March 25, 2022 by A.S. Van Dorston

Underheard but not underrated: Those who heard the debut of one of the best live bands anywhere had their minds melted. Alas, like many great bands after the post-Nirvana label feeding frenzy in the 90s, their albums were neglected and lost in the digital black void.

I usually rank albums based on how much enjoyment I’ve gotten over time with repeated plays, and with that criteria, Walt Mink would top the list. I have to handicap it somewhat only because of the extent of my personal history with them, going to college with them, covering their progress in the school paper starting in 1989, seeing all their shows and wearing out the cassette tapes and 7″ vinyl of their demos and singles. Their talent was far greater than just a college band, however, and they quickly graduated from basement parties to filling clubs in the Twin Cities and the Midwest with word-of-mouth reputation spreading that they’re one of the best live bands around. John Kimbrough came from a hardcore punk background but his guitar heroics revealed an expanded palate (along with their gorgeous cover of Nick Drake’s “Pink Moon,” they occasionally would play Buffalo Springfield’s “Mr. Soul” and Big Star’s “Back of a Car”). Drummer Joey Waronker had an amazing musical upbringing around artists produced by his dad Lenny, and Candice Belanoff grew up loving singer-songwriters and soul. She had some piano background but had just recently taken up bass, and found the spirit of Bootsy flowed through her fingers.

Miss Happiness cherry picks some of the best songs from their 4-track tapes Listen, Little Man (1990) and The Poll Riders Win Again!! (1991), plus a newer song, “Showers Down.” I say some, because it did not include many of their best songs, like “9 O’Clock World,” “Turn of the Religious,” “Fragile,” “Everything Worthwhile” and especially “Disappear.” It turns out that the latter two were actually recorded for the session, but labelmate Smashing Pumpkins’ Billy Corgan for some reason convinced the label to leave those two tracks off. It’s unclear why, and if it was meant as an act of sabotage of a rival, it was pretty pointless. It wasn’t like anyone knew or cared about any potential attention-grabbing feud like the British music weeklies would artificially foster between Blur and Oasis in a couple years. Any similarities between the two bands are purely coincidental. When Gish came out on May 28, 1991, that was the first time John Kimbrough heard them. I came into the Minneapolis cafe where he was working at the time and heard “Bury Me” playing on the soundsystem, and asked him if that was a new Walt Mink track. Oops, no it was not. By that time, Walt Mink had already recorded over two dozen songs, so no one can say they were influenced by the Pumpkins. Both likely shared some influences, not to mention hot shot drummers, and both are excellent guitarists, though Kimbrough is better. I will grant that Corgan is a better lyricist, at least in terms of expressing teen angst which connected with kids in a similar way that Nirvana did, partly thanks to his goth roots, in contrast to Kimbrough’s punk background. Smashing Pumpkins deserved their fame, but god dammit, so did Walt Mink, but they never quite got there.

Walt Mink - Miss Happiness (Caroline, 1992) original CD longbox packaging

Most of the aforementioned songs would be recorded for the next two albums, and while Kimbrough’s songwriting certainly evolved and improved, it’s hard not to favor the excitement and energy of their debut, with the explosive drum rolls on the title track and the sun-dappled “Chowder Town” briefly gracing MTV’s 120 Minutes. The almost boogie rhythm of “Quiet Time,” the sweeping melodies of “Smoothing the Ride,” and the fretboard fireworks of “Croton-Harmon (Local).” “Factory” was a great moody set-closer, but it’s over too soon. The effervescent psych pop of “Twinkle and Shine” was assisted with backing vocals from folk duo Kerith & Ann. It was just begging to be followed by the satisfying crescendo of the swirling celestial guitar squalls of “Turn.” Either way, the album had no dud tracks, and I listened to it constantly on my portable CD player and speakers in my windowless storage room where I toiled away on a database at a law firm. Rather than drive my dungeon-mate Lysa nuts, she became a big fan of the album too. Most people who heard it did, just not enough heard it.

While the Pumpkins were fast-tracked to parent company Virgin and given a relatively massive recording budget, Caroline failed to properly support Walt Mink. Despite the neglect, the power trio signed to Columbia, lost Joey to Beck, were dropped before they even started their third album, recruited drummer Orestes Morfin of Bitch Magnet (I chatted with him at a Bitch Magnet reunion show and he said he loved playing with Walt Mink), signed to Atlantic, experienced more setbacks, and just became one of many 90s bands lost between the cracks, their first three albums sucked into the digital black void. It’ll likely all be in the movie. Yeah, a documentary was started, reunion shows were filmed, but it’s been ongoing for nearly two decades now (you can DO this, Butler!). I also hold out hope that at least the masters can be found and this can be properly reissued someday. Virgin randomly reissued an expanded double disc version of Baby’s Angry (1992) by similarly forgotten British labelmates Revolver in 2009, so anything is possible. Until then, I’ve assembled an expanded playlist based on a typical setlist you’d hear from them around then, minus a couple live favorites that were only on the 4-tracks like “All-Nite Grocery” and their cover of “Free to Be You and Me,” previously on a single.

The original trio have all had great individual successes, with Joey swanning with Beck, R.E.M. and other top tier rock royalty, and John does soundtrack work, for which he won not one, but two Emmys and a British Independent Film nomination for Best Original Score for Jump Tomorrow (2001) starring TV on the Radio’s Tunde Adebimpe, produced Tenacious D.’s Rize of the Phoenix (2012), collaborated on the first couple albums of power pop band Valley Lodge, put together another great band called Teen Judge, and is doing the music with Scott Sever for the amazing cartoon The Great North starring Nick Offerman, Jenny Slate and Will Forte. They need to put out a compilation of the brilliant and hilarious end credits songs.

Candice became a professor, and when the Dr. wants to rock, she’d summon the guys (John and their third and last drummer, Zach Danziger), and they’ve played a handful of times in the subsequent years after their 1997 breakup. I’m not sure if that’ll happen again, but with some bands entering their sixth decade of activity, anything’s possible.