Having A Party: Har Mar Superstar Sings Sam Cooke @ The Triple Door [Seattle]
The Minneapolis artist known for his sexually charged over-the-top live shows turns his focus toward a reverent tribute to the King Of Soul that inspired him. Here’s our extensive review
Twenty years ago, the noise-rock / post-hardcore outfit that Sean Tillmann formed with two fellow high school students at Minnesota‘s Perpich Center For Arts Education, disbanded. Calvin Krime had a solid three-and-a-half year life span, releasing a pair of studio albums on Amphetamine Reptile and an EP through Polyvinyl, but the project had run it’s course. That same year, Tillmann released his first single under the name of Sean Na Na, a poppier guitar project initially utilized as an outlet for the songs he was writing that didn’t fit in with his former act. But while Sean Na Na would go on to put out a handful of albums, EPs, and 7-inches over the following decade, it didn’t quite fill every artistic desire for the multi-instrumentalist/vocalist/songwriter. In 2000, his self-titled debut under the R&B/dance lothario alter-ego, Har Mar Superstar, arrived via the Kill Rock Stars label, establishing a new direction that would, ultimately, go on to define his career.
Originally, Tillmann promoted Har Mar Superstar as being an endeavor of his own fictional brother, “Harold Martin” Tillman — a narrative which multiple publications ran with — but the moniker was actually a reference to the Har Mar shopping mall located in the Twin Cities suburb of Roseville, Minnesota. The light-hearted tongue-in-cheek approach translated to the project itself with its infectious grooves; clever, often comedic and innuendo-filled lyrics; and a sweaty, high energy live show that would typically involve the performer stripping down to his briefs and singing while doing a head shoulder/neck stand. It wasn’t unheard of for him to climb onto the bar, or, perhaps, even make out with someone in the front row. There was plenty of energy and momentum in those early days, not to mention a healthy dose of fearlessness. But, as of 2018, the man has been in the entertainment industry for more than half of his life and, like anything worth a shit, his work has evolved.
The next two Har Mar Superstar albums, You Can Feel Me (2002) and The Handler (2004), were both released by Record Collection, an “indie” which counts Warners Brothers as their parent label. You can find old footage on YouTube of Sean performing in what appears to be a cafeteria at the Warner Brothers building. Sporting a magnificent rat-tail, he dances and gyrates in nothing but shoes, socks, and a pair of tighty blue Y-fronts. As he thrusts and grinds his way around the room, he also squirts hot sauce packets all over his body. Superstar displays no apprehension in getting close to members of his audience and, at one point, requests confirmation that “We’re all adults here, right?” The song that he’s performing in the video is “Cry 4 Help, ” which features such lyrics as “Pelvic thrust put your bodies in motion / take a little sip of my sexual potion” and “Everything I Piss On Is Solid Gold.” When I asked him about the video during our interview in 2010, he verified that he “was playing lunch time at the Warner Brothers complex.” Adding, “So that was pretty sweet. I went in the kitchen and was rolling paper-towel rolls out in front of me like a red carpet, sort of thing. Walking on them across the room, just– Yeah, people loved it. It was awesome. Then they let me go and take all the records I want. It was amazing.” The video ends with him instructing the audience by saying, “Give it up for me, I’m fucking awesome. Thank you for coming down, now go make me famous.” It was clear that everyone did love what he was doing, but with such a unique talent and routine, they may not have known exactly how to market him to the masses, if they wanted to.
During the interview, we also discussed an early appearance at the Reading Fest (2002?) where he explained how, because the mainstage was getting rained out during Foo Fighters, it prompted photographers to seek shelter in a space that he happened to be performing in. As he strutted around, walking on tables, and kicking over people’s drinks, cameras flashed and the images spread rapidly. It was his first tour over there and he quickly began to gain a following in the UK, eventually landing gigs as the sponsor for more than one product overseas. Since his live show required little more than a mini-disc player or tape machine of backing beats to perform at a moments notice, it allowed him to organically fill gaps in bills on the spot. From there, he made fans out of other artists and wound up as the opener for acts ranging from The Strokes and The Yeah Yeah Yeahs to The Red Hot Chili Peppers. He landed Hollywood film roles. He became friends with and made out with people like Kate Moss in one of his videos, and again with Macaulay Culkin on stage, more recently — the latter of which wound up published in The Enquirer as some sort of major scoop, being referred to as a “Gay shocker.” Tillmann has been asked to write songs for pop-stars like Britney Spears and J-Lo — although, they never recorded them, in the end. He spent time traveling the world. He’s lived in New York, as well as Los Angeles, in the heart of the industry. But, more recently, Sean moved back home to the Minneapolis area and bought a home. On a more personal note, his social media also reflects someone in a really happy committed relationship. But don’t get it twisted and assume that he’s packed it in by returning to settle in the Midwest, because he’s actually putting out what is, arguably, some of the strongest material of his career, and seems more focused than ever. He reflects the aura of someone who is clearer, as if he’s only doing whatever feels right to him, and what he wants to do at the moment. Fortunately for us, what he’s been wanting to do lately, is tour an entire show built around the music of the late King Of Soul, Sam Cooke.
We arrived at the venue as smiling patrons began funneling out of the early show. Due to it selling out, the late night 10pm performance, which we were attending, was later added. The Triple Door is a bit of a swanky joint with a jazz club feel to it, although I’ve managed to see acts ranging from Orchestra Baobab and Charlie Hunter to Gang Gang Dance, Silver Apples, and Michael Gira grace their stage, over the years. Upstairs is their Wild Ginger restaurant and Musiquarium Lounge with the subterranean main room located through a set of quadruple doors. We were escorted down gently lit stairs to our table where we perused a pricey dinner menu, before my date of the last 12 years headed off to the ladies room.
When she returned, Kim asked me to guess what she had found in there. “Heroin?” She answered with, “Maybe.” After turning in a small mesh wallet to the merch booth, the woman running it opened the pouch to check for ID, only to reveal a “fake” credit card, some sort of clear straw, and numerous tiny ziplock baggies filled with white powder. It, somehow, seemed fitting for the occasion. Status-wise, cocaine rides the line (pun intended), maintaining a murky position in the drug world. It’s something that Kristy Swanson might steal from her rich vacationing parents, so that she can invite Kirk Cameron to the bathroom at her Less Than Zero party, but it’s also a grimy face drug to be railed through a rolled up Bonnaroo stub at 3am behind a campground Honey Bucket. There’s no question that The Triple Door is a classy, high end theater with its crescent-shaped booths facing a large majestic, recessed stage, often featuring a Steinway & Sons baby grand; but it’s also a place that has held psych fests in the past, and where I have never felt unwelcome. Meanwhile, I’m waiting to hear timeless genre-defining soul music performed by a remarkable vocalist, who I’ve literally seen pull out his own pubes and blow them toward a crowd like dandelion seeds. I ordered some fries and a gin and tonic.
As with Sean Na Na, Har Mar Superstar grew from a solo project to one where Tillmann is supported by a full backing band. Also like Sean Na Na, the members, numbers, and arrangement within that unit have shifted and rotated over time. The current lineup that took the stage was a sextet of Minneapolis musicians, adding keys and a pair of horn players to the more stripped down drums, bass, and guitar formation that he would travel with back in the day. Har Mar has been working with a similar setup for a while now, including when we caught him opening for The Afghan Whigs in October. One major difference from that last tour is the switch from longtime on-and-off collaborator/multi-instrumentalist, Denver Dalley to an incredibly versatile guitarist by the name of Ethan Elseth, who teaches at the St. Paul School of music and was the ideal replacement to deliver the necessary warm, soulful, jazzy guitar lines. Another difference was that, instead of rocking matching red 50s-style throwback satin jackets over “Personal Boy” / “Personal Boix” T-shirts, this time, everyone was looking dapper in sport coats. This, of course, was a slightly classier affair.
