Ah, those pesky fucking border guards. The Russian Futurists were supposed to join Caribou and the Junior Boys here in Minneapolis last night at the squalid shanty, the 400 Bar. Unfortunately, they were prevented from coming over, and have apparently been banned from the States for the foreseeable future for unapparent reasons. Either way, the rest of the gang showed up around 10:30, sweating through their tees and collared shirts. They scrambled on stage and everyone helped put together the two drum kits and various electronic accoutrements. The Junior Boys kicked things off with a shorter set of songs, including fan highlights like “Birthday” and even a new song. It’s always worth the price of admission to see icy bass-heavy dance music throb through a crowd of hipper-than-thous with ice in their skulls. Barely a head bob, nary a dance. Of course, I wasn’t exactly setting the floor a-fire so I’ll throw myself in that heap. Either way, the night really hit its mark when Caribou took the stage. With an electric guitarist and an additional drummer, Snaith and the kids played their spastic patchouli psych through hazy underground images, slapped against a white screen behind them. With the recent record’s more laid-back, groove-territory, it’s easy to forget just what a cacophonous assault Snaith’s music is. Vocals and drums were tracked and then sung over the top at many points, and it must have required every last scrap of Snaith’s energy after the day’s events to hop up from the drum kit, grab his acoustic guitar, and slide into his hazy Donovan-inspired folk at times. Whatever was left upon arrival was in his shirt by the end of the night. Oh. Yes. I should have bought a tee-shirt.