Showing posts with label Rhye. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rhye. Show all posts

Sunday, February 11, 2018

Review: Black Panther: The Album


I don't patronize movie theaters.  Staring at a screen in a dark room doesn’t appeal to me, partially because there’s an endless supply of live and recorded music I could be processing instead.  I may never see Black Panther, but I’ve had the soundtrack on repeat all weekend.  It’s the Kendrick Lamar album I hadn’t expected.  Not only does he dominate the mixtape-like soundtrack, K. Dot sounds like he’s having fun.  Unlike his mercenary turns with Taylor Swift and Maroon 5, Lamar seems entirely at home on the pop-laced project.  The first single is my least favorite song.  The tracks with hip-hop royalty including Ab-Soul, Jay Rock, Future, Vince Staples, Schoolboy Q and 2 Chainz are instant classics.  Lamar does, in fact, “live on ten.”


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I wrote and narrated a five-minute feature about the Kansas City jazz musician Stan Kessler for KCUR.

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I write weekly concert previews for The Kansas City Star.

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I highlighted Julia Othmer in my weekly Band of the Week segment for KCUR.

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I lauded a momentous concert by Ryan Keberle & Catharsis at Plastic Sax.

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Composer Jóhann Jóhannsson has died.  It’s a tremendous loss.  I documented my passion for his music at There Stands the Glass in 2012 and 2016.

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Dennis Edwards of the Temptations has died.  I’ve always adored his solo hit “Don’t Look Any Further”.

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Cabaret vocalist Wesla Whitfield has died.

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Hip-hop pioneer Lovebug Starski has died.

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I haven’t been truly enthused about a new Tech N9ne release in a few years.  The initial singles “Bad Juju” and “Don’t Nobody Want One” indicate that his next album will focus on the elements that once made him exceptional.

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There’s nothing worse than contrived jazz poetry.  Affected jive voices make me cringe.  Backed by the all-star band of saxophone titan David Murray, pianist Orrin Evans, bassist Jaribu Shahid and drummer Nasheet Waits, the spoken word artist Saul Williams sidesteps the pitfalls of the form on the vital Blues for Memo.

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Sports journalists often speak of narrow defeats as good losses.  That’s how I feel about Bigyuki’s latest synthesis of jazz, R&B and electronic music.   Reaching for Chiron is RIYL Thundercat, moral victories, Bilal.  Here’s “Eclipse”.

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FaltyDL’s galvanizing Three Rooms transports me to a terrifying place.  RIYL: rubber rooms, dancing as bombs drop, straightjackets.

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Just as I can’t listen to Mount Eerie’s devastating A Crow Looked At Me, I can’t handle the raw pain documented on Mary Gauthier’s Rifles and Rosary Beads.  Here’s “Bullet Holes in the Sky”.  RIYL: depression, Dave Van Ronk, PTSD.

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The James Hunter Six’s Whatever It Takes is RIYL Jackie Wilson, all vintage everything, Amy Winehouse.  Here’s “I Don’t Wanna Be Without You”.

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Wanna make out?  I have the perfect soundtrack cued up.  Blood, the seductive new album by Rhye, is the best Sade album since 1988’s Stronger Than Pride.  Here’s “Count To Five”.

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Mopo is a wild-eyed Finnish jazz trio.  Mopocalypse is RIYL Moon Hooch, dancing, Galactic.  Here’s "Tökkö".

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The more I listen to H.C. McEntire’s Lionheart, the less I like it.  RIYL Emmylou Harris, melancholy, Kacey Musgraves.  Here’s “Quartz in the Valley”.

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The good stuff on Lonnie Smith’s All In My Mind is capable of inducing altered states.  Alas, it’s not all good.  RIYL: Dr. John, organ jazz, Pharoah Sanders.

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God bless John Prine.

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Julian Lage’s Modern Lore is a loopy surprise.  RIYL: Chet Atkins, smiling, Les Paul.  Here’s “Roger the Dodger”.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Friday, March 08, 2013

Review: Ashley Monroe- Like a Rose


Oh, hell yes!  Ashley Monroe's new Like a Rose offers evidence that the Nashville establishment remains capable of producing proper traditional country albums.  Like a Rose is precisely the kind of honky tonk album that I'd been hoping Miranda Lambert, Monroe's bandmate in the Pistol Annies, would record.

Dozens of alt-country albums are issued every year.  I enjoy a lot of them.  Yet there's something about a slick major label production that adds a satisfying luster to the old-school sound that labels like Bloodshot just can't duplicate.  Like a Rose successfully filters the drinkin' and cheatin' songs of Gary Stewart through Fleetwood Mac's Rumours.  The title of "You Ain't Dolly (And You Ain't Porter)," the album-ending duet with Blake Shelton, reveals the era that inspired the project's rough-hewn sensibility.

Monroe's heroines keep it real.  One is "a dollar short and two weeks late."  Another has painful morning-after regrets.  A third begs her man to spice up their sex life.  "She's Driving Me Out of Your Mind" is an old-fashioned weeper.  "Used", the most conventional track, possesses the low-key angst associated with Alison Krauss.  The title track is one of the few positive songs.

Fans of Gary Allan, Shelby Lynne, the Mavericks, Dwight Yoakam and Randy Travis are encouraged to board this train. 



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I'd forgotten how much I loved Paid In Full until I heard Rakim perform much of the seminal album Wednesday.  Here's my review.

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Jazz organist Melvin Rhyne has died.

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I've spent much of my adult life embarrassing myself by confusing Alvin Lee with Albert Lee.  Alvin Lee died this week.

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Tiny Horse has a video for its acclaimed song "Ride".

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Ces Cru is on fire.

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Olassa performed on a local television program.

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Is it nostalgia, brain damage or good taste that causes me to adore the new self-titled album by Dallas' Mothership?  RIYL: Black Sabbath, Goblin Cock, Judas Priest.

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The video for DJ Muggs' "Soundclash Business" is amusing.  My glowing review of his album is here.

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The video for bentcousin's "bent paperboy" is appropriately charming.  My review of the British duo's debut album is here.

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"For Those Who Love the Lizz"!  Gypsyhawk is my new favorite thing.

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Between Krokus' Dirty Dynamite and a live album by Rhino Bucket, 2013 is already a banner year for aficionados of AC/DC knockoffs.  (I'm one of them.)

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I listened to the entirety of Rhye's Woman.  It's smooove.  RIYL: Sade, Seal, George Michael.

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Antonio Sanchez's New Life sounds like the best jazz album of 1994.  It came out this week.  Hey, I loved 1994.  RIYL: Michael Brecker, Steps Ahead, Tony Williams.

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The trailer for a documentary titled The Power of Soul contains a couple tantalizing moments.

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I love all readers of There Stands the Glass.  (Not really, but it's a nice thought.)  Even so, BGO's recent comment is one of the best in the history of this blog: I'd go see J.P. Harris if I had a designated driver and I didn't have to get up early the next day. Listening to him is a real throwback and the sincerity seems authentic. Who shows up for the likes of him anyways? Hipsters? Bumpkins? Old men like me? Dime-a-dance dames in fancy dresses?  Thanks, as always, BGO.

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Kansas City Click: My top picks are published here.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)