Fun House

There’s a scene in a post-apocalyptic movie in which a solitary survivor watches a film of a rock concert in an abandoned theater.  The document of carefree hedonism makes his stark reality seem even bleaker.  That’s how I feel when I listen to Live at Goose Lake: August 8, 1970  The recently released lo-fi document of an infamous set by the Stooges at a Michigan rock festival may as well emanate from a different universe.  

The correlation between the fictional end of the world and today’s pandemic is all-too obvious.  As in the movie, the prospect of another massive music festival seems remote.  But it's not just the coronavirus.  The idea of 200,000 people congregating to hear bands with guitars play rock and roll is ludicrous.  That’s probably never going to happen again in North America.

The Stooges’ outmoded style is made even more obsolete by the honking of Steve Mackay’s saxophone.  The unconventional instrumentation makes Iggy Pop’s berserk interjections even funnier.  The backstory of the essential- albeit superannuated- release on Third Man Records is fascinating.

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I review Brian Scarborough’s fine new album Sunflower Song at Plastic Sax.

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Opera update: I’m up to 143 operas in 142 days.  Danielle de Niese’s breakout performance in Glyndebourne’s 2005 production of Handel’s “Giulio Cesare” provided four of the most entertaining hours of my quarantine.  The free stream is available for three more days.  And all self-respecting Kansas Citians- as well as history-minded feminists- should want to see the Metropolitan Museum of Art's imaginative staging of Virgil Thomson’s “The Mother of Us All."

(Horrifying original image of Detroit Rock City by There Stands the Glass.)

Who Knows Where the Time Goes?

I’m home alone for the first time in thirty years.  The members of my brood aren’t going to burst through the front door at any moment and my wife is exploring a distant island.  I feel jarringly isolated no matter how high I crank the volume on the latest albums by Brockhampton, Rapsody and Taylor Swift.

That’s why the new release from Shannon Lay hit me like a ton of bricks.  I intended to give August just a cursory listen, but bleak songs like “Death Up Close” and “Nowhere” directly address my newfound solitude.

Lay is best known for her affiliations with Ty Segall and Kevin Morby, but August is superior to anything I’ve heard by either indie-rock mainstay.  Of the multitude of recordings by the Nick Drake and Sandy Denny facsimiles currently clamoring for attention, only Bill MacKay’s Fountain Fire and Lay’s August are worthy distractions from blockbusters like Ginger, Eve and Lover.


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I commend the Kansas City jazz musician Brian Scarborough at Plastic Sax.

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Miniature reviews of the aforementioned albums: Taylor Swift remains intensely unlikeable on Lover, but her craftsmanship is impeccable.  The sound field on Rapsody’s Eve is atrocious. I demand a remix.  Brockhampton’s Ginger is a glorious mess.  Sad songs (say so much).

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I knew Carl Jefferson.  I can say with complete confidence that he’d be horrified by most of the music currently released by the straight-ahead jazz record label he founded.  That said, you can’t argue with success.  The absurdly revisionist The History of Concord Jazz video feature is worth a look.

(Original image of Iceland by the life partner of There Stands the Glass.)

He Was a Friend of Mine

You don’t want to be my friend.

Four of my closest high school pals are dead.  I haven't spoken to a few others in years.  Maybe that’s why I reacted so poorly when a former classmate I’ve loved since the day we met in 1979 dropped a disheartening bomb on me during a break at last week’s appearance by Adam Lambert at the Silverstein Eye Centers Arena.

While I discussed the merits of Pentatonix with his child, my friend casually mentioned that it was the first live music event he’d attended since he accompanied me to a 2001 show by Prince at Municipal Auditorium.

I responded by inviting the girl to move into my home to escape her unsound living conditions.  What’s worse- my failure to insist that my friend join me at any given show during the past 14 years or his inability to maintain a balanced life?

Then again, maybe the joke’s on me.  While I’ve spent much of my adult life listening to loud music in dark rooms, my friend has become a successful attorney and a prominent community leader.

What have I done?


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I reviewed a concert by Adam Lambert and Pentatonix.

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I played songs by Samantha Fish, Eddie Moore and the Outer Circle, Chris Hazelton’s Boogaloo 7, Kendrick Lamar, Rudresh Mahanthappa and Lila Downs during my appearance on KCUR’s Up To Date last week.  Here’s the podcast.

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I write weekly music previews for The Kansas City Star and Ink magazine.

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I contribute weekly Local Listen segments to KCUR.

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I took notes at a performance by the Brian Scarborough Quintet at the Westport CoffeeHouse.

(Original image of Lemony Snicket at the Plaza Library by There Stands the Glass.)