Of Absolute Hoots, Haymarkets and the Iowa Rock and Roll Hall of Fame

My friend and coworker, Mark, is not exactly what I would describe as a rock star. Low-key and laid-back, yes, and also a heck of a nice guy who’s fun to kill some time with chatting on a slow weekday afternoon when all there is to do are some blah projects that are as tedious as listening to a radio evangelist’s sermon while driving. However, if I were to tell you he’s a rock star, you probably wouldn’t believe me. I can understand this—I didn’t believe it at first. When I first heard Mark played guitar, I thought “Oh, that’s cool. He’s in a garage band. Wonder if they play music in Cresco and Decorah?” Then I learned that Mark was an inductee in the Iowa Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. (http://www.iowarocknroll.com/inductee-details.php?id=278 ) So yeah.

The Iowa Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is a concept that is still hard for me to comprehend, mostly because it has the words “Iowa” and “Rock and Roll” in the same sentence. It’s like describing Dick Cheney as “whimsical.” On the other hand, it’s not like the genre has completely passed the state over. The heavy metal band Slipknot hails from Des Moines, as does the lead singer’s spinoff band Stone Sour. The legendary Surf Ballroom, the last concert of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopper is located in Clear Lake, Iowa, and every year the Surf hosts a Winter Dance Party Tribute in honor of the musicians. So Iowa definitely has a place in rock and roll history. At least as much a place as Cleveland.

Despite the fact that Mark is part of the whole Iowa rock and roll scene, I have never gotten the chance to see him perform in concert. Then I heard that he would be playing at a Decorah bar that Saturday, and I knew what I would be doing that weekend.

The band Mark was playing with is called Absolute Hoot, and they were playing a venue called the Haymarket, a small bar in Decorah. Trying to describe the Haymarket is hard, because it’s a dive that somehow manages to transcend its being and become something else entirely. The bar itself occupies most of the ground floor of a two-story building two blocks away from downtown Decorah. The building is old. I’m not entirely sure how old, but it would be right at home in a black-and-white picture of Decorah circa 1913. The outside is unpretentious brick, with one side painted to reveal the establishment’s name. As I approached, the building, I was told by a bouncer who looked to be one part college student, one part farmer and one part skater punk that there was a four dollar cover charge. I paid the fee and stepped into the dive bar of dive bars.

Absolute Hoot sets up

I’m not exactly a connoisseur of bars, but you can tell roughly what kind of bar you’ve stepped into by the little cues. Things like patches of linoleum missing from the floor, or the bathroom having a thin sheet of metal nailed over the space where a glass window used to be, or just the fact that the floor linoleum may not have been cleaned since the Clinton administration. Some cheap wood paneling lining the walls and an oak bar that has probably seen a few decades of use are also good indicators. The Haymarket has all this and more. The front door leads to a sparse antechamber that leads in turn to the bar, a narrow area where the bar is on the right and about four feet over is an auxiliary bar of sorts, a free-standing wall where decorative wood columns create a cage-like separation between the main bar area and the rest of the establishment. On the other side of the wall there was a lot of open room, although a pool table in the upper left hand side took up part of it. The band setting up in the lower right hand side took up more space. Against the free-standing wall there was a large poker table and some chairs. The clientele wore mostly flannel, t-shirts and worn jeans with boots or tennis shoes. I got a distinctly blue-collar vibe from the place. Want to get dressed up and have a night on the town? There are plenty of fancy-pants places for that—here is where people come to drink and shoot pool.

Décor aside, the Haymarket may be one of the best music scenes in Decorah. They constantly bring in bands from Iowa, Minnesota and Wisconsin, playing rock, country, blues, and folk, and they manage to consistently beat the pants off other local bars in terms of live bands. You can’t help but be impressed. In that sense, the Haymarket is a jewel in the rough.

Mark and his bandmates were getting set up when I arrived, waiting on one of their members who was having trouble getting her car started. It’s one of those hazards of playing you never think about when seeing a band perform. After all, there is a lot of background setup that needs to happen in order for a show to go on. Most big-name bands have roadies and sound technicians to take care of this, and their job is mostly to remain unseen. When you get to smaller venues like the Haymarket, though, you start to see what’s really involved. Mark was hunched over a soundboard, making small adjustments as the band waited for its final member, and the rest of them were doing individual soundchecks of their own. Music stands sat in front of each member, loaded with papers, and the setlist was taped to the floor. After a few minutes, the final member made it to the show, got her guitar hooked up, and Absolute Hoot started to play.

Absolute Hoot performs

All things considered, the band was pretty good, and they played a mix of music that I think worked well with the venue. There were some contemporary-ish country songs, older country songs, 50s and 60s rock and pop songs, and in one memorable instance an Aerosmith cover song. Slowly a crowd started to form in the Haymarket, which didn’t take much. After forty people had arrived, there was standing room only, and if you had to get up and go to the bathroom, you could reasonably expect the seat you had to be taken when you got back. However, it had to be good for the band. There’s nothing like playing and knowing that a lot of people are enjoying themselves while you play.

Mark rocks out

Another interesting thing was that the two women of Absolute Hoot wore dresses and generally looked made up. The men of the band, on the other hand, looked as though they had just come in off the street, seen some vacant instruments, and decided to start playing music. In a way, this made sense—the two women held most of the vocal duties, so it made sense for them to dress up a bit if they were going to be in the spotlight. Granted, the drummer did a lot of lyrics as well, but then again, he was behind the drum set, and getting dressed up to play the drums, which is the most physically demanding instrument to play, is a lot like putting on a button-up shirt to go jogging. Also, the drum set is between you and the audience, so honestly who cares what you wear? It struck me that you could get away with wearing a lot of stuff you ordinarily couldn’t. Which may be why you so rarely see shots of drummers in the music video.

Absolute Hoot was a lot of fun. If you happen to be in Decorah when they play, I highly recommend them. The cost is under $5, the musicians are all really good, and who knows—they might be inducted into the Iowa Rock and Roll Hall of Fame someday.