The Current Rewind: Nov. 2, 2004
Description: When First Avenue entered bankruptcy on Election Day 2004, some saw it as the end of an era. But others – including devoted employees, local music fans, and a certain stage-diving ally in City Hall – would not rest until they'd saved the club. This is the seventh episode of The Current Rewind's "10 Pivotal Days at First Avenue" season. If you missed the first six episodes, catch up below. • April 3, 1970 (The day it all began)• Nov. 28-29, 1979 (The days that told the future)• Sept. 27, 1982 (Bad Brains/Sweet Taste of Afrika/Hüsker Dü)• Aug. 3, 1983 (The birth of "Purple Rain")• Oct. 22, 1990 (Sonic Youth/Cows/Babes in Toyland)• March 4, 1991 (Ice Cube/WC and the MAAD Circle) Transcript of The Current Rewind season 2, episode 7: "Nov. 2, 2004" Cecilia Johnson VO: Hey, it's Cecilia, host and producer of The Current Rewind. If you're listening to this the day it drops, it's Election Day in the U.S. You may be wondering what a First Ave podcast is doing in your feed, today of all days. Well, first, we wanted to encourage you to vote, if you haven't already. On the flip side, if you're seeking a few moments of respite, we got you. Third, a while back, I noticed a really weird coincidence: This episode takes place on Election Day itself. In fact, some First Ave employees remember frantically working to save their club and having to take a break to vote. It's funny how history rhymes. [🎵 A few stock music selections slide from song to song, separated by brief bursts of static. After several seconds, the music drops out, and we hear the following interview clips in quick succession 🎵] Dan Corrigan: But we thought that it was not going to be open anymore. We thought it was done. DJ Smitty: Nathan was like, "Yeah, I think this is it." And we're like, "Really?" Like, "Yeah." [🎵 contemplative guitar fades up 🎵] Randy Hawkins: It was heartbreaking. Dan Corrigan: It was crazy, because when we closed the door for the – what we thought was the last time, all the lights in the whole place were off, but we turned on all the trouble lights. [As Dan mentions the trouble lights, a "twinkly" sound effect fades up. Then, the guitar song resumes] Cecilia Johnson VO: I'm Cecilia Johnson. This is The Current Rewind, the show putting music's unsung stories on the map. This season, we're looking back at 50 years of First Avenue, one of the Twin Cities' and the country's greatest live venues. So far this season, we've welcomed a series of guest hosts, but this episode, I'll be your guide through the story of First Avenue's bankruptcy. In this episode, we'll visit First Ave on one of its darkest days, which some folks took to be the end. But others – including devoted employees, local music fans, and a certain stage-diving ally in City Hall – would not rest until they'd saved the club. [guitar song fades out; rewind sound effect] Cecilia Johnson VO: Although it shocked a lot of music fans, First Avenue's 2004 bankruptcy was a long time coming. If you've been following this season of our show, you've probably got a general understanding of First Avenue's finances, from its genesis as the Depot up until 2004. Craig Finn: ...these carpetbaggers weren't bagging much cash. Joe Shalita: But First Avenue is First Avenue. A dingy little place – at first, it was real dingy – you know – Steve McClellan: We were, like, $60,000 in debt with no backup revenue source. Cecilia Johnson VO: And the whole way through, Allan Fingerhut had owned or co-owned the business. We introduced him in the first episode of our season, but just for a little recap: Fingerhut had grown up in a suburb of Minneapolis, and his family ran a profitable mail-order company. He was one of the founding members of "The Committee," the small group who opened the Depot at First Avenue and Seventh Street in 1970. The Depot entered Chapter 11 bankruptcy in 1971, and Cincinnati disco chain American Avents took over the club's operations in 1972, rebranding the Depot as Uncle Sam's. But the chain dissolved that partnership in about 1979. Soon afterward, Steve McClellan, the club's general manager, brought his old friend and roommate Jack Meyers aboard, to help manage money. Steve McClellan: We were a very good, in my mind, a good yin and yang, that when the club was doing well, I was in charge, but when we weren't doing well, Jack was in charge. Cecilia Johnson VO: And according to Jack Meyers, the fourth member of their quartet was Byron Frank. Jack Meyers: Allan Fingerhut grew up with a buddy named Byron Frank. They were inseparable for years. And Byron is a real accountant CPA – a very good businessman. And he ran all of Allan's concerns, and so we had a meeting in 1979 – Byron, Allan, Steve and Jack – and put together our plans for First Avenue, shook hands, and off we went. Our main rule from Allan was "never ask me for money," which we never did, thankfully, otherwise we wouldn't