I've been holding out. One of my favorite albums of 2010 hasn't been mentioned at There Stands the Glass until now. It's not that I'm embarrassed about adoring an album that I imagine is mostly loved by women. I've been reluctant to write about Love and Its Opposite because the uncomfortable intimacy of Tracey Thorn's new project hits too close to home.
The events described in "Oh, the Divorces!" play out around me every day. ""Now there's kids to tell and legal bills and custody," Thorn sighs. Bad times. Very rarely has popular music so artfully addressed the inmost side of adolescent angst as on "Long White Dress". And the almost unbearably painful "Singles Bar" accurately portrays the wretched behavior of several of my acquaintances.
None of this would really resonate with me if it wasn't for the exquisite ache in Thorn's voice. I believe every word she sings. And while many of the acoustic-based songs are complemented by an electronic shimmer, the heavy thump of Thorn hits like "Missing" from her tenure with Everything But the Girl are absent.
I admire the It Gets Better project aimed at gay teens. Yet Love and Its Opposite serves as a reminder that for many straight people in their forties, things only get worse.
--- Das EFX, I've discovered, helps me overcome Tracey Thorn-induced melancholy.
--- Mac Lethal humiliates Dirtbag Dan in this compelling battle. (The action starts around the 3:20 mark.)
--- Gospel and R&B vocalist James Phelps died October 26.
--- I wholeheartedly embrace the aesthetic of new jazz site The Revivalist.
--- Kansas City Click: More than one person I know intends to "Drink the Night Away" at Gaelic Storm's concert Thursday at the Uptown Theater.
Paul Geremia picks and grins Friday at BB's Lawnside Bar-B-Q.
Tech N9ne's tour with E-40 concludes Saturday at the Uptown Theater.
New Riddim cover The Slackers at the Record Bar on Sunday.
I'm forever indebted to Gregory Isaacs. During my tenure in fetid dorm rooms and scruffy bachelor pads, Isaacs' distinctive whine regularly served as a bridge between the sexes.
As a lifelong music geek, the music played at my social functions was even more important than the drinks I served. I had other guys make liquor runs so I could obsess over playlists. The challenge was finding the proper balance of music that both guys and gals could appreciate.
My male friends and I typically wanted testosterone-fueled noise. Left to our own devices, we'd happily listen to nothing but George Clinton, the Clash, Husker Du, Iron Maiden and Ornette Coleman. The young women we knew, however, weren't down with that nonsense. They preferred the likes of Atlantic Starr, Journey, Lionel Richie and Luther Vandross. No offense, ladies, but guys just don't want to hear that stuff on a party night.
Simultaneously sweet and tough, the Cool Ruler regularly came to the rescue. After "Night Nurse" hit in 1982, it seemed like everybody I knew was into Isaacs. His brilliant "Slave Master" provided a perfect transition between Mutabaruka and Run-D.M.C. on a mixtape. "No Speech", my favorite Isaacs song, fit in nicely between Prince and the Talking Heads.
Without Gregory, those wild nights would have had far lonelier results. I have no doubt that his music will continue to serve a similar function around the globe.
Isaacs died yesterday.
--- Show of the year? Maybe. Here's my review of Janelle Monae and Of Montreal at Liberty Hall.
--- Here's a promotional video for Ron Ron's next project. (Link via Demencha.)
--- Kansas City Click: Everette DeVan's weekly gig at the Phoenix resumes on Tuesday.
James Christos performs on the Riot Room's patio on Wednesday.
In the liner notes to the new Love Potion No. 6, Mac Lethal makes an unflinching assessment of his career as a recording artist.
"The original 11:11 sessions is the only project I would ever consider a finely tuned, handcrafted Mac Lethal album," he confesses.
I concur. I've dedicated countless hours to Mac's recordings and I've written about him extensively. His potential for greatness is immediately apparent, but his recordings, by and large, fail to match his talent. Many of Mac's problems are self-inflicted. He's too smart by half.
"I'm Bo Jackson on these rappers," he blurts on Love Potion No. 6's "The Gas Station." "If it's hip, I break it."
Perhaps not since Paul Westerberg has a gifted artist so willfully sabotaged his own career. Mac promises that his forthcoming album, Irish Goodbye, will be different.
"Irish Goodbye is the true realization of who I am as a human," he writes. "(A)nd where I would like to take my music from here on out."
But what if he's wrong? What if Irish Goodbye isn't very good? I'd never suggest that Mac's genuine love of hip hop led to a poor career choice, but I have contingency plans in mind just in case this rap thing doesn't work out.
