Before Friday’s taping of Drinking with Ian, I decided I was going to do just that—drink with Ian. OK, not exactly with him, mind you, but I was going to take the show’s ethos to heart and see what happened. The result of that lies herein. Be warned some of this makes little to no sense. 

It was still light out when I arrived with my show companion to First Avenue’s Mainroom. The show was still being set up; they were doing dry runs with the cameras, etc. After milling around for a bit, we discovered they had $2 Pabst Blue Ribbon Tallboys on sale next door at the 7th Street Entry. Score. 

After hanging out in the Entry for a bit and talking to a band that was playing there that night, we realized we were missing the beginning of the first show (DWI usually tapes three episodes in succession), and raced next door. The room was still filling up and we got a spot near the front. I knew where this night is headed so I tried to cram all the info in my head and make it stay there, as I brought nothing to write with. Ian had a new couch, which is quite an upgrade from the graffiti-filled former minivan bench that was present the last time I saw a taping. There is a table and a faux bearskin rug. 

The show is ostensibly a variety show, but one more subversive than most that you’ve seen. There is always an interview with someone local, who has usually written a book, made a movie or is somehow “on the scene” around town. A musical guest is also part of the formula but then there is Haiku Jim who reads intentionally mean (and sometimes intentionally offensive) poetry and a bartender named Ollie Stench whose sole purpose is to get the crowd stewed, making shots with names like The Freeloading Bastard, which are handed out mid-show. 

Moon Maan - Photo by David de Young

During the break, I ran over to the Entry a couple more times for the delicious $2 PBRs, which nobody seemed to know about. Yeah, it seemed like a bad idea but I was going to fulfill my duty. 

The second show started and I began to wish I had brought a notebook—I was never going to remember all of this. The interview was with either a former or a current 911 operator who wrote a book about all the things (sad, funny and idiotic) that she has had to deal with. They played a “call” that the DWI crew had made to 911, which was pretty funny… but I don’t remember why. 

Then Ian interviewed a pair of brothers who were part of the “48 Hour Film Festival” with their movie about a tortured dog (who was actually one of the brothers in a costume they had rented just a couple of hours before filming took place.) By the time Parts For All Makes played, I was hammered. PFAM sounds like a mix of Metric and Belle and Sebastian minus all of the preciousness. I know I said, “Dude, these guys are awesome.” to at least three people, one of whom I didn’t really know and one of whom was female. But I meant it, over the past few weeks I’ve caught at least parts (no pun intended) of three of their shows and have liked them a little bit more each time. 

Parts For All Makes - Photo by David de Young

Out front, I completely missed the interview portion of the show, (I was still drinking vodka with PFAM) but I got to see Beatrix*JAR perform a few of their ever-so-slightly-goofy yet exceptionally spooky and haunting, ultimately danceable songs. They have mastered what’s called circuit-bending and have modified a few Speak ‘n Spells to function as musical instruments alongside a slew of other electronic equipment. I loved their stage presence, the way they act like cheerleaders trying to get the crowd going to great effect. They are one of those local bands that flies just below a lot of people’s radar, but judging by the crowd’s reaction they may have won some new fans, and performing on a television show can’t do anything but help either. 

I wandered out of the club shortly after, having drunk way too much but having officially drunk with Ian. I don’t know exactly what I was trying to prove, to be honest, maybe I had delusions of Oscar Wilde or Hemingway in my head, but the fact that you can get astonishingly drunk with a roomful of mostly strangers and have a great time was proven once and for all.