which began in 1970; Uncle Sam’s, which began in 1972; and Sam’s, which began in 1980. 7th Street Entry (March 21, 1980) and First Avenue (January 1, 1982) will not be covered here, except for information on the Committee in Section IV.

About the address: during the bus station, Depot, and Uncle Sam’s days, the address of the building was given as 29 Seventh Street No. At some point it reverted to its actual address of 701 First Ave. No. How the other address came into play is a question to be answered.

A bit of trivia: First Avenue was originally called Utah Avenue.

And just so I don’t have to keep repeating it, Will Jones was the wonderful entertainment columnist for the Minneapolis Tribune. Yes, he was a little old to appreciate rock venues, and those “girl watching” features wouldn’t pass the muster today, but his columns held a wealth of information about popular culture and what was going on around Minneapolis. Thank goodness for Will Jones!

THE FOUNDERS

The following are thumbnail sketches of the four original members of The Committee, the organization that created the Depot.

DANNY STEVENS

Danny Stevens was always very athletic, participating in water skiing and Golden Gloves Boxing from ages 10 to 17. He graduated from West High School in 1961, and studied pre-med at the University of Minnesota. In 1964 his first band, Danny and the Nightsounds, won the Battle of the Bands at the 1964 Teen Fair at the State Fair. Later that year he started Danny’s Reasons, a tremendously successful band that would last for decades and include many different members along the way. Danny’s Reasons played in dozens of local clubs in the area. The band was inducted into the Mid-America Music Hall of Fame in 2007.

Statements made by or information received from Danny are marked (DS)

ALLAN FINGERHUT

Allan was the son of Manny Fingerhut, who had founded Fingerhut Manufacturing Co., a company that started out making seat covers for cars. The Fingerhut catalog empire created innovative ways for people to buy goods on time and with a special Fingerhut credit card. This made Manny a millionaire. Allan was one of Manny and Rose’s three children. He was born in 1944 and graduated from St. Louis Park High School in 1962. After high school he attended the New York School of Design, and served in the Army.

Statements made by or information received from Allan are marked (AF).

SHARRON FINGERHUT

Sharron was married to Allan from 1965 to 1974, and they had two children. Sharron served as the Secretary and/or Treasurer of The Committee from 1970 to 1976. Her last name is now Grohoski.

ABBY ROSENTHAL

Abbott “Abby” Rosenthal graduated from St. Louis Park High School High School in 1959. He was tapped to be the first General Manager of the Depot because he had filled the same job at George’s in the Park in St. Louis Park. Abby was not with the Depot for very long. He was an artist when he died in 2016.

SOURCES

I went ’round and ’round about where to put my sources. I have made a special effort to credit each source I’ve used, and there are a lot of them. The list is identified by abbreviations that are used throughout this page, so you might want to refer to them as you read. So I decided to put them on a separate page so you can toggle between them instead of scrolling up and down. I hope that is useful. If not, please let me know.

II. THE MUSIC



In this section I will try to list as many of the shows presented at the Depot, Uncle Sam’s, and Sam’s as I’ve been able to find, augmented with reviews, photos, posters, and anything else floating around. I’m sure there were many more shows to find. Ads are from the Minneapolis Star and Tribune unless otherwise attributed. Please note that the synopses of the reviews are my interpretations of longer articles. If you have any photos or stories to share, and by all means if you have any corrections, please contact me!

EARLY PRESS

January 10, 1970, Connie’s Insider : Connie Hechter was the editor of Connie’s Insider, a music magazine that started in 1967 and ran until Connie’s death in 1978.

Connie got the jump on the first press announcement of the new club, even before the application for the liquor license was submitted:

Danny Stevens and Abby Rosenthal will team together (Rosenthal formerly was with the management at George’s in the Park) to open the defunct, or vacated Bus Depot….the old one. It will make a great club and is an outstanding downtown Minneapolis location, if Ted Mann doesn’t build a theatre on the property in the near future. He owns the land, so I’m told. He also owns most of the show houses downtown.

February 7, 1970, Connie’s Insider : “Oh yes, the new club that Danny Stevens and Abby Rosenthal will open in April is also co-owned by Allan Fingerhut. I forgot to mention that in the last issue. In fact, if it wasn’t for Mr. Fingerhut, there would be no Depot.”

HELP WANTED AND MORE PRESS



On February 20, 1970, this ad appeared in the Minneapolis Star. It was a different time, folks.

February 22, 1970, Minneapolis Tribune : An article by Allan Holbert was called “Shops, Night Club to Open.” Interesting that he listed the shops first.

Original caption: Danny Stevens, left; Allan and Sharron Fingerhut; Abbott Rosenthal

Holbert:

Management

Owner of the Depot is a new corporation called the Committee. Allan Fingerhut, whose family is a major owner of the Fingerhut Manufacturing Corp., is chairman of the board. Danny Stevens, head of Danny’s Reasons rock band, is president.

Managing the 40 or so employees will be Abby Rosenthal, former manager of George’s in the Park.

With regard to the shops, the article gave out with some very ambitious plans, which didn’t materialize:

Two clothing stores: I, Ross East-West Ltd.

A Record shop

A Novelty shop

Three bars (there were eventually at least five). One of the bars, The Second Floor of the World, “will have low-priced drinks and is expected to attract some of the 5 o’clock trade of young working people who now frequent such places as Buster’s and Duff’s.”

Holbert noted that the venue would be opened by Joe Cocker on April 3 and 4 (which it was), but also listed other bookings of the Vanilla Fudge for April 10 and 11 and Janis Joplin for April 18 and 19 – neither shows eventually panned out.

February 24, 1970 – Minneapolis Star Allan is quoted as saying the acoustics in the building were perfect – “despite the memories of some past bus riders of unintelligible public address calls there.” The new corporation was called The Committee, with Fingerhut acting as chairman of the board and Stevens as president.

February 28, 1970, Connie’s Insider : “Joe Cocker is booked for the opening weekend of the Depot in Minneapolis, scheduled for April 3rd, I believe. This club has got everything going for it. Admission for the Cocker opening will be $3. You have to be 21 to make the scene at the Depot. By the way, Danny Stevens assures me that the Depot will go out of its way to play new, upcoming bands, in addition to the best in local talent.”

March 21, 1970, Connie’s Insider

The Committee advertised heavily in Connie’s Insider before its first show, but not very much thereafter.

Page 30: THE COMMITTEE PRESENTS National & Local Rock Talent 6 Big Nights a week. 3 Bars; Restaurant; Boutiques; Just the beginning of the Midwest’s finest and largest Nite Club Theater. Featuring National Talent.

Page 32: HAPPINESS IS A GUY NAMED JOE! FOLLOW THE SEARCHLIGHTS APRIL 3 FOR A NICE TRIP! (Old Greyhound Depot) Downtown Minneapolis

Page 35: Fillmore Avalon, Electric Theater, and now “The Committee” Presents “The Depot,” Opening April 3 & 4 with Joe Cocker and the Grease Band … Total Kinetic Environmental Lights and Sound by Tomorrow Inc. of California * Open 6 Nights a Week * Complete Restaurant * Boutiques * Indoor Parking * Need We Say More?

March 29, 1970, Minneapolis Tribune : “A Short Wait at The Depot”

Danny Stevens, hanging in there on the left side of the scaffold, and his band, The Reasons, posed last week in the former Greyhound Bus Terminal, 7th St. and 1st Av. N., which is due to open Friday as a night club called The Depot. Stevens, president of the corporation that owns the operation, and the others appeared confident that redecorating will be completed in time.

INTERIOR OF THE DEPOT

The interior was designed by John Neil, with many of the walls decorated with huge pop murals done by West Bank painters. The decor was purple, with purple shag carpet on the stage. The purple was in honor of the Minnesota Vikings, who had come to town nine years earlier.

The Depot was still being hammered and sawed up to the last minute. Here’s a bird’s eye view of what it looked like in the very early days.

There was at least one large picture of the Beatles on the wall – the closest photo found is this one from the Ramsey Lewis show, where part of one is seen up on the balcony. Perhaps a foreshadowing of the John Lennon Tributes that take place each year on December 8, led by Curtiss A.

Another photo from that Ramsey Lewis Show gives us an idea of what a sold-out show looked like back in the Depot days. The round things on the left are some sort of decor.

HOUSE BANDS

Although Danny’s Reasons were reported to be one of the house bands, they mostly only played Beer and Wine Nights on Mondays. (DS) Frequent house bands were more likely to be:

Grizzly

Suite Charity

Ned

Crockett

The Sir Raleighs (who became Copperhead)

Big Island

JOE COCKER OPENS THE DEPOT

The Depot opened on April 3 and 4, 1970, and an estimated 2,300 people came to the club over the two days to see the Mad Dogs and Englishman tour featuring Joe Cocker.

A photo of the poster was found being held by Cocker himself on the night of the opening!

Let’s bullet the factoids:

Bill Graham had helped them line up Santana for the opener but it didn’t work out. (CR)

Leon Russell was the musical director of this American tour, which descended on 48 cities over 60 days.

The movie Woodstock, which introduced Cocker to many Americans for the first time, had just hit theaters a week earlier, so the timing was excellent.

Personnel included 20 musicians, another 20 Englishmen on stage just for fun, two or three kids (allegedly on acid), and characters like the Lunar Teacake Snake Man, the Ruby-Lipped Essence of Lubbock, Texas, and the Mad Professor. Here’s one of the toddlers:

The enormous group of back-up singers was called the Space Choir. (CR) Two of the more famous members would be Rita Coolidge and Merry Clayton.

Backup singer Pamela Polland’s fox terrier, Canina, had the run of the place, and infuriated Allan when she pooped on the stage. (CR) Here’s the dog, complete with “Cocker Power” tag.

Tony Swan of the Twin Citian reported that Cocker was paid $15,000 for the weekend.

Cocker’s manager demanded more money during the show, claiming that the booker low-balled the number of people expected. (CR, DS)

The Depot was the smallest venue on the tour, which had started two weeks before. (CR)

Cocker’s people didn’t know they were inaugurating the new club. (CR)

Allan ordered 2,000 carnations, which were thrown back and forth between the audience and the performers. (AF)

On opening night it cost only $4 to get in, but there was a $10 charge to sit down, with much poaching of seats going on.

In an interview on March 30, 2018, for Channel 5 news, Danny Stevens recalled, “Joe Cocker, I thought, was a real gentleman. I remember picking the whole group up at the airport. They came in on their own plane.”

Johnny Canton, Program Director of WDGY Radio, acted as MC for the show.

LOCAL ACTS

The Del Counts performed between sets on April 3. After that came classical music accompanying Roadrunner cartoons. On April 4 the supporting acts were Kaleidoscope and the Paisleys. Connie’s Insider reported that booker Marsh Edelstein was upset that publicity about the concert did not include the local bands. [Another account says that Pride and Joy performed, and Cricket was scheduled but was bumped for time.]