The band was playing the music to “Twistin’ The Night Away” when Superstar entered in a very classic and nicely fitting suit. His haircut was clean and tight, and the mustache on his face was completely devoid of irony. The man looked sharp, yet relaxed, holding the microphone in one hand and a can of Ranier in the other. He welcomed the crowd and invited us to get up and move around if we felt so inclined. The music mellowed and they went into “Get Yourself Another Fool.” Tillmann momentarily planted himself at the edge of the stage, which was lined with patrons sitting at their tables; his voice like warm maple syrup cascading over a stack of hot cakes. He was hitting all he right notes and giving it everything that he had from the jump, but it never seemed strained or forced. Sam Cooke, himself, was known for delivering perfect vocal performances and making it look easy. It just poured out from inside of him — that’s the “soul” in the soul music that he pioneered. Sean has a similar gift, so while you can both see and feel him getting into it, there is little impedance between his core, where he was drawing his performance from, to when it hit our ears. To steal the title from a film that he actually played a small role in, it was “pitch perfect,” as if his voice was hovering on magnetic rails.
The tempo picked up slightly with some added swing on the song “Lovable,” and things got even more fun and upbeat with “Another Saturday Night.” It was with that song that I noticed how the frontman was putting his own perfect amount of spin on the material. For the most part, these were pretty faithful renditions — this was, by no means, an Alien Ant Farm “Smooth Criimnal” situation — but, at the same time, Sam Cooke had one incredible and unmistakable voice, with just the right amount of subtle rasp around the perimeter of an endlessly smooth and molasses sweet center. Sean is clearly propelled by his inspiration and love of the music, but allows that to drive him rather than trying to pull out a full-on impression of his idol. His own amazing voice does the trick just fine. Har Mar and his band naturally fell into their own pocket, and it works simply because… it works. In other words, it doesn’t feel forced. If he didn’t believe that this concept would be able to do the legacy justice, I’m convinced that he never would have agreed to take it on at all. That’s the exact reason why Tillmann sticks to Cooke‘s more pop and love oriented work, recognizing that, while a classic like “A Change Is Gonna Come” might be one of the most powerful moments in the entire catalog, it’s really not his place to represent that subject matter as a white man from the suburbs.
Hearing so many classics from Cooke‘s tremendous song book was a reminder of how much the singer accomplished before his untimely death at the age of 33. Next in the set were songs like “Wonderful World” — the “Don’t know much about history…” joint, not the Louis Armstrong number — and the heartbreaking, “I’ll Come Running Back To You,” which really allowed Sean‘s voice to soar in little restrained bursts. It was at this point that he took a moment to speak about his love of Cooke and what brought him to do the tribute in the first place. He stated how the late singer was one of the genuine greats, and how he grew up hearing and loving the music, only to have his mind blown one day when he realized that this plethora of brilliant tunes had all come from “the same guy.” He mentioned how the full tour grew organically after a jazz club in Minneapolis offered him the opportunity for a dream gig doing a truly reverent Sam Cooke show. I remember seeing the special 4-course Valentines Day dinner and show promoted for Dakota Jazz club, and hoping then, that it would somehow be possible for a tour to make its way out here to the west coast the way that the Gene Ween Does Billy Joel show never has. But while most of us listened intently to the performer baring his soul to us, just like he had been through song, up to that point, one dipshit felt like it would be a prime opportunity to scream “Take it off!!” toward the stage, signalling one other jackass to follow suit.
“Fuck you, dude!” came out of Har Mar‘s mouth so quick that it could have been drawn from a holster. He explained that he’d been planning to tell us more, but that guy just “fucked it up.” Instead, he simply went into “Nothing Could Change This Love.” Fortunately, nothing could really change the momentum of the show, either.
If there was ever a time to reference that played out phrase of, “This is why we can’t have nice things,” this was that fucking moment. It was like a record scratched, and it’s hard to say whether it makes things better or worse when you already half expect them to take place. This is one reason why the history of Sean Tillmann is relevant, because if I knew there was potential for some bullshit like this to go down tonight, then you better believe that the man whose show it is was fully aware of it. Still… you hope for better. Consider the fact that Har Mar has opened for groups like Incubus, before, and you have to imagine that the RHCP fans weren’t always so accommodating. He’s had to listen to people make tired, lazy comparisons to Ron Jeremy over and over again, or express various levels of shock that a male vocalist has the gall to express himself even remotely sexually, or approach a room with such confidence unless they are over 6 feet with a personal trainer. Like a great stand up, he’s forged his craft performing to and winning over rooms that he knew were set up for him to bomb in, and, in the process, has also become skilled at shutting down the hecklers. It’s second nature, at this point.