High school or college English professor- He'd be the popular teacher who employs Method Man lyrics as metaphors. Political windbag- As a commentator, Mac would be the anti-Bill O'Reilly. Or maybe he'd be more like Bill Maher, only funny. Bartender- Sure, it's an obvious suggestion. That's the point.
--- Stik Figa and D/Will have a nice new video for "Whutupwidit" (Link via Wayward Blog.)
--- My notes about an impromptu performance by Pearl Thuston-Brown are at Plastic Sax.
--- Kansas City Click: I hope to attend the block party on the street in front of the Mutual Musicians Foundation on Friday. Details are here. (Facebook login required.)
I ran into Tim Finn at Frank Turner's show at Crosstown Station on Monday. As he writes in his synopsis of the night, Finn had just covered a disappointing Kid Cudi concert.
I'd spent the early portion of the evening at the Blue Room where Bobby Watson had overseen the public debut performance of The Gates BBQ Suite. That momentous event was followed by an impromptu appearance by eighty-something Pearl Thuston-Brown. Given that context, it's not surprising that Tim appreciated Turner more than me.
Maybe I still had my jazz ears on. Or perhaps my expectations were just too high. Turner name-checked the Hold Steady and Kansas City's Architects in his introduction to "I Still Believe". Frankly, Turner and his band aren't as dynamic as either act. I also cherish my memories of performances by other British pub rockers including Dave Edmunds, Nick Lowe, Ian McLagan and Wreckless Eric. Turner was good, but not quite that good.
It's also possible that I'm just a crank. "Live Fast, Die Old" (turn your volume way down) is an admirable motto, but it's one that's exceedingly difficult for me to live up to while standing in a Kansas City tavern after midnight on a Monday.
--- How is it that I'd never heard of Sly, Slick & Wicked until a couple days ago?
--- Kansas City Click: Green Corn Revival, a fine Oklahoma band featured at There Stands the Glass last month, perform Wednesday at Knuckleheads.
Foxy Shazam and Free Energy team up Thursday at the Record Bar.
(Original image of Frank Turner by There Stands the Glass.)
I was among the 900 people who attended the free recital by violin prodigy Chloe Hanslip and pianist Ashley Wass Friday at the Folly Theater. My friend Robert Folsom wrote a proper review of the Harriman-Jewell series concert, so I'll just note a few incidental details.
A significant portion of the audience had children in tow. Little girls took to the elegant venue and challenging music like ducks to water. Many of the boys, perhaps inevitably, fidgeted and whined.
The ambient noise during the opening piece, a Beethoven sonata, seemed deafening. Candy wrapper crinkling, chair squeaking and the frustrated shushing of parents threatened to drown out the duo. And as it would throughout the concert, inappropriate applause between movements further muddled the proceedings.
I contributed to the unwelcome din by laughing out loud when a toddler began wailing during Szymanowski's "3 Myths for Violin and Piano (Op. 30)." The kid's reaction was understandable. It's a frightening piece. A quarter of the audience didn't return after intermission. They missed a genuinely thrilling rendition of Saint-Saens' "Sonata No. 1 for Violin and Piano in D minor (Op. 75)."
The duo performed "Summertime" as an encore. (Download the MP3 from the university's Twitter feed here. It's delightful.)
--- Among my circle of jazz friends, I'm the sole person who doesn't openly despise Wynton Marsalis. I really like what I hear at the 3:50 mark of the EPK for his new album.
--- Saxophonist Marion Brown has died. Here's Peter Hum's remembrance.
--- Google took down another There Stands the Glass post this morning. The July entry mentioned the popular rapper with a duck-ish name. That's all it takes- I haven't posted an MP3 at this site in over six months.
--- Kansas City Click: Kirsten Paludan plays an early show Tuesday at The Record Bar.
(Original image of the post-concert discussion with Hanslip and Wass by There Stands the Glass.)
I figured last night's concert by Sufjan Stevens would be pretentious. It was. I expected his adoring audience to blindly accept each of his precious whims. They did. I knew that I wouldn't hear any rock, thrash, swing or funk. I was right.
And yet... I loved it. Heaven help me.
The cinematic chamber-folk rendered by Stevens and his nine-piece band brought the antiquated sounds of the circus to mind. That's a good thing. Any lingering cynicism I harbored was completely overwhelmed during the gleefully absurd 25-minute song cycle "Impossible Soul."
"Boy," Stevens repeatedly sang, "We can do much more together."
I guess so.
--- Here's Joel Francis' review of Stevens. Elke Mermis' thoughts are here.