REVIEWS OF OPENING NIGHT



MARSHALL FINE

Marshall Fine’s review of opening night in the Minneapolis Star was scathing, citing bad planning, expensive drinks, a long wait to get in, an opening band that was “terrible,” and the fact that Cocker’s first set was only 20 minutes long. Fine was a student at the U of M at the time, and complained that the under-21 crowd couldn’t get in. He did appreciate the “exquisite show” put on by Cocker, but said that the “audience’s response was comparable to that of an equally drunk group shouting ‘take it off’ at the Roaring 20s.”

ALLAN HOLBERT

Allan Holbert’s review in the Tribune’s was more focused on the sheer numbers of people who showed up, saying that people were lined up four-deep around the block. “Not since the truck drivers’ strike of 1934 is it likely that there has been such excitement, such chaos, such congestion, such noise just off Hennepin Av. as there was Friday night.” Allan Fingerhut said that they ran out of booze by 8:00 and had to send out for more.

Holbert’s account, which later calls the space the Fillmore Upper Midwest, says that carpeting and other interior decorations weren’t yet installed, but the old bus station was packed by the time Cocker hit the stage just after 8 p.m. Cocker worked hard on a stage filled with 40 people, “singing like a black man, which he isn’t and doing his dancing stuff like a spastic, which he isn’t either.”

TWIN CITIAN

Tony Swan’s account in the May issue of the Twin Citian said that the “beautiful people,” many wearing “Cocker Power” buttons, numbered 2,000, which was 600 over capacity. He said that the first show was a dud, with too much noise and confusion and older people holding their ears and beautiful people “with resplendent sun tans and $250 hippie outfits” more interested in checking each other out than listening to the music. But between sets “the ingredients underwent an important purge. A lot of the older people, having seen enough, went out the door shaking their heads in disbelief, their ears ringing. The beautiful people made a determined and lengthy run on the bar, lowering their inhibitions in direct proportion. And the hard core rock freaks moved in on the privileged table area, surrounding it, engulfing it.”

During the second set, “Everyone – everyone – began swaying in time to the music, which became so loud that it was beyond the audible – it was simply deafening. People began throwing flowers onto the stage and the musicians began throwing them back, strengthening the two-way process. … And Cocker kept pouring more and more of himself through those big banks of amps… until he was finished and just stood there, smiling amid all the flowers.” Fingerhut had provided the Carnations.

Swan’s article gives a detailed description of the Scene:

The curved wall which used to embrace the gates to departing buses is now the backdrop for a large, purple plush-covered stage. On the wall above the stage, Cinemascope style, there is a large screen. While the performers are wailing, batteries of projectors – in all eight carousel slide projectors, four opaque projectors and a 16-milimeter movie camera – shoot images onto the screen from either end of the horseshoe shaped balcony which surrounds the main floor. There are also colored spotlights and strobe lights – all the usual implements of psychedelia. There are five bars, three on the main floor and two on the balcony. There is a large, prime table area right in front of the stage: on opening night the tables went for 10 bucks a head, which could get to be a drag on the Depot’s income potential in the future.

MINNEAPOLIS FLAG



A reviewer named Greg noted in the April 10, 1970, issue of the underground magazine The Minneapolis Flag that what seemed like the entire Tactical Division of the Minneapolis Police Force (off duty) had been hired as floorwalkers and bouncers.

WILL JONES

Will Jones tried to cover the opening, but the sound inflicted so much physical pain that he speculated that the young people had developed leather eardrums to survive.

What’s been created there is an environment in which no creature born before 1940 can survive. …

The generation-communications gap may be entirely a physical thing, you know. I never wanted to communicate with one of these creatures more in my life than when a lush, bell-bottomed, dewy-smiling young blonde came over to me and moved her lips in a way that I knew, from experience in the outside world, meant that she was speaking to me. But the only sound I could hear was that which came from the amps. I stared at her, dumb and helpless. Maybe she thought I began to cry, but the tears that came to my eyes were as much from the smoke, I’m sure, as from frustration. That’s another thing that the sound does in places where these creatures and their favorite performers gather. It blocks the ventilating system with great globs of sound, and no smoke ever escapes a club or all in which rock music is performed, no matter how well-intentioned the architects and engineers may have been.

Jones lasted about three minutes until he and his wife escaped to more sedate environs.

CONNIE’S INSIDER

Connie Hechter’s review in his April 11 – 18, 1970, issue was evenhanded, citing both the positive and negative aspects of the venue and the show. He even reviews the other reviews. It’s a long piece, but I’d like to quote it in full.

Depot Opens With a Cocker Named Joe

The long heralded opening of The Depot, Minneapolis’ newest downtown night spot, took place last weekend, April 3 and 4, with that great white blues singer, Joe Cocker and his pop version of the Beverly Hillbillies in residence on the large, well-lit stage which workmen, working in mass confusion with great pressure to ready the joint in time, finished minutes before the overflowing crowds swelled into the club.

The reviews [of the club] in the daily papers were mixed. Some critics liked the club, but others seemed to miss the entire potential capabilities of the Depot becoming one of the great havens for entertainment in the Midwest if not in the entire country.

First off, the Depot can be the ideal night spot for rock or any other kind of entertainment. The place is big enough to hold more than a thousand customers, with seating for several hundreds. Many night clubs suffer from lack of size (you need lots of people to support the acts people want to see, as most name acts are priced in the “expensive” category). I mean, imagine a bus depot for a night club…. What could be better? Besides, the Depot just happens to be located in the heart of the downtown loop, a short block off our “great white way.”

Next, the man guiding the Depot’s operations and footing the bill for the massive decoration required, Allan Fingerhut, poured hundreds of thousands into his project, unlike some clubs which open with a bare minimum of capital and decoration. Fingerhut and his sidemen, Danny Stevens, Abby Rosenthal, Skip Goucher, and Clearance (sic) Kramer did most everything in a first-class manner. The fact that some parts of the operation did not function accordingly on opening weekend could only be attributed to a rush, rush schedule to get the doors open in time which translates to lack of planning and organization. This will straighten itself out, as Mr. Fingerhut and company, known as Allan’s Committee, are well aware of the shortcomings that took place last weekend.

So now you have a big club done up in a more-than-respectable atmosphere with accent on the mod generation, the young hip people who make things happen.

Did anyone take close notice of the superb light show and screen upon which it was reflected? It was a real, wraparound screen that does justice to the best Cinerama pavilion in town…. Not a bunch of sheets stringed together, hanging from the ceiling. Not that anything is wrong with a bunch of sheets, but imagine what it’s like to work with an honest-to-goodness screen.

The sound system is good, and the acoustics are excellent for a musical rock show. (More about this later.)

Perhaps the best thing about the Depot as far as catching rock acts within its walls is the important fact that one can buy a drink, unlike catching a show at the Auditorium or Armory etc. One doesn’t expect to buy drinks at the latter, but imagine digging an act with a cold glass in your hand (you over 21 people).

Perhaps now you can begin to comprehend the possibilities this club can provide. Not only rock shows but big bands and small circuses can perform now in downtown Minneapolis.

Many people were miffed that the opening scene was so crowded and the promised tables were not available, as people were sitting everywhere, whether or not they held tickets for tables. This situation never should have happened; monitors should have seen the $10 ticket holders and the press to their tables. But again, the schedule was so hectic that the place was lucky to get the doors open. Now that they did that, they can worry about the reservations and such, and the public will have to forgive the mix-ups experienced on April 3 and 4.

Other people greeted with shock the news that the club is off limits to the under 21 crowd. This is a shame for those in this category, but it is unavoidable, as the Depot dispenses liquor and beer.

One reviewer commented that the Depot is missing a substantial market by not allowing the kids into the shows. The management is well aware of this. However, they opened a night club with booze, and did not intend it to be a concert hall for the younger people. Perhaps they will provide concerts on weekend afternoons for those who cannot legally attend during evening hours.

There are those betting that the club will not “make it” for six months. I’m betting it will, provided Fingerhut tightens up the operation, sells drinks to the masses, and provides us with good national and local acts. He says this is exactly what is planned, so let’s get behind the Committee and help Allan and his gang in their efforts to make the joint successful.

[A photo of Fingerhut bears the caption:] Cocker and his Mad Dog musicians put on one of the greatest shows of the year, so far. Allan Fingerhut, left, owner and guiding hand of the Depot, smiles as the pressure to get his club open in time is off. He was happy with the results of the club’s opening weekend. And he enjoyed the Cocker show. So did 2,300 other people over the two night stand.

MAD DOGS AND ENGLISHMEN

The shows were filmed and appeared in the movie “Mad Dogs and Englishmen” along with other shows on the same tour.

The first time the movie came to local screens it came and went fairly quickly.

CIRCUS MAGAZINE

Mike Barich’s photo of Cocker – holding a carnation – appeared on the cover of the August 1970 issue of Circus magazine.

COCKER RETURNS

The Star Tribune, December 22, 2014, reported:

Cocker returned to the club one more time when it was called First Avenue in 1994, the same year he played the 25th anniversary Woodstock festival. However, he could not remember the 1970 gig nor the venue when Jon Bream interviewed him in 2009 before what would be his last Twin Cities area performance, at Mystic Lake Casino. He said, “The Depot? I’ll have to run it by Chris Stainton [his longtime keyboardist]. It doesn’t ring a bell at all to me.”

John Robert Cocker, known to family, friends, his community and fans around the world as Joe Cocker, passed away on December 22, 2014, after a hard fought battle with small cell lung cancer. He was 70 years old.

OTHER DEPOT SHOWS

April 11, 1970: The Butterfield Blues Band (relatively small crowd)

Underground newspaper Hundred Flowers had an adversarial relationship with the Depot from the start, it seems. In its April 17, 1970 issue, there was this:

the decor: amazingly tasteless

the room: amazingly tiny

the floor: amazingly crowded

the liquor: amazingly costly

the sound: amazingly loud

Cocker & Butterfield: amazing!

April 17-18, 1970: Poco, opened by Big Island and the Hot Half Dozen. (Crockett also remembers opening)

Richie Furay and Jim Messina, formerly of the Buffalo Springfield, made up the nucleus of Poco, and according to reviewer Marshall Fine, put on a fine show. Furay, a country music fan, made Poco into one of the first country-rock bands. They played songs from their first album and from their yet-to-be released second album. Fine had exemplary things to say about each member of the band, and headed his review “Poco show builds to stunning climax.”

Fine also had this to say about the venue itself:

The Depot, in two weeks, has mellowed quite a bit. The crowd is smaller, quieter. The whole atmosphere is calmer than when it opened. Its potential is considerable and it has turned into, generally, a pretty nice place.

