I moved to Minneapolis from Lincoln, Nebraska in August, 1998. My only regret at the time was leaving behind what I considered to be a vital, diverse, and exciting local music scene. Despite many trips to all the usual clubs, I saw and heard nothing local that truly thrilled me — no bands that I would even consider braving below-zero wind-chills and/or paying $5-$7 to see more than once. After a year of disappointment, the ennui had set it in to the degree that I tried bribing Omaha's indie-rock darlings Cursive with a place to stay and a home-cooked meal to play in the Twin Cities so I could get my rock on. All of this negativity changed, however, the first time I saw Astronaut Wife in concert.

I believe it was the year 2000, during one of the monthly After Hours parties at the Walker Art Center. Astronaut Wife was getting a lot of hype on Radio K (the University of Minnesota's radio station) for a little song called Cape Canaveral that they had released as an MP3. Yes, it was catchy, but I went to the party primarily so I could wander around the galleries whilst sucking down martinis. Then Astronaut Wife took to the stage and changed my life. From that point forward, I could no longer say things like "I hate pop music" with a straight face.

For those who are not "in the know", AW is the Twin Cities' intelligent and seductive answer to more prominent bands like LAIKA or STEREOLAB: Synth-driven Spaced-out Minimalist Electronica-pop. That's probably not a category you'll find at your record store of choice, but it's an apt description of AW and their music. AW is the brain-child of Christian Erickson, who gets help from Tim Ritter (on bass), and whose real genius lies not only in song-craft, but in the decision to bring aboard Angela Orluck and Janey Winterbauer as vocalists. I would be lying if I said that AW's over-all effectiveness has not decreased since their original third vocalist, Amy Turany (who was on-board for AW's first EP, Now That 1999 Is Gone), left the group to pursue other work. Nontheless, the two-part harmonies produced by Janey and Angela are nothing short of haunting. Flying Saucer captures (nearly) everything great about this group, and leaves you wanting more. Back to my story: