The Happy-Hour Kid
Chris Riemenschneider
Star Tribune

Piano man Andrew (Cadillac) Kolstad calls his weekly gigs his schooling, but he's already a consummate showman.

Singer and pianist Andrew (Cadillac) Kolstad rides the happy hour express, playing for those who want to shake off their work woes three times a week. You can't miss Andrew (Cadillac) Kolstad when he's in the room with you. Which is one of the reasons he seems like such an oddball choice for a happy-hour act.

Usually, musicians who play to early-evening crowds are inconspicuous and mellow. They're meant to fade into the background.

Not Kolstad, who stands out like fluorescent wallpaper at his three weekly happy-hour gigs. With his greased-up mound of hair and vintage suits or tuxedo jackets and bow-ties -- like a cross between a young Johnny Cash, Pee Wee Herman and an extra in "The Outsiders" -- the 26-year-old boogie-woogie piano man attracts attention even before he starts performing.

"Hey, Cadillac!" one of the regulars at the Nomad hollered last week, as Kolstad pulled off the cover of the club's rustic old piano.

After getting a pint of Beamish and shutting off the Arcade Fire CD playing on the speakers, Cadillac was up and running.

He revved the engine with an instrumental medley that was part Pinetop Perkins, Count Basie and theme from "The Sting." His hands frequently rolled across the keys in pure showman effect. Then he put it into gear with the dark blues standard "Wee Midnight Hours." You could almost hear the old record vinyl scratching sound in his voice.

The response, as usual, was a barroom full of surprised faces.

"People first see me and sort of size me up as something obnoxious," he said. "I love winning them over."

Kolstad was born and raised near the West Bank and Dinkytown areas, where he performs every week. With local blues and jazz vet Papa John Kolstad for a dad, he grew up on old-timey music and has been studying other musicians all his life.

By his 21st birthday, he was playing piano in the local rockabilly/honky-tonk bands Stockcar Named Desire and Lazy Ike & the Daredevils. He also was driving around an old, beat-up, boat-sized Cadillac that gave him his nickname.

Kolstad made the leap and started performing solo full-time last fall, when he got his first happy-hour gig at the Varsity Theater (where he still plays every Thursday). He thought weekly gigs would be a great way to break into the business.

"I look at them like they're my schooling," he said. "They've gotten me in a lot better shape musically and professionally. If you can work these crowds, you can work just about any crowd."

John Kolstad remembers Andrew showing less patience when he first started taking piano lessons around age 7 or 8.

"The instructor would only teach him 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' and that kind of stuff, and Andrew was ready to quit he was so bored with it," his dad recalled. "Finally, the guy agreed to teach him some of the simplest Jerry Lee Lewis and Fats Domino sorts of lines. When he did, it was like Andrew exploded."

If Kolstad hasn't exactly exploded onto the scene, he has certainly accomplished a lot in a year's time. He made his "A Prairie Home Companion" debut and was a semifinalist in the International Blues Challenge in Memphis last month. He also added weekly happy-hour gigs at the Dinkytowner (Wednesdays) and the Nomad (Fridays) on top of late-night Friday sessions at the Loring Pasta Bar (his favorite, he says).

You're never sure what you'll get at Kolstad's regular slots. He might go from a way-old boogie-woogie blues by Roosevelt Sykes or Washboard Sam to a Ray Charles or Jerry Lee Lewis favorite to recent hits like Afroman's "Because I Got High" or Cake's "Stickshifts and Safetybelts."

If there's a common thread, it's that the songs tend to skew toward bawdy, seedy and oftentimes druggy themes. One tune he almost always plays, for instance, is "Reefer Song," which dates to 1928.

"People think all the good songs about drugs came out in the '60s, but those are all about bad trips and the dangers of drugs," Kolstad said in a tone as serious as a music professor. "Before the war, the drug songs were a lot more open and happy."

Kolstad got an insider's view on drug-challenged rock stars as a gopher/runner for local concert companies for several years. On one excursion, he said, he was sent to find 10 bottles of nitrous for the members of Korn. On another, he chauffeured David Crosby, who flew off the handle when he pulled off the door handle of Kolstad's old Cadillac.

"He was just mad it wasn't a limo like the old days," Andrew said.

Some people just don't appreciate vintage stuff.