Review of Poco by Ron Dachis of the Minnesota Daily:

Poco, a down home country-rock group eased into the Depot Friday night with little fanfare. But before the evening was over they had captured the small, yet receptive audience, with the ever-improving Poco sound.

From the rich sampling of new tunes we heard Friday night, especially in the second set, it appears that Poco has found itself and is well on the way to much greater success.

The bad seems to be taking more shape. It can most aptly be described as a rock band with a country feeling. The ever-present pedal steel guitar and tenor harmony produce the country effect. Hard working drummer George Grantham and bassist Tim Schmit lay down the rocking beat.

The first set started with Richie’s “Come On,” a real rocker that set the tone for the evening. Then Richie did “A Child’s Claim to Fame” for old times sake. After this number the group seemed to relax and “Anyway Bye Bye” a blues cut from their new album went really well.

“Grand Junction,” an instrumental that featured Rusty on pedal and dobro, won the crowd. Jim’s lead guitar intertwined with Rusty’s expert picking.

Next was “Consequently So Long,” “Don’t Let It Pass By,” and a new version of “Nobody’s Fool.” “Don’t Let It Pass By” featured some excellent harmonies. The new version of “Nobody’s Fool” displayed extended instrumental solos by Rusty and Jim. George and Tim were driving away while Jim came off the stage to play amongst the crowd.

They closed the first set with “El Tonto de Nadie, Regresar,” written by the whole group which, when translated means “Whatever happened to the Kinks?”

Poco returned to a somewhat warmer response for set two. This set included three cuts from the first album: “Calico Lady,” “What a Day,” and “Pickin’ Up the Pieces.” The rest of the songs from the new album were played and one thing became evident as the evening progressed. This group has found itself. The players are all doing the same things together with the same ends in mind. This singularity of purpose and tight control constitute Poco’s music.

Poco has decided exactly what they want to be doing and they’re following it through. Their new release will undoubtedly outshine the first. Poco’s development can possibly be attributed to their attitude which is much like the final song they played, “Keep On Believing.” They believe in their style, believe in their music, believe in their people. Poco made a lot of friends this weekend.

Another review, this time from Hundred Flowers: (most typos fixed)

Poco is beautiful and just what I’ve been waiting for. They’re better than ever, too. Randy Miesner, who played bass on Picking Up the Pieces, is now a gas jockey somewhere in Nebraska and Poco has made the perfect replacement. Tim Schmit’s excellent musicianship, smooth tenor voice and little brother smile fits him right into place alongside the others, already renowned for their harmonies of spirit and voice. In fact, his voice is almost indistinguishable from Richie Furay’s, who, along with bass guitar Jim Messina (lead guitar and pedal steel with Poco) was as instrumental as any Steve Stills or Neil Young in creating the Buffalo Springfield sound.

With Neil’s brother Rusty Young on organ and George Granthum on Drums, the Poco sound is just as distinctive and just as special. Their tenor voices (all but Young sing) sound like four Richie Furays or about one octave below the chipmunks and two octaves below Graham Nash.

April 24, 1970: Bangor Flying Circus, opened by Zephyr

May 5-9, 1970: The Ramsey Lewis Trio. Danny’s Reasons opened on May 8. Blues Image opened on May 9.

THEM CHANGES

On May 8 and 9, 1970, Lewis’s concert was recorded for his album “Them Changes,” which was released as Cadet Records LP 844 in October 1970.

Lewis alternated between a grand piano and an electric piano.

The Track List, courtesy of discogs.com:

A1 Them Changes 6:40 A2 Drown In My Own Tears 7:25 A3 Oh Happy Day 7:10 B1 Do Whatever Sets You Free 7:53 B2 Something 5:15 B3 See The End From The Beginning, Look Afar 6:15 B4 The Unsilent Minority 3:45

The Credits, again according to discogs.com:

Steinway Grand Piano, Fender Rhodes Electric Piano: Ramsey Lewis

Electric Fender Guitar: Phil Upchurch

Phil Upchurch Bass [Electric Fender Bass: Cleveland Eaton

Cleveland Eaton Drums: Morris Jennings

Morris Jennings Arranger, Producer, Concept by Ramsey Lewis

Ramsey Lewis Engineer: Reice Hamel

Reice Hamel Mastered by George Piros

George Piros Artwork by Dick Fowler

Dick Fowler Photography by Alan Levine

Alan Levine Supervised by Dick LaPalm

May 17, 1970: Mitch Ryder and Mojo Buford Blues Band. Delaney and Bonnie were originally scheduled to be the main act, opened by Ryder.

When Delaney and Bonnie cancelled, Ryder moved up to be the headliner. Robb Henry remembers, “Will Agar and I were the guitarists with Mojo Buford on that show. I was really impressed by Mitch Ryder’s guitarist Steve Hunter.”

Perhaps because of the substitution, there was a pretty sparse crowd.

May 22-23, 1970: Kinks, opened by Crockett. This was the first appearance by the Kinks in the Twin Cities.

There was a low turnout for the shows, reportedly, as there was a lot going on that weekend. On Friday, May 22, a “Footbridge Festival and Day of Life” took place at the U of M. This event featured David Dellinger, defendant in the Chicago 7 trial; “two mild protests;” rock bands playing on and off all day; and a free concert by Phil Ochs at 8:30 pm. (Minneapolis Star, May 23, 1970) On Saturday, May 23, a “Conference on the Black Panthers: Target of Repression” was held at the Unitarian Church.

Both the Minneapolis Tribune and Minneapolis Star reported on Friday’s show only.

Scott Bartell opened his piece with a review of the Depot itself, after the ticket taker complained that the press was giving the place a bad rap.

On the good side, The Depot has beautiful acoustics and brings in very fine groups. Even the local groups are at least pleasant. The drinks are good and not too expensive and our waitress was friendly and attentive. It is clean and, if you are going to drink, tables are a good idea – I’m glad they added more of them to their original seating arrangements.

But the atmosphere is still very much “money” and it does not make one feel warm and receptive. The freedom of rock was not in the air.

If the Kinks, the featured group, are any indication, the performers may feel the same vibrations. Their set was less than half an hour long, and was very fast and without much emphasis…

Last night they seemed to be smoother and faster than in their recordings, almost as though they were in a bit of a hurry… (Minneapolis Tribune, May 23, 1970)

Reviewer Jim Gillespie, who saw only the first show, voiced disappointment in the performance after waiting for six years for the Kinks to come to the ‘Cities. Again he noted the short first set, and said that the group did no material from its “much-touted rock opera” “Arthur (Or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire).” They opened with “The Last of the Steam-Powered Trains,” then the obligatory medley of their older hits. The high point for Gillespie was a tune sung by Dave Davies called “You’re Looking Fine.”

Dave’s voice is harder and more gutteral than Ray’s and eminently suitable for singing blues. His guitar work on the song was the best best he played, piercing sustained notes and staccato runs, perfectly complementing the chopped-off rhythm pattern laid down by the rest of the band. (Minneapolis Star, May 23, 1970)

And this was the first and last time we hear that there is pizza available!

ALLAN’S COMMITTEE

You may have noticed that the ads for the last six shows (starting with the second show) referred to “Allan’s Committee.” Danny, as Allan’s partner and co-founder of the Depot, was incensed at this and thought about suing, but Allan’s brother-in-law, Ted Deikel, was brought in as a mediator and worked out an agreement that the phrase “Allan’s Committee” would no longer be used. They also agreed that they would vote on all bands to be booked. (DS)

David Roth, a producer for tpt who made a documentary on the 50th Anniversary of the venue in 2020, interviewed Allan, and asked him about the “Allan’s Committee” tag on the ads, and said that Allan didn’t remember that happening.

Whatever the case, after those six shows, the phrase was no longer used.

May 31, 1970: Jethro Tull, opened by Clouds

This show was open to teens under 21 – no alcohol was served. Unfortunately, the air conditioning was not yet installed, and the kids worked up quite a sweat.

Peter Altman of the Star was disappointed at the first show. Although he found the group to be outstanding, he posited that they had not become “super-popular” because they don’t stand out.

What was missing in the first set was individuality and a quality one might call repose or ease. There was little sense that the musicians had anything very personal to say. Wit was not pronounced. Solos lacked variety. There was not a great deal of attention devoted to free musical conversation. Often the musicians seemed to be playing by the book or off in their own private worlds.

Make no mistake. The sounds Tull provided were superior. The quintet has substance, and Anderson has showmanship, too. Tull played about an hour and a half and never dried up. They gave enjoyment. But whether or not they were up for their first set Sunday, they didn’t really switch on the Depot crowd of perhaps 500. There seemed to be thousands of people in line for the second show as I left the old Greyhound terminal. Maybe that inspired a really exciting session.

Ron Dachis, reporting for Hundred Flowers, was there for the second show and reported a block-long line eight people wide stretching along 7th Street, overflowing into the streets, waiting for the first show to end.

Will Shapira’s review for the Insider reported that the Depot was “pretty full” for the first set and “absolutely jammed” for the second. And the quality of the two shows were markedly different as well:

The group somehow got fouled up in its first set and never approached the heights they were to reach later in the evening. There seemed to be two main causes of their difficulty: equipment failure and a proclivity to veer away from their energizing group sound into long, boring, empty ego-trip solos. New keyboard man John Evan, lead guitarist Martin Barre and drummer Clive Bunker were all guilty; even the group’s dynamic leader, Ian Anderson, was off his form in that first set.

The second set was something else, again, however… and it was all the more remarkable because the group played the very same tunes both sets!

. . .

Jethro Tull had not only flown us into a new day and month but, hopefully, The Depot had moved us into a new period of musical experience and excitement.

The opening act was Clouds, a Scottish band touring with Jethro Tull. On this day they were also having equipment problems. Altman deemed the trio “tedious;” Dachis called Clouds “repetitious and dull.”

THE DEPOT AFTER HOURS

An early but apparently short-lived promotion was to target the after-work crowd and tempt them with the beautiful people they might meet at the Depot. Below, a woman eating a flower meets a local Tom Jones … This is the only ad like this I found.

June 6, 1970. Sha Na Na made a special guest appearance (they were scheduled for the next night) and Hundred Flowers reported that the 21 and over crowd was not especially impressed.

June 7, 1970: Sha Na Na did its regularly scheduled show on teen night.

Fifty years later, someone in the audience said: “I remember distinctly Bowser saying, ‘Just one thing to say to all you fucking hippies: Rock and Roll is Here to Stay!'”

Hundred Flowers (Tom Utne?) said the younger crowed “showed the Depot what audiencing was all about.” As usual, HF had a beef, though:

Just to let you folks know, neither Sha-na-na nor anyone else gets anything extra for doing two shows. They just cut ten songs out of their regular set and do it twice. … Hasn’t the time come when Minneapolis is no longer considered a sucker-town by musicians and promoters?