--- Eyedea, of Rhymesayers-affiliated act Eyedea & Abilities, has died. (Tip via S.)
--- I was apparently so consumed by the news of the death of Solomon Burke that I overlooked the passing of Joan Sutherland last week.
--- Kansas City Click: Early Man's gig at The Riot Room is the loudest of the live music options I'm considering Monday.
I've always been more interested in what's happening tomorrow than in what went down yesterday. Yet sometimes revisiting the past is the best way to move forward. I suspect that the members of True Womanhood feel the same way.
The Washington D.C.-based trio have plundered the best bits of Echo & the Bunnymen's Ocean Rain, New Order's Power, Corruption & Lies and Sonic Youth's Evol. The band reassembled the disparate parts of these indie rock masterpieces with the masterful blueprints devised by Fugazi and Radiohead. The dreamlike gloom of the yet-to-be released album Ghost Modern is completely enthralling.
True Womanhood is in the thick of the imminent CMJ hullabaloo. Here's its schedule. Grab the blog-approved new track "Dream Cargoes" from Environmental Aesthetics. The band's Basement Membranes EP may be purchased here.
Burl Ives on acid. That was my first thought when I heard "Carol of the Bells" on Crazy For Christmas, the new holiday album by Dan Hicks and the Hot Licks.
Longtime fans of Hicks' unholy combination of Mose Allison, Django Reinhardt and Frank Zappa already know what to expect. Hicks applies his brand of hillbilly jazz to a mix of standards and originals. He couldn't resist stabs at "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" and "Run Run Rudolph." "Santa Gotta Choo Choo" is a rewrite of "Choo Choo Ch'Boogie." The most rewarding material, however, are new songs including "I've Got Christmas By the Tail" and "Santa's Workshop." "C'mon boys," Hicks croons on the chorus of the latter song. "Gotta make about a million toys!"
The album is so good that I've actually enjoyed listening to it in October. It's made me speculate about why Hicks hasn't found a Tom Waits-style following among younger indie rockers. I suppose Hicks' irrepressible glee doesn't resonate with that set. It's their loss. Live footage from 1972 encapsulates Hicks' exquisitely wry sensibility.
I don't anticipate hearing Crazy For Christmas while grocery shopping this December, but it's easily the equal of similarly weird Christmas albums by Bob Dylan and Leon Redbone. At the There Stands the Glass compound, Crazy For Christmas has caused the holiday season to start two months early.
--- I can't help but think of Ron Rooks, the late proprietor of the Music Exchange, as I listen to Dan Hicks. Ron sure could be a pain, but I miss him.
Solomon Burke died Sunday. My evolving relationship to Burke's output mirrors my lifelong pursuit of music.
I was disappointed after I purchased a compilation of Burke's hits for Atlantic Records as a curious teenager. I was just beginning to explore American roots music. The polished background vocals and syrupy arrangements on songs like "Just Out of Reach" and "I Really Don't Want To Know" appalled me. As a clueless kid, I was only capable of appreciating Burke's raw R&B material like ""Home In Your Heart." The mixed bag of pop and soul just didn't meet my narrow demand for testosterone-fueled rave-ups. I filed Burke- figuratively and literally- far behind rougher men like Sam & Dave, James Carr, Bo Diddley and Johnny "Guitar" Watson.
Only after I reluctantly rescued a sealed copy of an obscure Burke album from a cutout bin a few years later was my interest in Burke renewed. (I praised it in this space last year.) That voice! That passion! That soul!
I was already mildly obsessed with Burke when he began recording for Black Top. Through my connection to that record label, I was able to catch Burke's shows in various cities in the early '90s. Those were extraordinary times. His Black Top albums were fine, but the Joe Henry-produced Don't Give Up On Me in 2002 revealed an even more profound dimension to the man's music. And as an adult, I could finally relate to the content of contemporary Burke albums. I found that to be an extraordinary turn of events.
I'm still more than capable of getting teenage-style kicks from early Burke hits like "The Price," but it's Burke's rendition of the tragic "It Makes No Difference" that's bringing tears to my eyes as I write these words.
Thanks for everything, Solomon.
--- My review of Saturday's Rhythm & Ribs festival is posted at Plastic Sax. The highlights? Nicholas Payton and Lalah Hathaway.
I learned a long time ago that I should make myself comfortable when I spot Bobby Watson entering a jazz venue.
