Interview: Peter Jesperson relives Minnesota's early punk/alternative scene
by Diane
November 21, 2023
Peter Jesperson not only understands the power of alternative music and its lasting legacy — his entire life has been a product of it.
Jesperson’s new book Euphoric Recall: A Half Century as a Music Fan, Producer, DJ, Record Executive, and Tastemaker details his life in nearly every music-adjacent role imaginable. His detailed memories and stories uphold a place in music history books — especially as the person who discovered and managed the legendary Minnesota punk band The Replacements. From booze-filled disaster excursions to unforgettable, magical performances, the memoir’s appeal is in its ability to transport readers back to Jesperson’s front-row viewpoint.
I talked with Jesperson about his dedicated work in the Minnesota music industry, including with many of the artists who inspired his influential record label, Twin/Tone.
Read more: Review: Peter Jesperson's colorful new memoir shares music business thrills and spills
Reliving the memories
Peter Jesperson: I'm kind of a one-track guy, maybe two-track guy. I read and I listen to music. I mean, that's kind of it. But the music thing is really how – just my whole life it's been my focus. And so I kind of just date everything in my life, according to when this record came out, or when we did this tour, or when Oar Folk had this artist in the store for an autograph session, or whatever. So I think that stuff lodged itself in my head, and like everybody, you know, you get older and your memory gets spotty. And so there's plenty I don't remember. But there's some things I just remember so vividly. And I suppose, I don't think that's odd. I think everybody has that. And certainly, I think one of the things that my wife, Jennifer, said during the course of writing the book that she got such a big bang out of was reconnecting with people I hadn't talked to for probably 40 years or more. And so those people helped fill in the blank spots that I had, and sometimes just a conversation where neither of us really remembered anything, clearly, talking about it triggers memories. But yeah, clearly, I have lots of vivid memories. It's kind of funny because I didn't take good care of myself for a number of years. But anyway, yeah, I'm glad that that's something that's noticeable when you read it.
Relationship with Paul Westerberg and The Replacements
In terms of The Replacement specifically, I think, you know, I had a really close relationship with Paul Westerberg. It was kind of like there was the band, and there was the five of us, but then there was also the two of us. And we spent a lot of time together just listening to records and listening to each other's thoughts, and drinking, and smoking cigarettes. So I feel like maybe one of the most interesting parts of the story was early on, probably within the first year that I met him, the rockers were just pouring out of him. And he didn't really write slow songs or quiet songs until we'd all gone to see Gang War. They played two nights at 7th Street Entry, and then one at the Main Room with Wayne Kramer from the MC5 and Johnny Thunders from The Heartbreakers. And, yeah, it was an awful show. It was really bad. And Johnny was messed up on maybe too much drugs or not enough drugs, I'm not sure. And the next day, I was talking to Paul on the phone and he just said, "I've got a new song." And I said, "What's it called?" And he said, "Johnny's Gonna Die". And that's a big deal because it was the first ballad, it was the first quiet song.
And so some months after that, he confided in me that he had been working on some solo things in the basement of his parents' house – piano, and solo acoustic guitars, some solo electric guitar. (He) asked if I would listen to some of the stuff confidentially because he didn't think it was appropriate for the band, and didn't want to put them off by him doing things that were appropriate for them, I guess. And so, for me, I can't tell you how it made me feel great that he would confide in me, and we kept it a secret. And he would bounce these songs off me. And it was an amazing experience. And I already thought he was great. I already thought the band was great. But when I heard those solo things, especially about four or five months in, he handed me a song called "You're Getting Married". And I don't know if you're familiar with the song, but we did put it as a bonus track on a reissue of the Stink album. In 2008, we did a CD reissue of all eight of their records and put bonus tracks on. And so "You're Getting Married" is available there. But I heard that song and I thought, I've grossly underestimated this guy. I thought he was great. But he's even greater than I thought he was. And to me, that's a really important part of the story.
And also, I did keep all those things to myself, except in a few cases where there were people that I thought really needed to know the breadth of what he could do. In particular, Michael Hill, who came into A&R, the band, when they got the record deal with Sire, part of Warner Brothers, in 1985. And I've known Michael for a couple of years. So we became friendly. He's a real music guy. And I think that had a lot to do with him getting signed, actually, was the fact that Michael had heard these songs and knew the strength of them. Even though Seymour Stein, the head of Sire, was the one who really signed them. But Michael was the one who knew some of the real details.