Marshall Fine reported that the “audience alternately laughed at and cheered the group’s antics, were they hair combing or doing the twist.

Sha-Na-Na’s act is slick, possibly even greasy. The group spits, scowls and does its best to ape James Dean. It is more musically talented than it first appears, and also wildly funny. The humor in the group’s act depends on the ability of the audience to laugh at itself. For Sha-Na-Na is satirizing American youth as it was. Few in the crowd were too young not to remember the songs and styles mimicked. The humor could easily be misplaced. If any member had the slightest disdain for what he was doing, Sha-Na-Na’s hole thing would have come off ass too campy and the joke could have disappeared after the first song. Sha-Na-Na takes its role very seriously on stage, however, and it can create the mood that reigned in the days of the four-chord progression.

Adding to the atmosphere last night was the fact that the Depot’s air conditioning was not working. The sweaty, steamy temperature provided the decor that probably existed in the oven-like auditoriums of yesteryear.

This next part of Fine’s review needs clarification:

Danny’s Reasons preceded Sha-Na-Na and put the crowd in the mood for the headliners. Everyone was so fed up with the Reasons that they were all the more ready to hear a good group.

Danny says it must have been someone else: “We never did play with Sha-Na-Na. We only played on seldom occasions on Beer and Wine Night* and on the Gathering at the Depot album. We were never a supporting act for any of the national groups.” Danny has said that his group was not the kind of band that would fit in with the Depot crowd.

Will Shapira submitted this rather snarky review for the Insider: “Sha-Na-Na effectively recreates the popular music that nurtured the silent majority that made up the Silent Generation.” And this: “The years of the ’50s that I devoted to jazz were all the more well-spent upon rehearing “At The Hop” and the other delights of that era.” Guess he didn’t like it.

* Beer and Wine Night was a continuation of a promotion Danny had used at his previous club, Times Square. For $2.50 (men) or $1.50 (girls) (sic), you got a plastic cup at the door, and between 9 and 11 pm, you could have all the beer or Bali Hai or Reva wine you could drink. Danny noted that Beer and Wine night was especially popular with professors from the U of M.

June 14, 1970: Rotary Connection with Minnie Ripperton. Opened by Thundertree.

Reviewer Jim Gillespie, a student at the U, reported that the seven-piece group with two lead singers had an instant rapport with the audience. Apparently the world was not aware of the charms of Minnie Ripperton: “Most of the time the girl sang along in a screamingly high pitched voice, at times creating the effect some groups obtain by using an electronic instrument called the theremin. Her range was amazing and she added much to the total sound of the music.” Songs performed included:

Sunshine of Your Love

Ruby Tuesday

Stormy Monday Blues

Soul Man

Gillespie was impressed with local band Thundertree, remarking that they were better in person than on their record, they played several interesting original songs, and their version of “16 Tons” was “really stunning.”

In the Insider, Will Shapira’s review noted that Ripperton’s voice was “super-shrill” last year at the Labor Temple, but that it had improved its sound and were much more musical, listenable, and professional. Minnie’s two-year-old son Marc impressed Shapira with his drumming and high-fiving skills.

June 20, 1970, Connie’s Insider :

Allan Fingerhut, owner of the Depot, has had some wild scenes running this big, new club in downtown Minneapolis. For instance, it cost him $5,000.00 out of his pocket to pay off the Cocker people on opening night because the club’s booker, no longer the club’s booker, misrepresented the gross potential of The Depot to Cocker’s management. Had Allan known this, he never would have agreed to the contract.

The Depot has NO cover charge during the week or on Saturdays. Only cover is charged on Sundays when a national act is on stage, and then it’s a minimum.

The Depot is making an all-out effort to fill the music gap created when the Labor Temple rock series ran into financial troubles and was forced to close a few weeks back.

On May 31, The Depot launched its “open” concert series by presenting Jethro Tull and Clouds in a pair of concerts. An open concert simply means that people under 21 are admitted and only soft drinks are served to comply with the liquor laws.

The price, by the way, was $5 a head and in this super-aware city which launched a boycott of the Crosby-Stills thing and its $10 top, acceptance meant a lot.

No-alcohol Sundays turned out to be the most popular nights, especially since the Labor Temple closed. These were the nights that nationally-known rock groups were brought in, with tickets selling for as much as $6.

June 21, 1970: Alice Cooper, opened by Suite Charity?



June 28, 1970: B.B. King, opened by Lazy Bill Lucas and Mojo Buford’s Blues Band. Crockett, local/house band, may have also been an opening act.

Jim Gillespie’s review of B.B. King in the Star is worth repeating in full:

The Depot was a blues freak’s paradise Sunday night as it presented three fine acts including the incomparable “crown king of the blues, the man himself, B.B. King.” And B.B. is the King, make no mistake about it.

Lazy Bill Lucas, a transplanted Chicago blues pianist now living in town, opened the concert with a short set of traditional songs in his old-time boogie woogie style.

Mojo Buford’s Blues Band then took over and played a fast-paced set of city blues like “Five Long Years” and “Messin’ With the Kids.” Mojo’s harp playing was fine, as usual, and his new back-up group, while sounding a little ragged in spots, was more than adequate.

Then came B.B.’s back-up band, Sonny Freeman and the Unusuals. The band is made up of two saxophonists, a bassist, drummer, pianist and trumpeter. They opened with a heavily jazz-flavored instrumental which featured solos by everyone in the group. Then the King walked on stage to appreciative applause and yells from the near-capacity audience.

With the first knife-sharp notes wrenched from his guitar, it was clear that we were in the presence of one of the masters. King can wring more emotion out of those six metal strings than practically anybody else in the world and that includes his big-name disciples like Mike Bloomfield and Eric Clapton. It’s all the more impressive when you realize that he invented this style almost single-handedly, more than 20 years ago.

But King’s talent is not limited to the guitar. He is also one of the finest blues singers alive, with a powerful voice and a range that extends all the way from a low-down growl to an exquisite falsetto imitation of a woman telling off her man.

The Depot is not the warmest house in the area but King’s amazing stage presence, fine sense of humor and consummate musical ability transformed it into an intimate, friendly place overflowing with good vibes.

A lot of performers don’t seem at their best in Minneapolis because they can get away with playing a sloppy set and still receive the obligatory standing ovation.

But King is one of the finest showmen in the business and he works hard to make sure everyone has a good time. And they did, too. The next time B.B. comes to town, be sure not to miss him. It’s a are and pleasurable experience.

Memories from Robb Henry:

I was playing guitar with Mojo Buford in 1970 and we were fortunate enough to be the opening act on this show at the Depot. We got to meet B.B. King and hang out a bit in the upstairs dressing room. I was 17 at the time and really impressed by how nice and friendly he was. He was one of the few guitar players that ever sent a shiver down my spine with one note, that vibrato.

When we were hanging out at the Depot, there was a woman in the dressing room and B.B. couldn’t recall her name so he discreetly told his valet to introduce himself to her so he could hear her name again. Dick Garrison and I got a big kick out of that slick little scenario. Etiquette lesson from the King.

Sharron Fingerhut Grohoski remembered that Mr. King was in awe of the scene and humbled at the adolation he received.

Will Agar:

I still remember that evening at the Depot when, half way through his show, [King] took an intermission in the second floor dressing room. There as a knock on the door and a man came in with a suitcase. He opened it and it was full of cash-payment for the evening’s work and insurance that B.B. would finish the second half of his performance!

July 19, 1970: Blodwyn Pig, a British group

Always kvetching about ticket prices, Hundred Flowers announced that “the Depot is trying its damndest to relate to the community Sunday night by down-pricing tickets to $1.50 for Blodwyn Pig. Blodwyn Pig probably has the ugliest album covers in the world but there’s a lot of beauty between those covers. Mick Abrahams is the leader and former lead guitar for Jethro Tull.”

July 26, 1970: Pacific Gas & Electric. This was the group’s fourth visit to the Twin Cities, and much of the personnel had changed.

Will Shapira reviewed the show for the Insider, and reported “two sizzling sets of blues and boogies.” Personnel included:

Charlie Allen, lead singer (original member)

Ken Utterbach, lead guitar

Ron Woods, drums

Frank Petricca, bass

Brent Block, rhythm guitar (original member)

Shapira also reported two “bummers” that night. The first was a female Jesus freak who dragged everybody down with a hysterical harangue just before the second set. The second was a cop who manhanded a kid whose dancing displeased him. Charlie Allen stopped singing, told the cop to let the kid go, Charlie resumed singing, the kid resumed dancing “and everybody got it on again.” (Insider, August 29 – September 12, 1970)

Mike Barich’s photo below shows the enthusiastic (and shirtless) patron in the throes of ecstacy.

According to Hundred Flowers, the group “didn’t play anything familiar – not even their new single, ‘Are You Ready.’ Their format is free and fast with lots of improvising, blues cliches, and revolutionary commentary.”

Maybe the reviewer from Hundred Flowers left early, because according to Dodd Lamberton’s review, “Are You Ready,” the group’s one hit wonder, was the last song in the first show, and the only one that was worthwhile. More from Lamberton, a music student at the U at the time:

PG&E’s music is mostly fast, driving blues, which can be an exciting idiom. Rock musicians rave about the magic quality of the blues that makes it so great to listen to and to play. But if the performers do not control themselves, numbers can stretch into 20-minute studies in boredom, with drawn-out solos by each member of the band… The group was capable of much more than it produced and the crowd knew it.

The opening band was Wagner and Little, a four-piece group from Chicago that had been playing together for only a week.

July 28-29, 1970: Al Jarreau. July 28 opened by Grizzly; July 29 opened by the Sir Raleighs. Grizzly was formerly known as Albert Hall, and the Sir Raleighs became Copperhead. (Keep up!)

July 30, 1970: Sir Raleighs

July 31, 1970: Grizzly – “The Funky Stars of the Pan-Am Rock Festival,” read an ad the day before!

August 2, 1970: Benefit for the Minnesota Eight and North Country Freedom Camp.

Tom Utne in the August 7, 1970, issue of Hundred Flowers said that bands included:

Hundred Flowers Surfjazz Band Orchestra

Jave, with Greg Gilmer and Rocky Melina

Betty Boop

Spider John Koerner

Bamboo (Dave Ray, Donicht, Animal, and Animal’s little brother)

Jam by Bamboo and Friends: Maurice, Tommy Ray, John Beach

The ever-irreverent HF reported that Danny Stevens

digs the scene and suggests more at the Depot, where only biweekly shows are planned for the fall. Allen Fingerhut, however, was quite pissed, does not like us not having cops at the door. Does not like twelve year olds smoking dope in his bar, and does not like our admittedly irresponsible planning. Sincerely Apologies Allen. Let’s do it again, okay?

