It’s crazy – you write a little chapter of history, and then one day you discover something in a box that changes everything. In this case, a tape containing two live performances by an early version of Dancing In The Dark, which suggested that this band was really on to something.

I have no photos of the early line-up, and the only notes provided on the tape are song titles and a couples of dates, from shows we played at the Seventh Street Entry. I don’t remember a lot of the details of how it got started, but I’d be willing to bet it was Win’s idea. I was game as long as I could play whatever I wanted on guitar – even if it exceeded my ability at the time. All I knew was that I didn’t want to play conventional rock guitar cliches, and these tapes suggest I was successful in that respect.

I think the set from August 28th was our first show ever. We had a few basic musical themes and partially written songs, but most of what we did was improvised on stage that night. That might be the most apparent during tracks 4 and 5. Win’s brother Cris was on loan that night from his “hardcore” band Todlachen (which also featured a 16-year old pre-AmRep Tom Hazelmyer). Things That Fall Down were the headlining act on this night – the “Ha!” at the end of track 4 is their bass player, Garrison White. It was great to hear Cubby playing conga on this recording. He was an old pal of Win’s, and we shared a love of the music of Roland Kirk. He kept all of his Kirk LPs in a milk crate, and declared that if his apartment ever caught on fire and he could only grab one thing, it would be that crate of Kirk albums. Cubby told me that Kirk claimed “jazz” was a white man’s term for the music he played. I don’t think Cubby knew what to make of the music Win and I played, but he definitely added a lot of energy to that set.

I have even less information about the set from September 18th, although I suspect that Eric was still on bass, and Jim Meyer may have been on drums at this point. My guitar histrionics had toned down a bit, and I was attempting more “structured” parts, although they still weren’t very conventional. “Modern Cowboy” and “Friends” were both updated versions of songs I originally wrote for The Sacred Version, and “Music To Spy By” was a song Win co-wrote with two of my old bandmates from that group, under the nom de plume The Burkes (although allegedly, that band never actually existed).

This established a new strategy for the band, as Win and I began combining our individual songs together. The result was slightly longer songs with interesting chord pattern changes, and occasional recurring themes. It worked pretty well, although it really wasn’t that thought out at the time – it was just something we did to keep the groove of the songs moving along. “Stay Ahead” started out as a guitar theme I had been recycling for a while, in my attempt to play something in the same vein as The Contortions. Win provided the original lyrics and the name of the song, and my initial lyrics were re-worked from another old song performed in The Sacred Version, called “Cut It Out”. Those lyrics were eventually combined with the one and only rap lyric I ever wrote, which I had intended to use as an official “theme” for the band, while commenting on the local music scene at that time. The more or less “definitive” version was featured on the cassette release from the subsequent version of Dancing In The Dark – version 2.0.

Listening to this energetic little combo really helps put things in perspective. Old friends were around, and being in a band was a fun way to burn off energy, in the midst of the politically-charged climate of Reaganomics. Playing in this band helped me get over a divorce, and it brought pals together that didn’t even understand what we were doing. Who knows what it will do to you!

The three of us worked together at a local eatery, which was a hotbed of activity in the Minneapolis music scene – back in those days, the real Minneapolis music scene could be found in the kitchens of just about any restaurant you cared to name. Wendell “Win” Patrick was as much a catalyst for this band as I was. All I did was write words and scratch my way out of whatever riffs I had gotten myself trapped in. The name of the group came from the title of an instrumental from my previous combo, The Hytones. It should be noted of course that this was is no way related to the Kim Carnes song of the same name, which wasn’t released until 1983. The same goes for Bruce Springsteen, who didn’t release his song of that title until 1984. The irony in that last tidbit of information was that Win was just about the biggest Springsteen fan you could hope to find. Maybe “The Boss” was giving something back.

I’ll blame this one on my old pal Nick Leonard – the same fellow who unwittingly nudged The Sacred Version into existence, by way of a few innocent introductions. Well, in this case, it happened again – twice. Enter one Irving Safari (nee Dan Krislov) on violin; whose “regular” politico rock’n roll combo – The People’s Joy Boy Squad – quickly became a local favorite of mine. Micki Ellis was another friend of Nick’s, and he held down the bottom end with his rock-steady rhythmic acoustic beat.

We rehearsed in the tiny one-bedroom apartment I shared with my future bandmate Melne, and on occasion, it seems a few of the adjacent neighbors weren’t exactly delighted by our sound. But we did play out once or twice, and I may actually still have a cassette of our gig at Smik Smak Theatre, sharing a bill with the 2-person Borrowed Time, and The People’s Joy Boy Squad – possibly even a bill with 2i. It’s great if all your friends are in bands with each other, yes?

Okay, I’ll admit to being a bit fuzzy on this one, as it was a very short-lived line-up, and we never actually played out.

If memory serves, the impetus for assembling this bunch may have been some sort of benefit gig, which it doesn’t seem that we actually attended. Or, maybe not. Quite possibly, we just all thought we should be in a band together. Maybe I’ll dig up something will bring it all back, but I’ve got at least one recorded session, albeit somewhat lo-fi as it were.

Since Dan and Micki were on board for this, I’m thinking that they kind of started it. Also, we rehearsed in the basement of a house in the well-to-do Kenwood neighborhood, where Dan’s friend Mark lived. I do recall that as an aside, Mark introduced me to the music of The Pop Group, for which I am eternally grateful. Kimuel, of course, had been a part of The Hytones, with both Micki and myself, and Melne and I had both been in Borrowed Time. It seems that Win was on board for a minute, but again, I’m a bit fuzzy as to the details. In other words, a super-group of sorts (in my own mind, anyway), even if we barely existed.