The fresh coat of white paint doesn’t fool me. I remember what used to be there. I once thought the wall of silver stars was too cheesy for First Ave. But like most things, they grew on me. It became a hunt while waiting for the doors to open to find a new band on the wall. It was our own Minneapolis walk of fame, featuring bands that once graced the stages of First Ave or 7th St Entry. They can paint over the wall, but not my memories. It’s like Prince, when he changed his name to a symbol, and then the Artist Formally Known as Prince, and then back to Prince. He’ll always be Prince in my mind no matter what symbol or color he’s being represented by, just like First Ave will always have a wall of silver stars.
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