Soul Trouvère releases music video for 'We Dance'

Soul Trouvère has released a music video for its new single called "We Dance." "It's our Minneapolis love song inspired by our friends and neighbors in the face of Metro Surge," remarked Colleen Bertsch. The video footage includes sweeping drone shots of downtown Minneapolis protests.

The lilting waltz tells the story of people from various walks of life coming together to stand up for their neighbors by simply showing up to the dance. The music video, directed by Jason P. Schumacher, highlights drone footage of anti-ICE protests in frozen downtown Minneapolis and street level footage of Alex Pretti’s memorial site in South Minneapolis.

The song was written by Colleen Bertsch and Juan Küffner. It is performed by  Northeast residents Colleen Bertsch (violin, vocals) and Juan Küffner (accordion, vocals); Mikkel Bee (washboard, stomp box), who resides along the border of Lynnhurst and Kenny; and downtown Minneapolis resident Liz Draper (upright bass) who teaches at Music Lab in the Nokomis neighborhood.

MORE FROM BERTSCH ABOUT WHAT INSPIRED THE SONG:

I wrote the music to the Minneapolis love song “We Dance” in the winter of 2024 but attempts at writing lyrics fell flat. Trump had taken office for the second time and began dismantling our government, institutions, and the U.S. Constitution. The bad news was coming in fast and furious, and it made me feel powerless. I wanted to hide, so I was writing lyrics about safe spaces and self-soothing. With Soul Trouvère, some of my favorite safe spaces are local bars like the 331 Club in Northeast, The Dubliner in St. Paul, and Schooner Tavern in South Minneapolis where our audiences dance to our “country and eastern” music. The original “We Dance” chorus revealed my desire to hide from the crumbling world with my small, safe group of friends:

And we dance, yes we dance,


Outside of these walls we don’t stand half a chance


So we dance, yes we dance,


Come hell or high water, we’ll stumble together


And dance

It flowed well and it felt truthful at the time. The verses I was writing, however, didn’t have significant meaning for me. I was continuing the story of isolation, of blocking out what we can’t control:

Don’t worry about traffic, taxes or bills


Don’t worry about getting into heaven or hell . . .

The lines were rhythmically fine, but I didn’t care much about what I was saying. I filed the song away without finishing it.
When Operation Metro Surge descended on the Twin Cities in December of 2025, some of my students disappeared from the classroom. School administrators didn’t tell us what was happening at first, but as teachers, we knew that our families were going into hiding. I started seeing horrific videos on social media of kidnappings and people being tear gassed or forced to the ground and pepper sprayed by undertrained, armed, masked federal agents. In most videos you could hear the eerie cacophony of yelling, car horns, and whistles. The videos didn’t come from trained journalists but neighbors bearing witness with their cell phones.
At some point, a photo of Judson Church’s sign on the corner of W 41st St. and Harriet Ave. came across my socials feed that said:

Blessed Are


The Whistle Blowers


For They Play


The Music of Salvation

As I read that message, the melody of “We Dance” floated back into my mind with a new verse fragment:
With whistles and car horns may your little light shine

I was moved that this other safe space, a place of worship and community, took the opposite view of mine: to act instead of isolating in the face of oppression and uncertainty. And now the lives of my students and their families were at stake.
With this new mindset, the original “We Dance” chorus no longer felt right. Instead of singing

Outside of these walls WE don’t stand half a chance

SO we dance . . .

I started singing

Outside of these walls THEY don’t stand half a chance

WHEN we dance . . .

This is how the meaning of “We Dance” came to life. I didn’t want to self-soothe anymore. I wanted to act with intention. Every protest that I attended, every sign I made, every whistle that I gave to a friend, and every bag of groceries I delivered, was a small step towards taking back the power the federal government stole from us. My Minneapolis neighbors and friends taught me this.
The horrendous murders of Renee Good and Alex Pretti heightened my sense of urgency to call people together who don’t always agree and demand the return of our constitutional rights:

Righties and southpaws, put down your gloves


Be brave and lay down your perspective guns


Dance for Good Justice and for Pretti’s Rights


There’s ICE on our streets tonight

I hope that the song “We Dance” and its video, which has spectacular protest drone footage and street level memorial images, reminds Minnesotans what we learned during Operation Metro Surge: that there is power in showing up to the dance.
The next dance party is at your polling place. Show up and vote. You can add me to your dance card.

Band Links:

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