Don’t Cry For No Hipster

At one point over the weekend, while lounging at my dad’s house, I mentioned that I was going to see Ben Sidran on Monday night at The Dakota. I wasn’t super surprised that my dad had something to say as I knew Ben came from the jazz world (and that’s the world my dad lives and breathes) but was slightly surprised when my dad disappeared from the living room, went down to his music cave (literally thousands of CDs, records, and books have turned the basement into a maze of sorts) and came back with a book. “There Was a Fire: Jews, Music and the American Dream” by Ben Sidran. “Read the first couple of pages. They are about Ben’s bar mitzvah.” I rolled my eyes, but as the words sank into my brain and soul, I started to feel connected to Ben. There was humor, there was tradition, relatable lines, and lines that were almost hard to believe, but, more importantly, there was heart. I was hooked, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t snag a copy after reading just the first chapter. I didn’t know what kind of music was in store for me come Monday night, and my dad was a bit tight-lipped, as I feel like he knows that I like to go into my shows blindly if at all possible, but I knew I was going to get heart.

Ben Sidran is a bit of everything. He’s a jazz pianist, but he is also a producer, label owner, writer, and even a rock keyboardist. He was a member of the Steve Miller Band for a bit and was a session musician for everyone from The Rolling Stones to Eric Clapton. He has produced albums for everyone from Van Morrison to Diana Ross and has released over 35 solo recordings as a producer and musician. Long story short, Ben Sidran is a legend, but one who doesn’t seem to care whether his name is in the spotlight. Ben is a musician through and through, and I loved how that was the biggest takeaway from his performance on Monday night at The Dakota.

Ben wasted no time letting his personality steal the spotlight. Taking the stage with the rest of his band to a roar of applause, Ben quickly took a seat at the piano and started playing a very politically charged song. It was about how the America we are living in maybe isn’t the America we planned on, but it’s what we got. It was full of humor and poignant, politically charged thoughts. I loved hearing Ben’s voice create stubborn rhythmic patterns over the free-form-sounding piano notes his fingers gracefully danced over. It created a juxtaposition of beauty against severity. A blend of positivity and defeat. It was much deeper than the often laughable words he was saying, and it created a very comfy, cozy atmosphere to get lost in. After this opening song, Ben quickly shifted to thanking the people of Minneapolis for everything we’ve done since the beginning of the year. He talked about how he can only imagine how hard it was, but that Minneapolis is a strong and resilient place, and he was just happy to be here. I’ve heard a million bands say something like this, but something about the way Ben said it was just so plainly and perfectly put. He didn’t linger on the thought but let it linger in the air as he ushered in the other two musicians to join in on the second song.

Everyone who graced the stage seemed to be on the same low-key superstar level as Ben. On drums, you had Leo Sidran. Keeping it in the family, Leo is Ben’s son but definitely has his own name and accolades. He has a Latin Grammy and co-produced the Oscar-winning song “Al Otro Lado Del Rio” from The Motorcycle Diaries. Billy Peterson was on bass on Monday night. Billy was not only a member of The Righteous Brothers, but he also played electric and upright bass on Bob Dylan’s ‘Blood On The Tracks.’ A local legend, Billy was introduced to Ben Sidran by David Z. David Z produced Prince in the 80s and sadly passed away just a few weeks ago. About halfway through the show, Ben invited Ricky Peterson up on stage to join the trio on the organ. Ricky isn’t just Billy’s brother; he is a legend of his own right. He produced and arranged Prince’s “The Most Beautiful Girl in the World” and has toured with the likes of David Sanborn and Stevie Nicks. Long story short, the small and intimate stage of The Dakota was full of legends, but that wasn’t what it felt like. I mean, it did, because the talent you could hear and see coming from the stage was immense, but it just felt so low-key and informal. At one point, when pointing out everyone’s accolades, Ben talked about how Ricky had played organ for The Twins, Leo had played drums at some small neighborhood picnic, and Ben himself had played at a Whole Foods. That was the kind of down-to-earth energy that radiated from the stage on Monday night, and that just added to the charm and magic of the night.

I didn’t know what to expect from Ben Sidran’s music. Since my dad knew who he was, I assumed it would be avant-garde, artsy stuff I would have a hard time digesting, but instead I got beautiful melodies matched with almost beat-poetry-style vocals. I found myself jumping between two worlds. There were moments where I would get lost in the endless lines of notes from all three or four musicians that were on stage, but there were other times where I felt like I didn’t even hear the music, just the words that Ben Sidran was presenting in this straightforward, no-frills kind of way. Sure, it wasn’t quite what I was expecting, but it was what I needed, apparently, because this entire group had me hooked, line, and sinker throughout the night to the point where, when it was time to go, I had to linger for just a few more minutes to really digest it all.

I’ve talked about this before, but I feel like this was an example of when getting out of your comfort zone is truly something spectacular. I never thought I would be a regular at The Dakota. I thought it was an unattainable kind of venue. One that didn’t want someone who calls herself the “Girl at the Rock Shows” to sully their formal-leaning reputation. I never thought I would walk up and, without question, get ushered in and up to a table that has now been dubbed “my table” (by me), order some delicious food, and then have the honor of watching and documenting monumental musicians like Ben Sidran without knowing much about them going into the night. Life is weird, but don’t overthink it. Go with it and see where it takes you.