On recognizing talent
I suppose there are personality traits that might be things that I'd recognize, but that maybe comes after the fact. It's always about a song, to me, hearing a song, and also, a performance, whether it's live or in the studio. Because a great song, on its own, is a great song, but it also has to be performed in a way that draws you in. And so I think that it really just begins with a song … I'm not very versatile. I can't work with anything that I'm not head over heels about. So that limits me, and has limited me for my whole life. But in some ways I wish I could do it another way. I wish that I could be more versatile. But mostly, I just think I'm happy with the way I got to do it, because I stuck to my guns on a lot of stuff. And those are the things that I think were the best. There's been a few times where I've worked with things that I was not quite as crazy about. And generally speaking, those weren't successful. And I was left with kind of a hollow feeling. Whereas if you support something that you believe in 150% and it's successful, it's very rewarding. But if it's unsuccessful, I still feel I did the right thing, and that it's other people's loss. These are things that should have been heard by more people and weren't unfortunately.
On the legacy of Jay’s Longhorn
Longhorn was, I mean, just a remarkable thing. And it just happened at such an important time. I mean, it opened June 1, 1977, in kind of the heart of the punk rock/new wave movement. So, I mean, we couldn't believe it was happening. Across the street from the Longhorn was a place called the Blitz Bar in the basement of a strip club. It was just a dive, but that was the first place that really allowed some of these bands to play The Commandos. And I think even, certainly, before Flamin' Oh's, before Flamingo, I think they might have been called Prodigy in some of those early days. But anyway, seeing those bands at the Blitz Bar was really remarkable. But the Blitz Bar didn't know what they were doing. They weren't really going out of their way to showcase original music – this new original music, this punk rock/new wave stuff.
So when the Longhorn opened up, Jay Berine brought in a friend of his, Al Wodtke, to do the booking. And between Jay and Al, I think that their favorite band at the time was Flamingo. So Flamingo were the opening band at the Longhorn, and then the second week, I think it was Thumbs Up, which was Curtiss A's band, the third week was The Commandos. And that's really the triptych that launched the whole scene, as far as I'm concerned. And I knew of The Commandos, I'd seen them at the Blitz. I'd seen Curt and Thumbs Up play at the CC Club, right kitty-corner from Oar Folk, and then several other places. We went nuts over Curt, and just would follow him anywhere he played.
And so Flamingo were a little bit new to me. I might have known the guys, at least by their faces, from coming in the store. I hadn't seen them until that first Longhorn residency. They played four or five nights in a row, I think. And I mean, they were a very traditional rock band, but very modern, also, at the time. They didn't sound retro in any way. It was a very modern twist on a classic rock 'n' roll sound, I thought. If Flamingo played five nights in a row, I was there five nights. I mean, they were just an unbelievably great band. And, of course, Curt really was sort of the reason I wanted to start a record label. I thought he needed to have records made. And he and his sort of music director, Bob Dunlap, they were like a two-headed monster. That was funny because a lot of people didn't really think of them separately. It was Curt and Bob, Curt and Bob. They were joined at the hip, and they made each other better. And they had a little bit of a revolving lineup of the other people that were in the band from Frank Berry to Dave Phelps on drums, originally, and then Buck Hazlett and Dave Ahl, and, you know, all kinds of people played with them.
So watching those bands respond to being given a platform like they had at the Longhorn was amazing. And for a long time, it really was like our own little secret club. There was not a huge crowd of people that went there. And there was – I don't know what you call it – a honeymoon period or something that was just unbelievable. I mean, we'd go every night. It was a place where bands were allowed to do their original material. And at that time, a lot of the music in the Twin Cities was cover bands, or the West Bank scene, which was a little more roots-oriented. And great stuff, but it wasn't exactly what I was following at the time. I was excited by this other new music that was happening on the other side of the river.
On advice for aspiring musical artists
I think that one of the mistakes I see made too often, especially these days, with the quality of home recording equipment, people spend an inordinate amount of time woodshedding, and writing, and recording, and maybe not enough time on the live element. And I think that it's really too bad. You know, I still get a lot of demos from people just asking for feedback. And I can hear something that just knocked my socks off. And then you go to see them live and it's not at the same level.
It's tough to create a situation where you can play on a regular basis. A lot of times, if there's a writer and a band, and the band maybe isn't writing the songs ... if anything develops in terms of a career, the writer makes more money because he's getting publishing and the rest of the band isn't. And so that affects the way people either stick together or don't. But I think the point is really, you just got to figure out a way to get out there and play. And it seems to me, I mean, I don't think there's any explanation for why some can do it, and some can't. But you just gotta be thick-skinned, and you got to keep at it, and you got to play, play, play. And the people who do that are, I think, ultimately better than the people who just sit at home and record all the time and then occasionally play, or feel like, "Oh, I can't afford to go out." You just have to make it happen. And so I think that's a really important thing is to balance the writing and the recording with the live element.
