It seems ridiculous at this late date, but I once cared about Rod Stewart so much that I held a grudge against the star. Even though I was a punk enthusiast in the late ‘70s, I still loved early Stewart albums like Every Picture Tells a Story. I took his artistic change of direction exemplified by "Da Ya Think I'm Sexy?" as a personal affront. I stopped caring about Stewart altogether twenty years ago.
My date and I regretted our impulsive purchase of $32 tickets as we drove to the Sprint Center last Tuesday, but Stewart immediately won us over. Whether he was belting out classics like “Maggie May” or dodgy material like “Infatuation,” the preposterous antics of the unabashed ham were charming. I didn’t hesitate to enthusiastically sing along to "Da Ya Think I'm Sexy?"
An older woman seated in front of us googled “Rod Stewart age” in an oversize font on her undimmed phone. Her curiosity was understandable. The lusty vigor displayed by Stewart, 73, is genuinely sexy. I smiled the entire show. Had he been able to see into the future, my 18-year-old self would have been mortified. I never liked that kid much anyway.
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I opted to post my review of Erykah Badu’s memorable concert at the Sprint Center at Plastic Sax.
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I write weekly concert previews for The Kansas City Star.
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Pilfered from my Twitter account: Joe Strummer lives! After raving about the combat rock of 6666 in a blog post on Tuesday, I paid $17 to catch Four Fists at the Riot Room last night. I felt as if I was listening to the Clash’s Sandinista! for the first time. The footage I posted to Instagram amuses me.
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I’m looking forward to an imminent beach vacation. Quebra Cabeça, the fourth album by the Brazilian Afro-funk band Bixiga 70, will likely provide the core of the sunny but slightly sinister soundtrack to my downtime. Here’s the title track.
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Not every selection on Atmosphere’s Mi Vida Local hits home, but Slug’s musings on subjects like parenting and Ant’s discerning beats reveal a promising path forward for aging hip-hop artists. RIYL: feeling Minnesota, Jay-Z’s 4:44, middle age.
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Open Mike Eagle’s What Happens When I Try To Relax is scathing standup comedy set to astonishing music. RIYL: Shabazz Palaces, punchlines, Dave Chappelle.
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Ubiquitous’s new four-song EP has several good moments. Here’s “What If?”.
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I’ve never understood why jazz artists continue to allow producers and engineers to intentionally make their albums sound as if they were recorded in 1956. The rich sound field of Aaron Parks' Little Big demonstrates the virtues of embracing the fact that it’s 2018. RIYL: Pat Metheny Group, volume, Brad Mehldau Trio.
(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)
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