August 16, 1970: Exuma, opened by Zarathustra (first show) and White Lightning (second show)



The Trib’s Mike Steele attempted to prepare Minneapolis for Exuma, nee Tony McKay, a/k/a the Obeah Man, in an article on August 9, 1970. Steele described him as

a strange mixture combining heavy, primitive rhythms, ecstatic use of drums, a pulsing Caribbean beat, electric instruments, and a rock vocal presentation that soon becomes primitive chants.

Exuma is originally from Cat Island, Bahamas, but he came to Greenwich Village in 1961. His first album was overseen by his friend and producer, Daddy Ya Ya, with backing by the Junk Band. …

Exuma denies a connection with voodoo, but many claim that the connection is there. Exuma says only that he writes his music during seances. His lyrics are heavy on zombies, dead men, ghosts, devils and angels.

It all sounds weird, but otherwise serious men who have spoken to Exuma believe it all. His record is curiously successful. His first live appearance here should be one of the more interesting events of the year.

Reviewer Dodd Lamberton described the band as a group that defies description.

Their music brings together primitive chants, moaning and wailing, and a large variety of rhythms and instruments, including a bass drum, congo drums, whistles, bells and tamborines. It has a refreshing freedom to it, as the members of the group do not seem to have prescribed notes to sing and play – each performance is different. Exuma sings the verses of each song and the rest of the group joins in on the choruses. … In both shows, they had the standing-room-only crowd clapping and dancing to the catchy Caribbean beat. “Obeah Man,” their best-known song, was their best offering.

Will Shapira’s review for the Insider expressed disappointment in the live performance in comparison to Exuma’s first record. He explains,

What goes on in a typical Exuma set is a series of exhortations and incantations to the dark gods of the nether world, shrieked and wailed by the hoarse-voiced Exuma over pulsating Afro-Cuban rhythms. It CAN get pretty exciting at times, but not often enough, I’m afraid. (Insider, August 29 – September 12, 1970)

Both Lamberton and Shapira had great things to say about local band Zarathustra, which was booked through August 21. Lamberton called the band “outstanding,” saying that Dick Hedlund on bass, Rick Dworsky on organ and Bobby Schnitzer on guitar are “unparalleled on the local scene.” Shapira said “There was excellent vocal, lead guitar and mouth harp work throughout the set and outstanding arrangement of a song called “White Bird.” It’s a Beautiful Zarathustra!

Don’t know what happened to Crabby Appleton. Maybe they had to “Go Back” to Los Angeles.

August 30, 1970: Mason Proffit, opened by Willie Murphy. This was a last-minute substitution for Crabby Appleton, which had been advertised just four days beforehand.



Reviewer Dodd Lamberton referred to Mason Proffit as the group that “saved” the Iron Butterfly concert at the Minneapolis Auditorium a few months back. Here at the Depot, “they really turned on the crowds with their smooth, country-western sound.” Unique aspects of the group were that they tuned their instruments one-half step higher than normal, and they used a dobro as a kind of fourth voice.

Lamberton also commented on the opening act:

Willie Murphy and his band made up for their disorganized appearance at the Guthrie two weeks ago with two acceptable sets of mostly original songs. Of these the best was Murphy’s “Eyes of Temptation.” The group’s sound resembled that of the original Electric Flag on the blues tunes.

And as for the Depot’s light show, Lamberton thought it was “as imaginative and as effective as any local show seen recently.”

September 13, 1970: Gathering at the Depot



The Gathering was a day-long event involving 11 bands that resulted in one of the Twin Cities most sought-after LPs. The project was conceived by Danny Stevens and Danny’s Reasons co-founder Frank Marino. (DS) All of the bands were clients of Alpha Productions.

The event was organized by 21-year-old Jeanette Arithson, who was the booking agent for Alpha Productions.

THE BANDS

The participating bands varied between those listed on the poster and those that appeared on the resulting album:

Pepper Fog: On poster and album (“Celebration”)

The Litter: On poster and album (“Ungrateful Peg”)

A note from the Litter’s drummer Tom Murray in 2020:

“Ungrateful Pig” was the title of our original song that The Litter recorded for that album. When it was released, the title was changed without The Litter’s permission to “Ungrateful Peg!!” It was wrong for whoever made that decision to change a copyrighted song title to their title that they wanted for the album!! It still irritates me today for what they did!

But the “Gathering at the Depot” album, with all the bands that were on this record, is a great tribute to Minnesota’s music Royalty! Proud I was a part of it!

Crockett: On album only (“Dear Landlord”)

Thundertree: On album only (“16 Tons”)

Free and Easy: On album only (“It’s for You/Wake up Sunshine”). Original members pictured below were, left to right, Tom Behr,Tony Tuccitto, Pat Dee, Dave Vigoren, Tom Mulkern and (unseen in the back), Bobby Gomez on drums.

White Lightning was on the poster but their performance didn’t make it to the album.

Danny’s Reasons: On poster and album (“With One Eye Closed”)

Grizzly: On poster and album (“Get Out of my Life Woman”)

Deadeye: On album only (“Silly Song”)

Chesterfield Gathering: On album only (“Take Me to the Sunrise”)

System: On album only (“Smiling Eyes”)

Kiwani: On album only (“Better Days”)

Cricket: On poster only

Lemon Pepper: On poster only

Dave Mark Syndicate: On poster only

THE SCENE

Given the number of disk jockeys in attendance from the big rock stations, it was the place to be. That big honkin’ microphone in the photo below suggests that they might have been doing a remote broadcast as well.

THE ALBUM

The concert was recorded on-site by Sound 80. The LP was produced by Frank Marino.

It was originally seen merely as a promotional item, to be sold at the shows of the bands on the record. If a school booked one of the bands, it could sell the records at $1 profit each. Heck, I paid $40 for mine!

Some up-close views of the back:

September 27, 1970: The Illusion, opened by Jarreau and Zarathustra

The Illusion was a psychedelic hard rock band from Long Island They released three full-length albums in the U.S., produced by Jeff Barry. Their only hit here was “Did You See Her Eyes.”

Read about the band Jarreau here.

October 4, 1970: Mason Proffit – “Back Because the Multitudes Requested Them.” Opened by Enoch Smoky.

October 13 – 17, 1970: Ramsey Lewis Trio – two shows nightly

October 23, 19270: Del Counts

October 24, 1970: Danny’s Reasons

October 25, 1970: Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention and the Flying Burrito Brothers, opened by local/house band Crockett.

What a scene! 1,500 people jammed the Depot for each of two shows.

Hundred Flowers reported that the Flying Burrito Brothers opened, minus Gram Parsons but with pedal steel guitarist Sneaky Pete, Barry Lieden, Rick Richards, and Chris Hillman, the only former Byrd in the group by this time.

The Star’s Peter Altman found the country-rock band to be attractive and well-balanced but “without quite enough personality and fire.” They played bluegrass breakdowns, old hits like “Hand Jive,,” Byrds’ favorites like “One Hundred Years from Today,” neo-cowboy ballads and a song about going to Canada to beat the American draft.” They showed “fluency, a variety of styles, and recalled many eras and personalities. There was an inescapable derivativeness about much of the groups music, however, and a consistent failure to come up with the unexpected.”

Zappa and the Mothers included the Turtles (Flo and Eddie), aka Howard Kaylan (the one with the shirt on) and Mark Volman (the fat one with no shirt on). Hundred Flowers was fixated on Volman, the fat one, apparently often mistaken for Larry Mondello, the fat kid on “Leave it to Beaver.” Volman joined the movement to petition KMSP to put “Beaver” back on TV. Dr. John the Night Tripper was also there in some capacity.

Altman was not at all impressed with Zappa, at least the short 35-minute first show that he saw. “There were scattered shafts of outrageous insult and vulgarity (which were few but funny), but not much else. Musically the group was content to get by with bang, and there was almost none of the weird, oddly appealing sentimentality which in contrast with so much grossness is the key element in the usual Mothers’ formula. [Only] very isolated glimpses were all that could be seen of the Mothers’ antic invention and power to touch…”

Scott Bartell’s review reveals that the Mothers did three long pieces, the first two of which were “Call on Any Vegetable” and “Duke.” Bartell said that Zappa told the audience that they were the most laid-back group he’d ever seen, and downtown Minneapolis was the most laid-back place he’d ever seen. Was that a compliment or a dig? Later Barthell reiterated that Zappa said this was the most polite and receptive audience he’d played for.

November 1, 1970: Don Ellis and 23 Friends, opened by Dean Granros, Jazz composer and guitarist from Minnesota.



Reviewer Marshall Fine called this “one of the brassiest, most exciting concerts Minneapolis has seen in a long time.” The gig happened because the group Mountain was supposed to perform on October 31, 1970, at the Minneapolis Auditorium, with Ellis as warmup. Leslie West of Mountain fell ill and couldn’t perform, so that concert was cancelled and Ellis was booked into the Depot.

Fine described the group as a “killer band, specializing in polyrythmic swing.” Ellis, “a grinning madman,” played the trumpet and directed the band “with the savagery of a samurai warrior and with the abandon of a man completely married to his work.” Clarinetist Sam Falzone played something called “The Bulgarian Bulge” in 33-16 time. “I mean, nobody plays that fast,” mused Fine. Ellis used something called the Condor, a device that could change the tone and timbre of his trumpet and hook into a tape loop, which allowed Ellis to play a duet with himself.

Will Shapira reviewed the show for the Insider, and called it “one of the most exciting evenings of music we’ve laid on our heads lately.” For the most part the band performed its new album, “Don Ellis at the Fillmore,” and he “tore the roof off the Depot and completely knocked out the audience.” Compared to the live audience on the LP, Shapira opined that the Depot’s crowd was more visceral and “they let it all hang down.”

Ellis and band made an appearance on Bill Carlson’s show “This Must be the Place,” airing on Channel 4 – apparently on December 25, if I’m reading Will Jones’s column of December 27, 1970, correctly. Jones rued that he had missed the live performance at the Depot, and noted that the band had four drummers.

November 3, 1970: Don Ellis and 23 Friends, opened by Suite Charity

One show at 10 pm. See November 1 above.

November 8, 1970: Small Faces, featuring Rod Stewart. Opened by local group Downchild.

Pat Marciniak of Hundred Flowers reported that the Small Faces “brought with them a musical sound that’s a big overwhelming combination of musical flowers and colors, along with bright globes of sound. Their concert was thoroughly enjoyable, as was proved by the crowded Depot of fans who cheered with screams and whistles of cries for more.”

The show started late because Ian McLagon’s piano was missing, so the first set only lasted 45 minutes. HF again:

To prove how popular the group really is in the Twin Cities, all anyone wouldn’t had to do was to see the long lines of people standing out in the pouring rain waiting to get into the second show. Only a few had umbrellas, but those who didn’t, didn’t want to move, afraid they might lose their place to see the show.

