Sunday, May 07, 2017
I went to Mexico with the intention of rejuvenating my mind and resting my ears. It didn’t work out. I spent my evenings at a beach festival that showcased the folkloric music and dance styles of Latin America. I caught dozens of amazing performances by ensembles from Chile, Argentina, Guatemala, Costa Rica and various Mexican states while sipping on dollar beers. The rest of the music I heard was involuntarily imposed on me. The hits that blasted in almost every public space drove me to distraction. I must have heard Luis Fonsi’s “Despacito,” Juan Gabriel’s “Queiro,” the Eagles’ “Hotel California,” Bruno Mars’ “Uptown Funk” and Toto’s “Africa” a dozen times apiece. Por qué?
I spent the last three nights at Ink’s Middle of the Map Fest. I reviewed a concert by De La Soul, Talib Kweli, Ro Ransom, Stik Figa and the Indyground crew on Saturday. I admired Jason Isbell and Strand of Oaks on Friday. I critiqued Erica Joy, the Uncouth, 34 and Jaenki on Thursday.
I examined the 1975 in a preview of the band’s concert at Starlight Theatre.
I praised Ibérica, the beguiling new album by Matt Otto and Ensemble Ibérica, at Plastic Sax.
I write weekly music previews for The Kansas City Star and Ink magazine.
(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)