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The Dodos

Nov 11, 2018

Last night, I had the pleasure of seeing The Dodos at the 7th Street Entry with Palehound and Juniper Douglas. My love and appreciation for each of these bands only grew throughout the show.

Local 5-piece gang Juniper Douglas put on a show that was part performative, and devolved into rage alternating with introspective, keys-forward grooves. The frontwoman came out ready to play her heart out on the tambourine, which she later dropped to immerse the room in vocative prose well suited to the evocative ASL interpretation happening at the side of the stage. Together we complained about winter, oncoming collective seasonal affective disorder, and an imaginary “friend” Randy, whom Juniper Douglas presents to us as the perpetrator of all daily annoyances.


Palehound played a stripped-down set with just a guitar and bass. Their drummer could not join them on this tour, but that didn’t keep them Ellen and Lars from rocking - and led to them being even more raw and emotional than ever. They previewed a song from their upcoming album (I get the impression that it’s going to be a doozie!) Tears were flowing in the audience during “Dry Food,” but then to repair the emotional damage they had wrought, they told us in the audience a story about an adorable senior woman with purple pants who gave them a really good hug at their last stop in Green Bay. Palehound nourished my tired scholarly heart, and provided some sickly precise guitar and bass licks along the way. They’ll be back in Minneapolis in February, when they’ll be touring with Cherry Glazerr.


Ramping up from the reparative psychedelic folk rock of Palehound, The Dodos took the stage, and brought us an afterparty of sorts. They got loud, brought drums, and are technically awesome musicians, creating a very full sound for just two guys. Sheepish headbanging in the crowd became more and more unfettered. The guitarist switched between his electric and acoustic to make a larger variety of sounds to play with on stage with a bank of loop pedals and the group’s skilled musicianship. The band was clearly having a good time, the audience was boppin’, and we continued bopping as we went our separate ways into Minneapolis’ crisp and snowy November night.


Abigail Rauls

Photos by Darby Ottoson