The blessing and the curse of someone like Tillmann being so multi-dimensional is that the one-dimensional world doesn’t always know where to place him. He does have a comedic side that he’s nourished, but its ridiculous to believe that should detract from the fact that he’s also a tremendous songwriter. Maybe it’s surprising to see a man in leopard drawls belting out some of the tunes that he does, but the limitations on your own mind can’t change the limitless potential beyond it. Har Mar is from Minneapolis, so it makes sense that he has been greatly influenced by Prince, but even the Purple One‘s sexuality, aesthetics, and innovation often overshadowed other aspects, in particular ways, and left him under-recognized for talents like his mindblowing guitar skills. Should one aspect be suppressed for another to shine more brightly and be accepted? I guess that argument could go on forever, but tonight wasn’t about sequined forearm-length gloves and straddling chairs, anyway. Tonight was expensive dinners, a horn section, suits and ties, and the music of Sam Cooke. But by that same token, if you’re chirping from the crowd, you’re still doing it at someone that started their career in an AmRep punk band.
While this brief interruption did mark a slight turning point in the evening, it’s kind of amazing how little it affected the actual music, which remained spot on. When Har Mar went back to singing, it was as if nothing ever happened, except for the moment when he stopped himself from removing his jacket mid-song, lamenting that he can’t make himself more comfortable now, without playing into the heckler’s comment. The song ended and he called the man out again, reminding him to “shut the fuck up.” He addressed the earlier interruption by saying, “I get it. You saw a show 20 years ago. I’m a 40-year-old man, now.” Adding, “Let me do my fucking job.” From there, he served up a beautiful rendition of “Cupid,” which is easily one of my favorite Sam Cooke songs. Once he was finished, that’s when the following gem came out of the performer’s mouth, while introducing the next tune.
“I’d like you to stand up, but if you feel so inclined to keep sitting and doing heroin, that’s fine. And that is not a joke, because I’ve seen the west coast. You treat your homeless very poorly out here.”
Ouch!!!
To be honest, while that earlier shout from the audience member gave me an instant cringe, this was the only genuinely heavy moment of the evening. With this reckless buckshot Har Mar was spraying down the entire crowd. It sucked the oxygen out of the room. That being said, I’m kind of fucked up, so I was into it, and found this invisible, slightly suffocating weight hilarious. The show was still great, but in-between songs, Tillmann would have these momentary, “You know what? Fuck that!” moments, make a passing quip, and then continue right back into a marvelous heartfelt performance. Plus, the singer actually lived on the west coast for years, himself, and I can’t pretend as if Kim didn’t literally find a bunch of powder in the bathroom earlier. Beyond that, the mussels in the Puget Sound actually tested positive for opioids, recently, and there’s no denying that we are dealing with a fucked up housing problem in the city, so I wasn’t shook. This shit wasn’t targeted at me.
The next song was a return to the intro with the full version of “Twistin’ The Night Away.” The crowd did get up and sing along, as suggested, while Tillmann busted out his own moves on stage. That weighty moment truly was fleeting, and now the room felt light and joyous. “Sorry about getting heavy.” He apologized, and let us know that we, “might want to get up again,” for the next number. After “Having A Party,” Sean confessed to us that he was “a baby child” that “gets ornery” this deep into singing for 3 hours, during back-to-back shows. The audience was still up and dancing, fully singing along. The vocalist removed his coat, jokingly claiming, “This is for you,” before retracting the statement with, “No. It’s not.” This was followed with, “I promise to keep the outbursts to a minimum.” He then brought our attention to how his sax man, Nelson Devereaux, would be rocking some jazz flute, before breaking into, “Willow Weep For Me.” “You guys having a good time?” he asks. “So am I. Sometimes, I smoke the wrong weed.” He had the whole room with him as he crushed a rendition of “Bring It On Home To Me.” Then it was time for the section of the evening dedicated to straight Har Mar jams.
