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It was common 10 years ago to see Soul Asylum frontman Dave Pirner walk down the red carpet arm-in-arm with then-girlfriend Winona Ryder. Or see him on the cover of Rolling Stone as the subject of a lengthy profile. Or find him touring in support of a platinum album, namely “Grave Dancers Union” or “Let Your Dim Light Shine.”

It was a “rat race,” he says now. One he was happy to leave behind. And he did, whether he wanted to or not, after the release of the band’s last album, “Candy From a Stranger,” which met critical and commercial indifference upon its 1998 release.

Since then, Pirner has moved to New Orleans, released a solo album and had a child with his girlfriend.

He’s also had a tough go of it in the past year. In June, he lost one of his best friends when Soul Asylum bassist Karl Mueller died after a yearlong battle with throat cancer. And in August, Hurricane Katrina devastated the Gulf region, including Pirner’s adopted hometown.

But he’s pressing on; in March, Soul Asylum will release an album recorded with Mueller before his death. And on New Year’s Eve, Soul Asylum makes a stop in Chicago, with former Replacements bassist Tommy Stinson, who, like Soul Asylum, also came out of the ’80s Minneapolis punk scene.

Metromix caught up with Pirner on the eve of the band’s show.

Where have you been?

[Laughs.] You know, I was just reading this article about a woman who wrote a book that became a best seller. She didn’t write another book for seven or eight years, and her answer to that question was, “I really had to go back and reread all the classics to understand where I came from.” That’s what moving to New Orleans meant to me. I wanted to rediscover where this thing that had evolved–or devolved–into rock music had come from. I wanted to listen to a lot of live jazz music and clear my head from the whole rat race that it had become.

Sounds like you were pretty down on the music biz. Was there a moment where you really lost your faith?

There were a whole series of moments, like finding yourself on a press tour, traveling around Europe just doing press. [Laughs] What? How did we get here? We went on a long opening tour playing with a band we didn’t care for too much. And we also had to remake the last album. All of it made us think, “Why are we doing this?”

Were you in New Orleans when Katrina stuck?

I had come up [to Minneapolis] to do some work with the band, and we were on our way back the day before the storm hit. [My girlfriend] Karen said: “I think I saw something on the weather channel. Maybe we should wait one more day.”

Was your house OK?

Our place did shamefully well. We were extremely lucky. I still have a place in Minneapolis, so we … had a lot of evacuees staying with us.

After Karl’s death, was there a time when you thought the band wouldn’t continue?

Of course, though I don’t think anyone is over the shock yet. I don’t think any of us thought this was going to happen. That wasn’t Karl. We all thought, he’s going to sort this out. He’s put up with anything anyone could ever throw at him. As much as you know it’s a serious situation, we didn’t have any doubts that he wouldn’t pull though. I guess when it became a reality we’d continue was when Karl’s wife endorsed Tommy.

What’s one of your favorite memories of Karl?

There are so many, but the one I told at the funeral is one of my fondest. When the band graduated from sleeping on people’s floors [while on tour] we’d usually have to share a bed, and Karl was my bedmate. At that time Karl had about 60 bracelets on his left arm. We’d be lying there, falling asleep, and I’d hear … his arm coming at me. He’d always wind up putting his arm around me while he was sleeping. It got to be where I’d hear the bracelets coming and I’d move out of the way, and the arm would land next to me. [Laughs.] That memory has always stuck with me.

Soul Asylum

When: 10 p.m. Saturday

Where: House of Blues, Back Porch Stage, 329 N. Dearborn St.

Tickets: $85

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MMCGUIRE@TRIBUNE.COM