The good people at Racket have deemed themselves arbiters of rock ’n’ roll territoriality, at least when it comes to Minnesota acts. They would have you believe that the Hold Steady are not a Minnesota band because, although the group features several North Star Staters, they formed in New York City.
The case of Marcy Playground is a bit trickier.
While it’s true the band also formed in NYC and they’ve also boast multiple Minneapolitans (frontman John Wozniak and bassist Dylan Keefe), Marcy Playground were named after the Minneapolis school Wozniak once attended—that’s screamingly local! I urge my sometimes-benevolent sometimes-bosses: Broaden your definitional framework to include the Minnesota dudes behind “Sex and Candy.” (Editor’s note: Sure, why not? Marcy Playground are local now.)
We, as Minnesotans, should take credit for more cool shit—why not brag about alt-rock hitmakers Marcy Playground? Formed in 1994, the group, powered by that signature song, went platinum in 1997 with their debut self-titled LP. Marcy Playground haven't released an album since 2009, though the ‘90s nostalgia live circuit has proved lucrative for Wozniak and Keefe, the two original members. With a Twin Cities gig Friday at the Minnesota Yacht Club Festival and the upcoming 30th anniversary of “Sex and Candy,” the certifiably local bassist is asked: Do you feel old?
“It depends when you ask me,” Keefe says with a chuckle. “At the moment, I don’t. And actually most of the time I don’t. I’m very impressed people have cared this long about us.” Keefe did admit that it’s odd to think about the 30-year-old music he was listening to at, say, 20—Chuck Barry being the primary example—and how long ago that must seem to today’s 20-year-olds.
Keefe hasn’t been coasting on the success of “Sex and Candy” or his band’s criminally underrated sophomore album, 1999’s Shapeshifter. (Do yourself a favor and listen to this reporter's personal favorite song from that album, “Wave Motion Gun,” whose bassline Keefe says was crafted to merge the styles of Paul McCartney and Sting. It rips.) Keefe keeps himself busy as the director of sound design for Radiolab, a popular podcast from WNYC, New York City’s public-radio frequency. He says that, although “Dylan Keefe of Marcy Playground” may be engraved on his tombstone, some of the biggest “wait, you’re that guy?” moments come from fans of his radio work. “They’re always like, ‘Holy shit! You do that?’” he says, adding that roadies tend to be big Radiolab listeners.
Keefe has worked in public radio for 25 years now, and he jokes that, coming from the home of American Public Media and Minnesota Public Radio, ending up at a place like WNYC felt preordained. Minnesota’s public media scene is only really rivaled by Australia, he says, and its influence stuck with him even after he expatriated the Midwest for the East Coast. “The moment I was able to stream things online, I was streaming The Current,” Keefe says.
Though he’s a New Yorker these days, Keefe says homecoming shows always feel special. His grandparents are buried at Fort Snelling National Cemetary; his mom attended the University of Minnesota when he was young, and would bring him to class with art supplies so he could sit in the back and draw. And there’s at least one constant reminder of his state pride: Keefe has a tattoo of a pheasant on his right forearm, in honor of all the birds he blasted as a young Minnesota hunter. It’s home.
“Whether one swims in it or stays in it, one can’t avoid it. It’s truly your roots,” Keefe says. “And to now be an old man and have experienced a lot of other things and be able to look at that culture—outside of a cartoonish, Fargo-ish perspective—where did I come from?”
Keefe hasn’t been back to Minnesota since before Operation Metro Surge terrorized the state earlier this year. While watching media orgs from around the world descend on Minneapolis like hawks, Keefe felt an immense sense of pride for his home state. Keefe says that seeing Minnesotans band together this winter reminded him a bit of his childhood. When he was in fourth or fifth grade in Minneapolis, he says a Hmong student displaced by war came to his school. One of that student’s only ways of commuting with classmates was through his drawings, which often depicted violence and war.
“He probably felt like he was on another planet, and we probably felt like he came from another planet… We banded together to try and make this kid feel as safe as he possibly could, not because a bunch of people told us, but just being able to tell that this kid had been through hell; we were going to make sure he knew that he was no longer in hell,” Keefe says. “I’m extremely proud to be not just from there, but to see the faces from all kinds of different political backgrounds [fighting back during Operation Metro Surge].”
Keefe says he’s bummed that he can’t stay for much of the Yacht Club Festival after Marcy Playground perform—he, Wozniak, and drummer Shlomi Lavie have to jet after their set for a concert in Everett, Washington, the next day.
“I think Cage the Elephant is one of the better bands of our time,” Keefe says. “I’ve hung out with Ziggy Marley’s band, and he and, of course, his dad [Bob] are just huge influences on me. Things like that are what’s sticking with me now, the access and the camaraderie that I’ve had to other musicians.”
We probed Keefe, asking him which bands have talked the most shit about Minnesota over the years, but the diplomatic, classy, and very local bassist respectfully took the high road. “Minneapolis-St. Paul is particularly special to us,” he says.
Minnesota Yacht Club
With: Marcy Playground, the Lumineers, the Black Keys, Matchbox Twenty, Geese, the Strokes, Atmosphere, more
When: Friday through Sunday, July 17-19
Where: Harriet Island Regional Park, 49 Harriet Island Rd., St. Paul,
Tickets: $160 single day, $315 3-day, VIP options abound; find more info here
