Golden Retrievers Rock Out

Minneapolis punk-rock band Heart to Gold brought heart and heat to Crybaby, if only briefly.

· 3 min read
Golden Retrievers Rock Out
AHHHHHHH! You know? | Sarah Bass Photos

Heart to Gold Free Help Tour

Crybaby

1928 Telegraph Ave, Oakland

April 5, 2025

Iiiiiiiii have been suffering for too long…

Heart to Gold’s Grant Whiteoak might be full of difficult feelings, but he’s more than ready to share them with any and all ready to listen.

A fan records on a device I could not identify, Whiteoak sings his heart out.

“Move closer, move closer!” he urged the small but eager crowd at a show in Oakland last week. After launching straight into a high-energy set, Whiteoak wanted to get vulnerable, intimate.

“We were supposed to play across the street”—gesturing at the Fox Theater, with it’s art deco deliciousness and 2,800 person capacity—“but we got too fucked up so they made us play here.” Pause. “Just kidding, we’re straight edge!”

Headlining a four-band lineup Saturday at Crybaby (opened by Bed Bug Guru, Aren’t We  Amphibians, and World’s Worst), Minneapolis-based Heart to Gold shared their latest album, “Free Help," with the mosh-ready attendees. By song two a tiny-but-mighty encirclement of bodies had formed at Whiteoak’s urging, and would resurface several more times during their half-hour-ish set of emotionally dejected but musically upbeat songs. A good bit of grunge, a healthy heaping of soft punk, and some nasally, noodley warbles and bass lines coalesce into an album ready to move to.

Perched directly in front of bassist Jim Kiser’s amp I was poised to get some good shots—and arguably the worst video audio I have ever recorded. I will not torture you with that warped and blown-out version of their sound, but live the driving energy was excellent to consume, from feet up and definitely damaged eardrums down.

Fluctuations in tempo, decibel, and vocal intensity kept the set moving and interesting, with several lulls of more lingering and shoe-gazey moments leading back into hard-hitting yelps and drum kicks (from mostly-hidden-to-me Blake Kuethe).  The three who, according to their Bandcamp “all really like Dogs,” seemed fairly demure when not wailing on their chosen instruments, their collective stage presences ebbing and flowing in sync. Soft hearted sober boys with a passion for thrashin’.

Shortly after 9:30 the band wrapped and the house lights came up — Crybaby had a late night of sexy RnB to wind up for, and these good boys had some beauty rest to run home to.