Scott Bartell’s review in the Strib revealed that it was Early Days for the Faces, and the first show was two-thirds full. Rod Stewart was such a new “face” that Bartell had to describe his voice and approach, which he compared to Joe Cocker, but “minus the worst spastic seizures.” Each song seemed different, with excellent contributions from Ron Wood, Ron Laine, Ian McLagon, and Kenney Jones.

Here’s a story about that concert from Mike Guion:

DOWNCHILD

Bartell had a lot to say about Downchild, too, calling them “competent within their tradition (that vast commercial tundra bounded by Blood,Sweat and Tears on the jazzy side and Gary Puckett and the Union Gap on the money side) but they don’t add much to it. I could only listen with half an ear after the first few songs, which gave me time to consider the light show. I considered it pretty dull, though perhaps the groups asked them not to get too flashy. I did like some of the photos of girls, however.”

Jerome Lawrence Beckley of Downchild proudly reports that the band performed all but one original tune. “It was difficult making a living being a concert band doing original material back then.” (The cover tune was Dylan’s “Just Like a Woman.”)



Jerome says that the image above is

part artistic license by my creative friend, David Wood, who created this poster, and Traficante adding our name under the poster design. Our name was fooled with all the time. My favorite was “The Dawn Childs Orchestra.” The name comes from a song by Sonny Boy Williamson, “Mr. Downchild.”

So to be clear, the name of the band was Downchild.

November 15, 1970: Country Joe McDonald (without the Fish). Opened by Wire, a local band featuring Curtiss A (Almstead).

Paul Engel of Hundred Flowers reported that

Country Joe performed admirably, what with the unresponsive audience and the plasticity of the Depot on all sides … It was more like playing in a freakily-painted bus station for the cost of a bus ride from Mpls. to St. Cloud. The performance was lively, expertly delivered, and his material was fresh and poignant.

Dodd Lamberton reviewed the show for the Insider, agreeing that the audience was restrained – but appreciative. The solo acoustic show demonstrated changes for the better, opined Lamberton, citing his “soft, straight-toned voice” and clear annunciation. An interesting observation in the review was that McDonald seemed “pensive and depressed, as if he had just lost a friend” when Lamberton talked to him after the show.

A WORD FROM CURTISS A…

Dodd Lamberton’s review in the Insider included these remarks about Wire, known famously as the first band of local legend Curtiss A:

Wire, the preliminary group, did an amalgamation of oldies and current hard rock songs, from the early Chuck Berry to Savoy Brown. Their vocals were excellent, as they have three men who can both solo and blend well.

Years later, in an interview for KSTP Channel 5 news, Curtiss A had this to say about the show and the venue:

If I’m not mistaken, my first connection to the place was through Danny Stevens. He saw our band and thought we had something. We had played at George’s in the Park (in St. Louis Park) as kind of an audition-type gig, and then we wound up there, including playing with Country Joe McDonald.

I remember the sound system there was really good. I was impressed. Even if it wasn’t what I was expecting from a nightclub, having been a kid and watching TV. It wasn’t Ricky Ricardo and the Copacabana, but it was a great place. And the first couple of times there really did feel like big-time showbiz. We got to essentially debut in the biggest and best place in town, right when it was getting started, and I feel lucky about that.

It’s funny thinking about it now, because back then, I had no idea how relatively an important place it would become in my life. It really gave a focus to all the divergent threads you had in the music scene here, and they’ve always been really supportive of local acts. Some places just have national acts in, and that’s fine if you can sustain yourself that way. But I’ve always felt it’s been more interesting to see all the things we’ve had going on in the Twin Cities too.

At the time of the KSTP interview, Curtiss estimated he’d played the club more than 100 times.

AND THIS:

Don Driggs reported on Facebook:

At that time I was Wire’s manager and I booked that show. Curt was the lead singer. I have vivid memories of going on stage during a song and telling Curt that they were playing too long and if they did not quit, they would not be paid. Curt ran off the stage with me in hot pursuit, chasing him into the back interior parking area. I thought I saw him run into Wire’s bus. I followed but he must have gone out the back door and I lost him. I went back on the stage and searched the crowd – I finally saw him standing in the balcony beside Allen Fingerhut, the owner. Lol. Curt has his own great story about those events. Great Memories..I love that band.

November 17-18, 1970: Wayne Cochran and the CC Riders, opened by Suite Charity

According to a couple of reviews in the December 3, 1970, issue of Hundred Flowers, Cochran’s schtick was to be as racist, sexist, and generally insulting as possible to our fair city. And the audience ate it up. (Sharron Fingerhut didn’t remember it that way at all and had the best time!) Cochran came with a 21 piece band and three backup singers.

November 22, 1970: Sweetwater, opened by Wagner Little

Sweetwater’s signature tune, “Motherless Child,” was sung on record by Nansi Nevins, but she was not at this performance. On December 8, 1969, she was severely injured in a car accident, causing brain damage and permanent damage to one of her vocal cords.

Reviewer Scott Bartell mourned Nansi’s absence, but deemed the sound of the remaining six members as “rich and compelling, their stage presence relaxed and genial. They only played five songs for their first set, perhaps holding off for a larger crowd. Yet even those five numbers demonstrated the intricate workings between the Afro-Cuban rhythm section, the highly flexible keyboard work of Alex Del Zappo, and the jazz stylings of flutist Albert Moore and cellist August Burns.”

Wagner Little was deemed a creditable warmup group, playing rock, blues, and a little folk. Bartell was unsure about where they came from. He was both amused and maybe annoyed at the “circus tricks” of the drummer, who was very adept at drumstick twirling and hitting snare drums mounted above his head, but deemed a better singer than drummer.

November 25, 1970: Mainstreet, presumably a local band

November 29, 1970: Exuma, with Willie Murphy and the Bumblebees

See August 16, 1970, above for a description of Exuma’s act.

December 5, 1970: Ned, one of the house bands.

December 5, 1970, Connie’s Insider : Headline: Depot Revisited: Where is the Club Now? Connie published an extended interview with Allan.

The Depot in downtown Minneapolis has the potential of becoming one of the truly great rock palaces of the country. It’s big and it’s smack in the heart of downtown Minneapolis. However, it certainly is not without its problems… big ones, to the surprise of many of our readers who are regular patrons of the club.

The club opened with a bang for Joe Cocker last April, and has steadily lost money up to perhaps, the beginning of fall. The people were coming to hear some of the best rock acts anywhere, but they weren’t spending money; and they still aren’t setting any fiscal records. What many of you don’t realize is that places like the Depot have a big overhead every week, and they have to sell the only thing they can, booze, to pay the rent and the hundred other expenses with which they are regularly faced.

The club’s owner and founder, Allan Fingerhut, emitted his boyish smile as we sat in his office the other night discussing “business at the Depot.”

“Sure we’re getting people in the joint,” he said, as the phone lines rang and people floated in and out of office, as if they were on a tour of the facilities, “but we’re not taking in the kind of money we should be. The people aren’t buying drinks like they should. I still don’t draw a salary. I can’t afford to and still stay in business. We have a super good manager now; he was a miracle for helping us get the club running properly.” As if on cue, Joe Sandino walked into the office and went to the safe to take out an employee’s check. Joe is the Depot’s new manager, and Joe is a heavyweight…he knows how to run a tight club, taking care of business while making sure Allan’s desire that everyone feel welcome and unhassled is fulfilled.

“Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday are still slower than we would like,” Allan continued, but our Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays are big nights. Monday night the joint is packed for our wine and beer feature. (customers can get all the wine and/or beer they can drink for $2.50) We always feature national acts on Sundays, with the best local bands on all other nights.” The same sweet-looking chick came into the office for the third time, looked ‘round, and walked out. “If these people would spend a few bucks, instead of expecting everything we have to offer for free, we’d be ok.” I nodded in agreement.

The club books its local acts through Marsh, Alpha and Central. According to Allen, the Sir Raleighs and the System do perhaps the most business, or have the biggest following.

“What about your partner, Danny Stevens,” I inquired. “Is the Reasons going to play here?” “Sometimes, but only when we need them. Danny doesn’t come ‘round too often as he doesn’t do too much, though he is by title, president of the Depot.” “You mean you don’t see much of your partner,” I asked. “No,” was his reply.

The man who now directs the club’s finances is Ted Dikel (sic), Allan’s brother-in-law. Ted is a sharp money man who works for Allan’s father, but has been sort of loaned out to help his brother-in-law get his quarter-of-a-million investment running smoothly so that some day soon, they may be able to use black ink on the journals. Allan is still the chief everything who still works many, many hours a week.

It is well known among insiders that Allan and his former manager and talent booker, Abby Rosenthal and Skip Goucher, respectively, had their problems. In fact, their differences may come up in court.

“This club will be enormously successful, it is rated with the Fillmore and other major clubs throughout the country,” Allan said, breaking away from his reflections about his relationship with his former associates. “I believe you,” I replied. It does have all the ingredients to be one of the major showhouses in the country.

“We naturally are limited to what we can afford to pay an act,” Allen said, in reply to my question about ticket prices. We don’t ever want to overcharge our customers, so we can only pay about $2,500 to $3,500 normally. Our very top would be about $5,000, but then we would have to get ‘round $4.50 or $5 at the door, and we don’t like to ask those prices of our customers.

“Some acts, like Jethro Tull, won’t play concerts where tickets are over $4… yet the group doesn’t drop its price; how can I afford to pay them?

“We can buy groups cheaper than other clubs in the country because of routing. They stop here on the way to either coast, or Chicago.

“Zappa, Rod Stewart, Exuma, Mason Proffit and Burrito Brothers were big draws for us. We have the James Gang on December 6 and Savoy Brown on December 13.

“By the way, don’t forget to mention that we have no admission price during the week, only on Sundays and wine night.”

I would imagine that the Depot is superb for recording, as it has fine acoustics. It also has an excellent screen and facilities for a first rate light show. There are dozens of switches and levers on the balcony behind closed doors.

Joe offered his comments on the club’s operations.

“We’re selling more drinks now, and we have a little dressier crowd. The straight freaks don’t drink and they can make a mess of the joint; we can tell the kind of people we had by the way the clean-up goes. If it’s real messy, we know we had a lot of freaks. If we find the cigarettes in the ashtrays instead of ground into the carpet, we know we had a little classier-type of crowd.

“We still get people who feel the club is free. They don’t want to buy drinks or pay a cover, but they think they have the right to come in and listen to the talent we pay a high price for. They don’t understand the economics of running a business. Boy, there’s a big difference in people. Some of our customers are beautiful; others are pigs.

“You can’t run a club with talent and overhead like a free park. They just can’t get that into their heads…some of those people. We’re getting them to come ‘round though, for the most part.”

Steve Baker, a New York promoter who is in town with the Iron Butterfly, walked into the office and greeted Allan and Joe.