I was headed for the door of GiGi's Jazz Inn last night when Watson walked in. I'd spent the previous 45 minutes hearing six of his UMKC students conduct a loose jam session. I was feeling guilty about my plan to abandon GiGi's for Louis Hayes' gig at The Blue Room. Outside of GiGi's remarkably enthusiastic staff, I was the sole member of the audience. I loved what I'd heard.
A couple of the kids are already great. All are promising. Their rough patches were actually ingratiating. When someone called out "Moanin'", for instance, a student confessed that he didn't know the tune. Another kid kept insisting on structured arrangements. "I don't like jam sessions," he muttered.
Watson's presence put an immediate end to these shenanigans. Additional musicians and a handful of patrons of Watson's jazz program at UMKC had followed the saxophonist to the club at 3226 Troost.
Boys became men as they soloed. Playing spot-the-influence became easier. Hey- that guy listens to Robert Glasper! That kid's quoting Wayne Shorter! Watching Watson interact with his students was also fascinating. He listens intently and regularly pulls kids aside to offer animated counsel. And thankfully, Watson isn't shy about stepping onto the stage to show his apprentices how it's done.
It was a great night. I don't even regret missing Hayes.
Want to know when this event happens again? Me too. Aside from a Facebook account where someone usually posts the day's events, Gigi's doesn't have any web presence. It drives me nuts. Last night I implored club owner Gene Garland to create a calendar. After he suggested that he doesn't have a budget for such indulgences, I encouraged him to look into Google's free calendar template. It's so easy that any idiot can do it.
--- Darkness On the Edge of Town remains a big deal for me, so yes, I'm geeking out over The Promise.
--- Couldn't be weirder. Jackyl and DMC shot a video in Kansas City. (Tip via Tony's Kansas City.)
--- Sit Down, Man, the latest free mixtape from Das Racist, is hellaciously good.
--- Kansas City Click: Oh My God perform Friday at Crosstown Station. Here's my interview with Ig.
Joan Baez charmed me last night. Here's my review. Even though she still seems slightly uncomfortable on stage, she has a lot to offer beyond her innate beauty and talent. Baez, 69, is armed with a fifty- year-old recording career, a handful of pop hits and the mystique of a genuine music legend.
By all accounts, 68-year-old Paul McCartney floored the audience at Sprint Center a few months ago. While I missed that show, I've seen plenty of other old-timers perform this year. They include Clark Terry, 89, Ray Price, 84, Randy Weston, 84, Marilyn Maye, 82, Bobby Bland, 80, Dave Frishberg, 77, Ahmad Alaadeen, 76 (since deceased), Allen Toussaint, 72, Billy Joe Shaver, 71, Levon Helm, 70, Bob Dylan, 69, and Bobby Rush, 69.
Not every one of those concerts was great, but older performers have a lot going for them. The music-loving public is understandably conservative with their time and money. Buying a ticket to see Jackson Browne or Stevie Wonder can seem like a safer bet than splurging on younger, less established artists.
How can ambitious youthful acts possibly compete? I'd encourage them to consider following these simple guidelines. I'll them the Four P's.
1. Be punctual- Old artists are rarely late. They don't keep their fans waiting. Baez stepped onto the stage last night exactly five minutes after the scheduled start time. So who are you to test the patience of your fans?
2. Be polite. Old artists know who foots the bill. Money from fans has paid for their mortgages and the educations of their children. They're invariably grateful. Baez introduced the audience to her personal assistant last night. She also told endearing anecdotes about her accompanist Dirk Powell. These compliments didn't cost her a dime but they probably meant just as much as a bonus in their pay. Follow Baez's lead- praise the audience, their city and the venue.
3. Be professional. Old folks know how to work a crowd. Proper staging, pacing, flow and audience interaction is an art form. Learn it. Baez changed the instrumentation and mood with every song last night. One more thing- try not be a jerk to music bloggers and journalists.
4. Be powerful. Old folks are, well, old. They can't jump around, execute flips, dive off the stage or do shots with fans. Baez required assistance while kicking her shoes off last night. Exploit this advantage. Get sweaty. Get dirty. You may not have a platinum greatest hits album, but it's inexcusable to allow old men like Little Richard and Paul McCartney to show more energy than you.
Good luck. I'm looking forward to attending your highly-anticipated comeback tour in 2030.
--- I didn't realize that B Double E's "My City" was an actual crossover hit until I witnessed a group of Lookin' Bro's rapping along with it outside Kauffman Stadium last weekend.
While I'm accustomed to frequenting unlikely places to satisfy an obsession with live music, my experience Sunday might be the most unusual I'll have in 2010. At the urging of a There Stands the Glass reader, I heard guitarist Nick Charles perform at a Leawood chocolate shop on Sunday afternoon.