With the tie coming off, it signaled that shit was about to get loose. They launched into this portion with the roller rink disco funk of “Prisoner,” a track appearing on 2013‘s By Bye 17 and co-written by Strokes drummer and previous Har Mar Superstar backing band member, Fabrizio Moretti. There’s a moment during the song where the whole band performs a synchronized 360-degree dance, of sorts, hopping counter clockwise on the beat, so that they were always facing in the same direction, while continuing to perform. Staying on theme, the selection chosen for this block was packed with songs where the influence of Sam Cooke had seeped into them in one way or another. It was restricted to newer Har Mar output in which the songwriter has allowed himself to explore less humor-based material and more emotionally direct terrain. This included Bye Bye 17 cuts like “Restless Leg” and, from his most recent LP, Best Summer Ever (2016), the song “Youth Without Love,” which was penned by Julian Casablancas (The Strokes, The Voidz), who also released both albums on his label, Cult Records. One of the highlights was the soul searing ballad, “How Did I Get Through The Day,” which is the type of song that I have to imagine Sean recognized was his masterpiece the moment that it was finished.
The set ended with the solid, driving groove of “We Don’t Sleep,” during which Har Mar attempted his patented head stand move. He didn’t quite stick it completely, but continued with the song, giving it everything that he had as he rolled around on the stage and rose to his knees. The horns got a nice moment to shine on this one, as did drummer, Ryan Mach. When he returned for the encore, Tillmann was down to a white T-shirt. It was easy to predict that he’d finish things off with “Lady You Shot Me,” the title being a reference to Sam Cooke‘s famous last words. It was also easy to predict that he would absolutely bring the house down with it. Not satisfied with his previous attempt, he stuck the headstand this time around, held it for a good long while, and never ceased from delivering his vocals in the process.
It’s not uncommon to anticipate something, only to be disappointed when it ultimately arrives. With the Har Mar Superstar Sings Sam Cooke show, it was the complete opposite. This is pretty much exactly what I had waited and hoped for. It’s more of a rarity than I’d like to admit, but I was completely satisfied. One impressive aspect was how current and of-the-moment everything felt; a true testament to the resilience of Sam Cooke‘s material, and the Minneapolis ensemble’s ability to resurrect its spirit. It didn’t feel so much like we were wallowing in a weird nostalgia, or even transported to another time period, but rather to a very specific place and feeling. What really mattered was that this was a night of joy and celebration, something that, believe it or not, the brief mini “outbursts” actually emphasized. The tribute was reverent, but it was, by no means, sterile.
A long time ago, I made the claim somewhere on this site that, “from the beginning, Har Mar has been armed with little more than a confidence in his abilities and the ability to be confident.” I find it incredibly fortunate that he’s had the confidence to take on such a daunting project with the belief that it was destined to work out if he only approached it with pure intentions. More than just “well intentioned,” every moment of the performance felt “real.” He embodied Cooke‘s songbook and owned it, without snuffing out its soul. At one time, Har Mar Superstar was really part stage persona that the songwriter presented, but the two ultimately fused more and more into the same person, as he has continued to grow as an artist and as a human, in general — something that we should all aspire to continue doing until we leave this physical plane. It is somewhat ironic, then, that Sean Tillmann has never felt more true, honest, or genuine as a performer than when we saw him take on a show built around the work of a completely different artist with their own unsurmountable legacy. With the Har Mar Sings Sam Cooke tour, the Minneapolis songwriter truly feels as if he is completely within his element. But, more importantly is the fact that we were all welcomed in with the opportunity to be there, as well.
This leg of the Har Mar Superstar Sings Sam Cooke tour finishes off this week with three Illinois shows, before picking up again at the end of July. Full list of tour dates can be found at HarMarSuperstar.com.