“Do you think the guys (Butterfly) will play a set?” asked Allan. “The rumor got out that they would, and I don’t want to disappoint my customers.” “I don’t think so,” Baker replied. “They aren’t all here and they don’t have their equipment etc.” he explained. Allan was determined they would play, and he really tried to get the Butterfly to perform on his stage but it was no use. They all finally agreed they would announce over the p.a. that the band was in the house and welcome them to the Twins and let that suffice, but Allan was visibly disappointed.

The club may establish a food operation yet, as soon as they meet the licensing requirements. Meanwhile, the Depot is here to stay, if Allan and Joe have anything to say about it.

“We have a three year lease with a three year option, and we’re going to be a landmark in this town,” Allan shook his finger at me as I made my way towards the door.

December 6, 1970: James Gang. Although the poster advertises the opener as Haystacks Balboa, the reviews show that the shows were opened by Depot house band Ned.

Shows were scheduled for 8:00 and 10:00, but the second show was cut short by a family emergency, according to the Insider. Might be the show that was so loud that people left. The James Gang at this point was made up of Joe Walsh on guitar, Jim Fox on drums, and Bugsley Peters on bass.

Insider reviewer Phil Thomas opined that “Ned played about four songs too many, and the room was so thick with smoke that it seriously impaired both my vision and breathing.” (Insider, December 26, 1970 – January 9, 1971)

HUNDRED FLOWERS IS NOT HAPPY

An interview with the band published in the December 11, 1970, issue of Hundred Flowers was prefaced with this paragraph:

The James Gang played two shows at the Depot last Sunday night. About 3,000 kids paid $3.50 each to hear them. Another 1,000 or so were turned away. The Depot is probably the worst place in town for a concert. Those who could ignore the hot, very crowded conditions probably enjoyed the James Gang who were at their best during the second set, even though they were too loud for the Depot. They played a lot of their familiar favorites along with a lot of new stuff. On the bill with them was Ned, a very good group playing nightly at the Depot.

Probably because of this and other highly critical reviews of the Depot, the Depot apparently took away Hundred Flowers’ press pass. This ensued:

December 10, 1970: Ned

December 13, 1970: Savoy Brown, opened by local group Grizzly (The December 12 Star had announced Haystacks Balboa and the opening act.)

Well, Grizzly was on time, opening at 7 pm, but there was no sign of Savoy Brown, and poor Allan Fingerhut was wishing cell phones would hurry up and be invented. The band was supposed to go on at 8, according to Allan, and 9 according to the band’s manager. They finally showed up – their plane was late and the contract apparently did say 9 pm – and gave a 40 minute first set, according to reviewer Scott Bartell. “They played only six songs, but each one was long and loaded with music.” The encore was “Shake, Rattle & Roll,” with lead singer Lonesome Dave getting it on with voice and a mean guitar.

As for Grizzly, Bartell reported:

They are a pretty decent band with a good sound and some possibilities. They write some of their own songs (the lyrics are weak but delivered well), and know enough to vary their line-up: a medium-heavy boogy version of “It’s All Over Now,” an ominous “Summer in the City,” then a couple tunes of their own (one countrified and the other a fast rocker) and so forth.

December 20, 1970: Rhinoseros. There was a national band, correctly spelled Rhinoceros, and maybe this was them. You might recognize their instrumental “Apricot Brandy.” They broke up in 1971.

December 26, 1970, Connie’s Insider : “If it’s true, the Depot’s decision not to book Stan Kenton for $1,500 has got to be one of the biggest bummers of this or any year.” (For all he did for local rock ‘n’ roll, Connie was really a Big Band guy at heart.)

December 31, 1970: First New Year’s Eve

1971

January 2, 1970: Pride & Joy, a local band

January 3, 1971: Teegarden and Van Winkel

Okay, this is a bizarre picture, predating the ED commercials by decades. Teegarden and Van Winkel’s one hit was “God, Love and Rock & Roll.” It was their first appearance if the Twin Cities.

January 5, 1971: Grizzly

January 10, 1971: Tiny Tim, opened by the Sorry Muthas

The perks of owning a night club is meeting the performers! Here are Allan and Sharron Fingerhut with Miss Vicki and Tiny Tim.

By all accounts this show was poorly attended, probably because Tiny was also in town for the International Auto Show at the Minneapolis Auditorium all weekend where anyone who really wanted to seem him could probably do so for $2. He also appeared on KSTP-TV’s “Dial 5” program. Tiny didn’t care, telling Star reviewer Scott Bartell that “even if there’s only one person – the tables and chairs are listening.” Tiny was interviewed by local TV columnist Forrest Powers, where it was revealed that Miss Vicki was pregnant and that Mr. Tim had not been asked back to “Laugh-In,” the show that launched his career.

But according to Bartell, it wasn’t necessarily a bad show – in fact, he called it “funny and engrossing.”

He began with “The Waltz of the Bells” and “The Good Ship Lollipop.” Then he brought the band in for a super-long medley beginning with a World War I tune asking war critics, “What kind of American are you?”, switching to “Bad Moon Rising,” and proceeding through a very mixed bag of perhaps a dozen more fragments of songs. … He gives different treatment to all his songs — relative reserve on older tunes; writhing on the floor and throwing his necktie away on “Great Balls of Fire,” singing “Yankee Doodle Dandy ” through a bullhorn to get the old Victrola effect – yet he stamps each song with his own identity and people can’t help laughing and enjoying themselves.

At the same time he commands a strange respect – perhaps for sheer guts, but also because he does some things very well. For instance, he manages a duet with himself, imitating Sonny and Cher on “I’ve Got You Babe.” I guess it is that ambiguity that makes his work so captivating.

Bartell characterized the Sorry Muthas as a “good-time country and jug band.” “Numbers such as ‘Okie From Muskogee’ created the same kind of humorous tension between song and singer as Tiny did. The rest was just good, happy listening.”

January 15, 1971: Danny’s Reasons

January 17, 1971: Al Kooper and Friends, opened by Thundertre



According to reviewer Marshall Fine, Kooper gave an “enjoyably funky show” to a packed house. He started the show with Elton John’s “Border Song,” and while Fine was not so impressed with his voice, he loved his instrumental work. Other songs included James Taylor’s “Country Road” and Nilsson’s “Without Her.”



Fine deemed Thundertre to be “a competent group with a lot of feeling in their music,” but lead singer Jeff (Schleppy) Shapira’s style was too much like Joe Cocker’s and got to be irritating after a while.

Fine also had a beef about the Depot’s light show, which was “one of the dullest since Edison discovered the tungsten filament.” But then, apparently, no one in Minneapolis knew how to put on a decent light show.

January 22, 1971: Danny’s Reasons

January 24, 1971: Mason Proffit, opened by Pepper Fog and Bluebird

Scott Bartell described Mason Proffit as a country-rock band, very much appreciated by the crowd.

They have a way to working with an audience getting them on their feet, clapping and yelling, that brings a whole crowd together. And they are funny, too; commenting on the quiet house, Terry Talbot admonished them not to “try to partake us – we just ain’t that good!”

Bartell did not have a chance to hear Pepper Fog, but he did hear “surprise group” Bluebird, which used to be called Noys. He called them “definitely together,” and said, “They do some very competent though fairly commercial stuff. ‘Keep on Keepin’ On,’ a gentle little song they wrote, is very pleasant and I hope they do just that.

January 31, 1971: Sha Na Na, opened by Chesterfield Gathering

February 2 to 6, 1971: Ramsey Lewis and His Gentle-Men of Jazz

February 19, 1971: Suite Charity, a house band

February 21, 1971: Richie Havens, with Otis Plum, a three-man group from Chicago. Local/house band Crockett also remembers being an opening act.

Freelance reviewer Ann Payson described Havens as “an incredibly warm and charismatic performer” at the two sellout shows. His first set included several songs from his first album, such as “High Flying Bird,” “Just Like a Woman,” “Fire and Rain.” When he “ripped into” the show-stopping “Freedom,” Payson noted, “we saw the other side of Havens, his whole body moving, dancing in a frenzy across the stage and finally breaking two guitar strings as he pounded them in an amazingly sustained and powerful finale.”

March 5 and 6, 1971: Suite Charity

March 7, 1971: Crow, opened by Pepper Fog

Scott Bartell’s review was scathing. On Crow:

“Pretentious and filled with an justified frenzy.”

“They have a very professional sound, but their writing is just not very original, nor are their performing styles.”

“Lead singer Dave Waggoner just seems like a smaller, less aware Joe Cocker, doing more screaming than feeling.”

“Denny Craswell’s drum solo near the end was really simple-minded.” Ouch!

Bartell even gave it to another local favorite, Pepper Fog, saying that “they still play heavy acid-flavored blues a bit too loud. My ears were nearly turned off by the time the featured group came on.”

March 14, 1971: Ike and Tina Turner

Ike and Tina were scheduled for two shows at 7:30 and 10:00. They got there so late that the people who came for the second show were left waiting in the cold and rain for up to 4 1/2 hours and the police had to block off traffic. Fingerhut told reporter Allan Holbert (Minneapolis Tribune, April 11, 1971) that:

Some of the customers, waiting outside in the rain, got fed up and tried to crash the gates. There were scuffles between them and some of the four or five off-duty policemen Fingerhut hires on big nights.

“Like there are seven exits in the place. We weren’t watching them close enough and the kids were coming in by the dozens. Next they found a way to climb up on the marque and come in the window.”

Fingerhut was furious at Ike and Tina’s manager. He called in comedian Ron Douglas to keep the crowd entertained until they got there, and had to do over an hour.

Ike and Tina finally arrived and said they would only do one show, but Fingerhut kept them to their contract and the second show didn’t go on until midnight. Fingerhut told Bob Protzman of the St. Paul Pioneer Press (April 11, 1971) that the antics of Ike and Tina “almost closed us down.”

Reviewer Scott Bartell reported that the band riffed while Ike was trying to change the details of the deal. Finally the Ikettes – “three black bombshells dressed in dayglo orange – burst on to sing and dance ‘Get Back’ and set the stage for Tina.” Most of their songs were covers:

Piece of My Heart

Wanna Take You Higher

Honky Tonk Women

Come Together

Proud Mary

I’ve Been Lovin’ You Too Long

Son of a Preacher Man

River Deep, Mountain High

but Bartell said that “they bring each number alive in a brand new way. They never seem to waste a second, and almost everything they do is worth seeing and hearing. Perhaps the best moments came when Tina was doing little dialogues with Ike on the blues “You Just Won’t Let me Be.” (Minneapolis Tribune, March 15, 1971)

Reviewer Peter Altman noted that the Ike and Tina Review was a well-oiled machine: “so carefully lit and costumed, musical arrangements (for all their sock) so meticulous, choreography so closely ordered and pace so shrewdly varied that even when the Turner Review is at its most dynamic one always appreciates that it is a smartly packaged entertainment based on strict adherence to a proven formula.” He noted that at some shows Tina “becomes a dervish who moves across the stage without touching the ground or the Ikettes abandon unison for ecstasy, and a few free choruses are allowed before Ike reasserts order. Such things did not happen this time” – or at least at the first show. (Minneapolis Star, March 15, 1971)

The Minneapolis Tribune dedicated a page in its picture magazine to the fashions worn at the Ike and Tina show. “Bell bottoms and jeans were the favorite garb with the audience … There were a few hot pants and some peasant and Indian looks in the crowd … The casually dressed crowd lined the balcony to watch the show.”