It sounded much like this, only with background noise from a cappuccino machine and innocuous chatter from women and girls snacking on chocolate fondue. Of the two dozen people in the room, half were there specifically for Charles.
The Australian was charming. Just fourteen hours after seeing Alice In Chains, however, I wasn't in a proper frame of mind to fully appreciate Charles' precise but heartfelt country blues. I left after forty minutes.
--- Alice In Chains stunned me Saturday night. I had no idea the band was so powerful at this late date. Deftones and Mastodon were also on the bill. Here's my review.
--- I investigate the new album by Kansas City jazz act Killer Strayhorn at Plastic Sax.
--- Kansas City Click: Millie Edwards sings at The Phoenix on Monday.
Matt Otto performs at noon Tuesday at Johnson County Community College.
The current tour of Chicago-based band Oh My God brings them to Kansas City's Crosstown Station on Friday, October 8. There Stands the Glass conducted an email interview with keyboardist Ig.
There Stands the Glass: I mean this as a compliment- I can't get a handle on Oh My God. Your stylistic range is enormous. How do you describe your music? Ig: It's like a mix tape (or in modern parlance, a playlist or dare I say "party shuffle") born of the immensely different musical backgrounds of Billy and me.
He was rocking out to Van Halen, REO Speedwagon, Boston and Black Sabbath, while I was diving into Minutemen, Husker Du, Wire, Television and Kraftwerk. We did meet at Rush and AC/DC, though.
In any case, we never decided to be a particular kind of band, oh my god just evolved from the songwriting clashes he and I had. Piano ballads like "February 14" have had to co-exist with garage stompers like "The Uptown Lumber"; we are unable to zero in on one sound, style, genre, etc. That's been vexing for our record labels and would-be labels, and yet we persist.
TSTG: Several of your songs sound for all the world like hits. Are you frustrated that your music isn't heard alongside Lady Gaga, Maroon 5 and Katy Perry on radio and music television? Ig: We wish more people heard us and knew us, yes. We agree: how is it possible that "February 14 isn't a standard by now? And our most recent album overflows with hooks, but there's always that oh my god-ness that makes it just a bit too risky for the pure-pop powers-that-be, perhaps. Also, we're not all that pretty. What the hell do I know? I just work here, as they say.
TSTG: Your videos for "Bring Yourself" and "My Own Adventure" are astoundingly brilliant. What percentage of your promotional budget is invested in them? Ig: Sheesh, I don't know. Thank you, though. "Bring Yourself" was cheap, 'cause Dan (Bigelow)'s a fan and worked hundreds of hours basically at minimum wage--only for us would he do such a thing! He is the man.
"My Own Adventure" cost more, but still was a "friends and family" rate by all those MTV guys we know, who happen to be oh my god fans and friends of Tila Tequila. So they called in lots of favors and got an amazing crew together to do the video on a whirlwind NYC day.
I plan on spending the rest of the promotional budget on cookie-dough ice cream for me and only me.
TSTG: You're playing at Crosstown Station in Kansas City on October 8. Los Lobos, Widespread Panic, Dave Douglas, James McMurtry and Eric Johnson also perform in town that night. If Oh My God wasn't working, which show would you choose to attend? Ig: Los Lobos. They are such dauntingly great musicians, I bet it would be highly inspiring.
TSTG: Will this be your first visit to Kansas City? What should fans expect of your show? Ig: Heck, no...it's probably our 15th visit to The City of Jiggling Souls (I just coined that nickname for KC right now).
We've played The Hurricane, Davey's Uptown, The Record Bar, The Brick and a few other places the last eight years or so. We always love the energy and people of KC (though some fucker stole Billy's wallet out of his jacket pocket one night during our set).
The People of the City of Jiggling Souls should expect enthusiasm, heart, laughter, tears, theater and spittle. Really, though, we have a history of memorable nights in KC. I'm deeply fond of many or our recordings, but our live show is where the excitement lies. Ask anyone (who matters).
TSTG: I propose that you cover the Usher hit "OMG". Does that make me a genius or an idiot? Ig: We used to play a show-intro file we created with a mash-up of various "oh my god"-mentioning songs (Tribe Called Quest and Pavement were part of it...I can't remember who else). If we were still doing that, we'd likely add that one...as for your suggestion, it makes you a fine specimen of human being.
Guitarist Nick Charles picks Saturday at Mike Kelly's Westsider and Sunday at Amore Chocolate Pizza in Leawood. (Tip via loyal There Stands the Glass reader Phil.)
