Diane caught up with Tina Schlieske before her return to First Avenue’s mainstage with her band, The B-Sides, for the legendary establishment’s 50th Anniversary celebration. Tina and the B-Sides will open for Golden Smog on Saturday, April 2. It’s a familiar hotspot for the veteran rockers, who have their name imprinted on the venue’s wall.

While the memories remain foggy from past sold-out First Ave shows, Schlieske’s excitement to perform is all the same. She also opens up about some of her frustrations in the music industry, including the double standards for women.

Diane: You have the 50th anniversary of First Avenue show coming up alongside Golden Smog. What do you have in store for that?  

Yeah, I'm a little nervous. But I'm also extremely excited, because it's been a long time, as we all know. And this show got postponed – it was supposed to happen two years ago and I'm so glad that they rescheduled. I think it's a pretty awesome bill, myself. But yeah, we're excited. Anytime that I can get together with the B-Sides is like putting on an old favorite pair of boots. And I love, always, playing First Ave. 

You have live recordings from sold-out shows at First Avenue. What memories do you have?

Some of them are like a complete blur. But it's just funny that it just doesn't end – that no matter how many times I've played First Ave, it still is such a big deal. Because, when I was younger, just going to shows there and just being in awe of like, "One day, if I can just get to that stage..." So, as an artist, it's so cool to be able to still have that same feeling that you did when you were younger. I think it is so important to hold on to because the moment that it doesn't become special – it becomes just another show , "OK, I'm done. I'm gonna tap out. It's all good." But the fact that it still means something is great. 

You live in two different places, basically. West Coast and here. And you've been doing that for a while. Tell me about that grind. 

Yeah, it can be very tiring. But growing up in Minnesota, I don't think I'd ever thought, "Oh, yeah, you're going to be a Cali girl." And I still don't consider myself a Cali girl. But I do love California. We just did this little impromptu trip down to Palm Springs to hang out in the desert down there. And it's so crazy, just what it looks like – the plants in the desert. It's just so cool. And then you drive up here and Santa Barbara is a little bit more of a surfer kind of seaside town. And then you transport yourself, then you go to Minnesota, which is old-school, what I know, where I'm from. I love that – the whole weird, opposites and just different environments, different weather, different people, different everything. So, it can be a grind, but it also keeps you on your toes.  

The first time I really saw you perform was at the Do Re #MeToo concert at the Cedar Cultural Center and you sang "It's a Man's World" by James Brown. You totally stole the show. Everyone was screaming, levitating out of their seats, including me. It was like this big, bold F-U to the patriarchy. Tell me a little bit about your activist side. 

I love Lizz Winstead, who does that show. And when she said, we're doing the most anti-feminist songs written by men and she said, "Do you want to do this song?" And I'm like, "Yeah, OK. I know it." And I think, with the B-Sides, in the ‘80s, we might have covered it. I'm just looking at these lyrics, and I'm like, "Do you mind if I just rewrite the last verse?" And everybody was kind of busy, like, "Yeah, go ahead, go for it." And I just started Googling, because I think I just read something about how it was actually a woman that invented how computers speak to each other. So I decided I'm just going to Google a bunch of stuff that women have invented and just put that in the end. And it's just weird that it worked. And it kind of freaked me out, I have to say.  

I did that song again with The New Standards in the holiday show because they wanted me to do that. "I'm like, really?" I mean, I get it, I understand; but I was even really shocked. I just thought it was kind of funny, but people really got inspired by it or moved by it. And then I remember we did it for The New Standards matinee show, so there was a lot of little kids. And to look at some of these little girls when you're singing that song – it's like they get it. It was kind of cool.  

And you have a side project, Genital Panic, more of a punk rock band. And I remember seeing that at the Hook and Ladder Theater, and also just absolutely loving it. What made you want to really dive into this super feminist, punk-rock style? 

Well, it kind of started in multiple ways. I was going to be 52 or 53, or something like that. And I was feeling the menopause. And then also just feeling the frustration of like, there's a lot of women that are great songwriters, performers, but you don't really hear about them. If they do pop up, they've got a ton of work done. There's just this thing in the music business that I look at the guys that just get better, and they never get held to the standards of, "Oh, look at what they look like now." I was thinking, “How do I express this anger?” I still want to be relevant, but I'm not relevant in the sense of what women were back in the day when they were younger. I want to sing and have the anger of a woman my age right now, and the frustration that I feel going through menopause and feeling invisible. And then you look around and you got Trump as president and #MeToo is happening. And it felt just like I was going to explode.   

I went to this museum in New York, and I saw – her name was Valie Export. She did this thing called Genital Panic: Action Pants in the late '60s, early '70s. And she cut out the crotch of her pants and went into porn theaters in New York, and was basically telling these guys "Oh, so you think that's real? This is real. This is me, get used to it." And I thought, “wow,” and that just became the first song that I wrote, "Action Pants." Then from there, it was just the anger of [the Trump administration]. 

It felt great, because it reminded me of when I was really young, and just frustrated in the music business and trying to write and do things. I felt that glass ceiling, because when the B-Sides were coming up, there was The Replacements and Soul Asylum and all these very wonderful male rock acts; and I just felt like I just wanted to be like a rock and roller. So there's a lot of anger there, frustration. And then it just kind of reared its head again when I was hitting menopause and just wanting to be relevant and saying that I've got a voice too, and just getting pissed off.  