March 19 and 20, 1971: Sir Raleighs

March 21, 1971: Eric Burdon and War, with plans to record for their next album live.

Jim Klobuchar’s column, Minneapolis Star, March 26, 1971 :

Come closer, visitors, so that I may share with you the latest and possibly most melancholy adventures of The Depot since it switched a couple of years ago from Mankato, St. Peter and LeCenter to the Pacific Gas and Electric. The latter is a musical organization of a type that The Depot now gives asylum against the ravages of the Golden Strings culture in Minneapolis.

March 27, 1971: Sir Raleighs

March 28, 1971: B.B. King, two shows



April 4, 1971: Procol Harum, opened by Curved Air. Two shows, in the “City’s center of rock music.” (Star, April 1, 1971)

Robert M reports, “

April 9, 1971: Copperhead

April 11, 1971, James Gang (Jimmy Fox, Dale Peters, and Joe Walsh).

Peter Altman of the Star called the group’s sound an “instant anachronism.” While a year ago it would have been called “good but unremarkable,” “a sort of lower-case version of Led Zeppelin,” by 1971 “The individual is in; the group is out.”

It was easy to see that the Gang members were good players. But their music wasn’t saying anything about our world, or theirs. It had no lyricism, little sensitivity. It was aggressive, not reflective. And so it did not communicate directly. …

And the youthful audience, while friendly enough, never really cared; it was not involved; it will not remember vividly.

On April 11, 1971, Allan Holbert of the Minneapolis Tribune checked in at the Depot after a year of operation. He described the place:

Some nights it’s been a madhouse, with the music – after it finally started – so loud it was painful, with cops wrestling down rowdy rock buffs at the door, with bartenders running out of booze.

Other nights the loudest noise has been the moans of the management people as they added up the lack of receipts from paid attendance.

But the significant thing is that after one whole year, The Depot, that Fillmore Midwest rock palace… is still open.

Holbert also noted that April 1970 was not a great time to launch a new night spot. “The economy had started turning sour. People were being laid off. The ones who still had jobs were forced to cut back on their entertainment spending.”

Holbert attributed the success of the club to the hard work of Fingerhut, who “founded and owns most of the action” and was Chairman of the Board. Fingerhut worked seven days a week at the club. In hindsight, Fingerhut said that booking “loud, heavy groups” like Joe Cocker was a mistake, and “if I were to do it over I would start by booking top-40 bands.”

Crowd control was a lesson learned as well, as customers found ways to get into the club’s seven entrances and even in the windows without paying.

April 17, 1971: Copperhead

April 18, 1971: Canned Heat and John Lee Hooker, two shows





Reviewer Jim Gillespie’s headline gives away his impression: “Too Much Canned Heat.” John Lee Hooker opened the show with a short set on electric guitar, with songs such as “It Serves Me Right to Suffer” and a short version of “Boogie Chillun.” Gillespie had the impression that Hooker’s set was cut short to let Canned Heat take the stage. By this time, co-founding member Alan Wilson had died, and Gillespie found the music to have a sameness that became boring. Hooker came back to join the group for the last number, “On the Road Again,” but did not stay, and Canned Heat closed the show.

Reviewer Michael Anthony agreed that Hooker’s set was too short (25 minutes at the most), saying “Hooker was a little subdued for an audience that came to stomp and shout.” He also mourned the passing of the group’s original lead singer, Alan Wilson.

The caption to the sketch above read:

The Depot, under the direction of Allan Fingerhut, has pulled off another booking coup, scheduling a combined appearance tonight tonight by Delta blues singer John Lee Hooker and Canned Heat, one of the best of the young, white blues bands. Their new album, “Hooker ‘n Heat,” shows that Canned Heat, as are a lot of other white young blues groups, is moving closer to the “source” with the help of veterans like Hooker.

April 23, 1971: Copperhead

April 24, 1971: Light and Foxglove

April 25, 1971: Gypsy



Gypsy was a local group that grew out of the hugely popular ’60s band the Underbeats to become nationally famous. Read the whole story of Gypsy at Minniepaulmusic.com

April 30, 1971: Copperhead

May 1, 1971: Bluebird

May 2, 1971: Al Kooper, opened by Fanny, 4 member, all-girl rock band.

May 7, 1971: Dead Eye

May 8, 1971: Copperhead

May 9, 1971: Iggy and the Stooges, opened by the Litter. Little Richard was originally scheduled, but his tour was cancelled.

Jeff G says Iggy

Reviewer Michael Anthony cited “interminable setting-up problems and much hand-clapping from the audience,” but finally out came Iggy: “topless, frosted hair, lips painted, sequined, greased body.” Here’s more of Michael’s review:

Iggy’s act makes Mick Jagger look like Rudy Vallee. He minces, prances, crawls on the floor, and turns his long pouting lips to the audience. He works mainly in the audience, falling, shoving, jumping on the back bar and up onto the balcony and occasionally singing. Looking from the balcony, with Iggy below, the people mobbed around him, clapping, it looked like Friday night in Haiti. Forty-five minutes after they began, the other Stooges, mightily bored, walked off the stage and Iggy got up off the floor, climbed on stage and walked off.

May 16, 1971: Redbone

NO COPS

As of May 17, 1971, Minneapolis Police officers were prohibited from working off-duty at the Depot, citing a number of arrests at the venue. Although Gordon Johnson, Deputy Chief of the Patrol Division, did not keep statistics on the number of arrests, he ballparked it at about once a day and claimed that judges and the city’s attorney’s office had made complaints. At the time, Fingerhut employed about 20 officers to check IDs. Deputy Chief Johnson said the order was not made because of the “character” of the arrests, but because of the number. (Minneapolis Tribune, May 13, 1971)

AMATEUR NIGHT

Toward the end of the Depot’s run, Fingerhut was trying different ideas to attract patrons. One was “Not-So-Original Amateur Night,” which made its debut on May 19, 1971. Planned to be an every-Wednesday night event, the contest would be award prizes according to audience response. Rock groups were not eligible, but apparently hula dancers were.

May 21, 1971: Bluebird

May 22, 1971: New Policy! Copperhead

May 23, 1971: Johnny Winter, J. Geils Band

Michael Anthony’s review noted that at least 1,500 fans jammed the Depot for the first set, with what seemed like another 1,500 waiting outside in the rain for the second. He called the first set mundane, with no real surprises, but only when comparing it to Winter’s past performances. Anthony noted that former McCoy’s guitar player Rick Derringer had joined Winter the previous year, and that while his guitar playing delivered “layer upon layer of 32nd note riff lines in unison and alteration, his singing left something to be desired.

Marshall Fine noted that this was Winter’s fifth appearance in the Twin Cities, but that the group was getting “too obvious.”

Winter used to project a stage image of a white ghost, dancing some secret ballet with his guitar. There were high points and low points, climaxes and crescendos. He built his songs and then methodically, carefully took them apart.

His present band simply overpowers its audience. There are no real ups and downs in the songs because they all start on far too high an energy level. It’s simply power music, the genre that Grand Funk Railroad has made popular. The difference is that Johnny Winter knows what he is doing and consequently never becomes repetitious or dull.

The J. Geils Band was a relatively unknown group from Boston, which Fine found musically more interesting than Winter, akin to the Allman Brothers Band in their “hard-drinking approach to blues and the same smoothness and fluidity in their instrumental work.” Fine awarded kudos to the group’s harmonica player, Magic Dick, who “plays the most delicious harp since Paul Butterfield.”

The ad below appeared in the Strib on June 4, 1971. Wine and beer night had been extended to Thursdays, Nostalgia and Amateur Nights had been added, and cover charges were gone on Friday and Saturday nights. (The big concerts were on Sunday nights.)

June 6, 1971: Edgar Winter and his band White Trash

Reviewer Marshall Fine enjoyed Johnny Winter’s brother, saying he was every bit as good, if not better, than his older, more famous sibling. “They have the precision of BS&T, the toe-tapping rhythms of Chicago, the harmonies of Three Dog Night, plus one other distinguishing ingredient: guts.” The set’s showpiece was a long version of “Tobacco Road.” With Edgar’s “wildly soaring voice, the song lost its oldness, as he gave it new dimensions and feelings.” Fine would have preferred that Winter do more of the singing, but that was left mostly up to Jerry la Croix, who Fine accused of looking, sounding, over-emotionalizing, and hamming shamelessly like David Clayton-Thomas. The first part was not necessarily his fault.

Robert M reported that this show (

FINANCIAL CRISIS

In Will Jones’s column of June 10, 1971, it was revealed that the low attendance at the Edgar Winter show threw the club into a financial panic. Said Allan:

We didn’t take in more than two-thirds of what we needed to pay the group. We were emptying out our safe, and even going into the cash registers to get change that we would need to open up on Monday, in order to pay them. Then something happened that you’re probably not prepared to believe. You know about rock groups and their reputations, and their wanting all the money before they go on and all that. Edgar Winter’s manager came to me and said he knew the club was in trouble, and he gave us back some of the money. He said he liked the club.. He gave us enough so that we could open up Monday. If you know this business, and the kind of people who usually run the rock bands, you know how unusual that is.

Jones reported that Allan had put the last of his personal fortune into the club and told his staff of about 50 people that he couldn’t meet the payroll. Jones thought that was a charitable move, since Allan had warned them in advance instead of stiffing them. Then the staff voted to work for free for a week in an attempt to keep the club open. At that point they were all hoping that the upcoming shows would come off. (Minneapolis Tribune, June 10, 1971)

On June 11, 1971, Allan, identified as the “majority owner of the business,” announced that Monday, June 14, 1971, would be the last night at the Depot. “The rock and pop music house will close its doors, and operations will be suspended indefinitely for financial reasons.” He said that the Friday before there were only 150 customers. He was stuck with $35,000 in bills and was contemplating bankruptcy. But he still had hopes of reopening the big hall as a concert venue. (Minneapolis Star, June 12, 1971)

CANCELLED FINAL SHOWS

June 13, 1971: Allman Brothers show was cancelled, even as it was advertised in the paper that day. The band got wind of the club’s financial trouble and demanded full advance payment before they even left New York. Fingerhut scraped it together, but when he called the next day they said that they had already rebooked the date.

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