have been there so long. At any rate, that was the big meeting, and those were the four of us, and we always reported to Byron, just like all of or most of Allan's concerns reported to Byron. So Byron was what we'd call "boss." Allan was what we'd call "owner." And this was even better, because the owner lived in California, so he kept most of his good ideas away. Cecilia Johnson VO: Our producer Jesse Wiza spoke with Jack this summer. Jesse Wiza: So when you were assistant manager, what did you do on a typical day? Jack Meyers: Everything Steve didn't. It started out, Steve did the promotion and I did everything else, which means open the doors, hire and fire, run operations, and do the accounting when I had time, and count the money – you know. It was a real shoestring [operation], and I'm kinda proud of that. Steve McClellan: I knew not to go to him to ask for any special requests if we just had a terrible week or month. But if I just had like three sellout shows and we had – oh, I don't know, I think 30 grand would've been a lot of money at the time in the bank account. I'd go, "Whoa, we can fix the floors, we can fix everything." And then Jack would remind me that the $8,000 insurance bill is due at the end of the month, and he would line up $20,000-30,000 of payments due just to stay open. You know, ridiculous things like insurance. Jack Meyers: But Jack always made sure Allan got his check. Oh yeah, not only didn't he give us any money, but he got his check every month, which he was used to because Uncle Sam's sent him that check. So I sent him the same amount every month, and that was copacetic, and that's how it worked. That was, as we shall see, years later became very important. Cecilia Johnson VO: Jack, Steve, and a few others ran the office upstairs at First Avenue. Rob Milanov: But they were all day guys. Cecilia Johnson VO: And Rob Milanov, who worked at First Avenue from 1999 until the 2004 bankruptcy, was a night staffer. Rob Milanov: I started out as roaming security. You know, just the guy who wanders around the club trying to keep an eye on things. I eventually worked my way in barbacking and bartending and bussing and cashiering and – never worked stage but did a little bit of everything else. Cecilia Johnson VO: Like Richard Luka from earlier this season, Rob got a job at First Avenue while attending a show. Rob Milanov: We're standing in line, and they came down the line like, "We're short on people; anybody need a job?" [laughs] Cecilia Johnson VO: And unlike many of the people who jumped at that opportunity, Rob ended up staying for years. Rob Milanov: Everybody thought they wanted to work there, but once they started, the vast majority of people are gone within a couple days. Because, at the time, you didn't get paid anything, and you're risking your life, and it was a hassle. Cecilia Johnson VO: Like lots of restaurant and entertainment jobs, First Avenue was a "sink or swim" kind of gig. Rob Milanov: I mean, you'd be friendly with people right away, but to be honest, we were not the nicest to new employees. We threw you to the wolves and – and saw if you could survive, and – you'd get help in some ways, but at the same time, like I said – you had to prove yourself or you were just gonna be another person that lasted three days. Cecilia Johnson VO: While interviewing former employees, I heard about a particularly hilarious tradition. Only at First Avenue does "throw you to the wolves" translate to "involuntary karaoke." But that was part of being a new person. Rob Milanov: So if you're looking at the stage, there's that sitting rail along the left side of the room, and basically, at the employee meeting at the end of the night, you'd have to stand up on the sitting rail and sing a song. You didn't know this; occasionally, somebody would hear it through the grapevine, "This is what they did," or whatnot. But for the most part, most of us were completely surprised by this. Cecilia Johnson VO: And what did Rob sing? [🎵 "Are You Drinkin' With Me Jesus" by Mojo Nixon fades up 🎵] Rob Milanov: [laughs] Well, I stood up, thought for a few seconds, and I started singing the chorus to "Are You Drinkin' With Me Jesus" by Mojo Nixon, which was a popular choice. By the end of the chorus, most of the staff were singing along. [🎵 "Are You Drinkin' With Me Jesus" by Mojo Nixon plays for several seconds, fades down 🎵] Cecilia Johnson VO: But Rob's First Avenue was pretty different from that of the higher-ups. He says most of the office workers would go home by the time the concerts actually started. Rob Milanov: The night staff didn't really see the upper-upper management too much. The one we'd see the most was Steve, because he would at least stick around long enough to say hello to the bands as they were loading in. The office was kinda this foreign world. [laughs] We knew the office as far as like – getting change and them putting the money