It was so awesome to have Genital Panic to feel like, "Oh, yeah, this is what I remember: loud amps, screaming over the volume, and just like, who cares?" That’s more my roots from when I started writing music, way back when in the basement. 

I immediately connected with it when I saw it. I was just like, "Oh, I needed this." Even though I'm not going through menopause, I could just feel the compassion you had for the music and the message. I remember feeling in awe at the show. And the band – oh, so good. You find some great musicians to surround yourself with.  

Oh, I know. Yeah, thank you. It was awesome. I love playing with those women. They're awesome.  

You sing Sinatra, Nina Simone, James Brown, The Beatles – the list goes on. Is there some sort of internal switch you have to make when you're going through these different types of artists, or does it come naturally? 

I don't feel like it comes naturally. But what I loved about doing the jazz stuff – for me Genital Panic, like I said, that's where I started from. So, I can go into that anytime, and that's all good. The jazz stuff was very, very scary. But I loved it at the same time. As an artist, you learn your craft, and you get really good at your craft. And all of a sudden, you're like, now what? And as an artist, it is your job, even though your fans or people that love what you do might get upset with you, you have to just keep growing. The reason why they fell in love with you is because you worked so hard to get to that place. And if you lose some people because you keep growing, well that's on them, not you; because it's not your job as an artist to stay the same and stagnant. So, for me, I was feeling that, and I wanted to express more through my voice.  

I was feeling this connection because my grandmother sang in the Russian opera, and I really wanted to connect to her through that. And even though it's not opera, I feel like some of those older Sinatra, Nina Simone, Billie Holiday songs are almost baby operas in an English speaking way, because they're just little scenes of heartache and desire, and the melody, it's dramatic. And so, I had not been that scared when we first started doing that show – oh my gosh, my nerves and everything. I was thinking, “Why am I doing this? Why do I put myself through this?” But then I just absolutely loved it. And it is such a different thing, putting on the suit and singing those songs. It makes me a little sad, because now I'm getting a little bit too comfortable doing it, because I liked it when I was scared, you know? It just felt better. But it totally reminded me of when I was 12, when you learn that first chord, and you're like, "Oh! look at me!" I felt the same way when I sang the song. And I'd look back at the guys, and say "I just sang that!" And they're like, "Yeah, so." I was just like, "Man! This is incredible."  

Reinvention is an important thing. I feel like that maybe contributes to the longevity that you have as an artist?   

Yeah, maybe. I think every artist feels this way. Are they doing what they're supposed to be doing? Is their work still honest and true? Are you still writing from a good place? Or are you trying to be something that you're not because you think people want this?  

I read this book a few years ago, where it was about this young guy whose parents were way into classical music and he became a classical musician, but he loved Dylan. He loved Bjork. He loved The Jayhawks. And he wanted to sort of unlock the mysteries of like, how is Bach that much different from Bjork? And he realized that, really, there isn't any difference. It's music. It's creating music. He said that the one thing that was different was, all those old composers, they hate their first works or their biggest. It was all about their older work that meant something to them.  And I just started shifting my thinking instead of looking back and going, "Oh, I can't write songs like that anymore.” What you're trying to do is just build a good body of work that shows your progression and how much you've expanded and learned and brought to your craft, and how you accomplish that.  

From one lesbian to another: You were out in the world long before gay marriage was legal. And, today, being out as queer, especially in the music industry, is pretty normal and easier. But I got to imagine back in the day, it was different. Can you tell me a bit about that experience?  

If I really stopped to think of back then, the world – it was scary. I mean, especially being in the Midwest. You're going to some of those truck stops and it's just like, “Oh man. I just don't want any trouble. Don't even think about it because I swear to God, I may be small, but I will go down and you're going to at least lose something. Even if you kill me, I'm going to take your arm or something." So, that fear never really leaves you because there'll be certain situations you'll be in and those hairs stand – "Oh, yeah, this is not a safe place for me." But that was happening all the time.  

And I remember that Melissa Etheridge came out. I don't know who came out first. Now it's such a blur, but I think it was either K.D. (Lang); and when I think back, it's like, “Hello, do you really need to? It's kind of obvious.” (Laughs) I actually officially came out from a paper in Fargo. Nobody would ever ask, "Are you gay?" I know that people basically knew it. But nobody asked. And I was always waiting for somebody to actually come out and say it. At that time, it was like, you didn't want to be gay, because there was this thing of still living in the closet or not being your true self. And I just felt like I had this thing – it's like, “I know you won't hate me. And the fact that you may not like everything that I like or represent, but I know deep down, we're human beings, that as soon as you even just have a conversation with me, it's going to be so hard for you to not like me. And so therefore, why are you against gay people?” So, my approach is always like, I'm not going to come in your face – like, “Guess what? I'm loud and proud and gay!” I think that people may have gotten confused that I wasn’t full-on Rainbow towel. I still am very proud of who I am and so fortunate that I get to live my truth every day.  

Tina and the B-Sides perform at First Avenue on Saturday, April 2. The show also features Golden Smog and Kiss the Tiger, and is part of First Avenue’s rescheduled 50th Anniversary celebration. More info here.