Look How Wrong You Can Be: Rod Stewart at the Sprint Center

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.)

Album Review: Elza Soares- Deus É Mulher

I’ve long posited that Miles Davis had a more extreme evolution over the course of a career than any other musician.  Maybe I’ve been wrong.  Elza Soares went from this in 1965 to this in 2017.  The Brazilian octogenarian’s abrasive new samba album Deus É Mulher (God Is Woman) resembles an experimental Bill Laswell production.  Even though I can’t pretend to understand even half of the social, political and artistic implications of Soares’ transformation, I’m awed by her audacious fearlessness.  Here’s the punk-infused “Dentro de Cada Um”.


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Lazy Lester has died.  I documented a 2008 performance by the blues man.

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Ed King of Lynyrd Skynyrd has died.

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Ed “Mr. Bongo” Costanzo has died.  (Tip via BGO.)

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I love every element of Erykah Badu’s Tiny Desk Concert.

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I understand the appeal of being one of Nicki Minaj’s minions.  Unfortunately, I can’t bring myself to sign up.  While fascinating, Queen is wildly inconsistent.  That said, all 47 minutes of Sweetener, the blissful pop album by Minaj’s pal Ariana Grande, are delicious.

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Thee Oh Sees have a full metal freakout on the hilariously gonzo Smote Reverser.  RIYL: Atomic Rooster, acid rock, Spooky Tooth.  The joke wears thin halfway through the hour-long album.  Here’s “Anthemic Aggressor”

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Slug and Ant on a train!  Atmosphere’s “Virgo” may be corny, but I remain all-in on my generational and regional peers in Atmosphere.

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I’m a sucker for metallic novelties.  Trappist recently issued an entire album of thrash songs about beer.  Ancient Brewing Tactics opens with the video-of-the-year candidate “No Soldiers Left Behind”.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Concert Review: Atmosphere and Evidence at VooDoo

Evidence affirmed the hip-hop hierarchy of the evening during the first song he performed at VooDoo on Saturday by noting that “I’m Rhymesayers' number three under Slug and Ali.”  Slug is half of the headlining act Atmosphere.  Brother Ali is his supremely talented stablemate at Rhymesayers, the Minneapolis record label that has issued more than a dozen classic hip-hop albums since its formation in 1995.

Evidence, a member of the California hip-hop group Dilated Peoples that’s best known for the 2004 song “This Way”, was riveting in a 45-minute opening set.  He has enough bars to supply an expansion of the penitentiary in Leavenworth.  An unrecorded list of tips for less polished performers that included drinking room temperature water, not allowing your crew to join you on stage and the proper way to stage dive (a feat he perfectly executed) provided one of the evening’s most memorable moments.  Most of the audience of about 1,000- a crowd that Slug characterized as “a bunch of dirty, stinky, white people”- didn’t know what to make of Evidence and only responded enthusiastically to his weed references.

Slug, Ant and Plain Ole Bill performed songs about suicide, self-loathing, domestic violence and hangovers for 90 minutes.  Slug was his usual outrageous self.  He claimed that “the only thing I like to do more than masturbate is bust rhymes and freestyle” and suggested that there “ain’t nothin’ like a broken bottle to the face to put put a (batterer of women) on the right path.”  I felt “sick and contradictive” as I joined communal rap-alongs to “GodLovesUgly,” “Guarantees” and “Trying To Find a Balance,” harrowing songs that redefined the scope and meaning of Midwestern hip-hop.

Atmosphere’s sound hasn’t changed much since the release of its 1997 debut album Overcast.  Once cutting-edge, Ant’s soul-soaked production and Slug’s confessional lyrics are now part of hip-hop’s rearguard.  XXXTentacion, the rapper who is expected to have the top album in the country this week, is 25 years younger than Slug.  The controversial upstart rejects everything about hip-hop that Atmosphere fans hold dear.

The sudden realization that the once-subversive Atmosphere and Evidence had somehow become old-school traditionalists devastated me.  I'd inadvertently paid $35 to attend an oldies concert.  When Slug asked “who’s your favorite rapper” during a duet with Evidence on “Powder Cocaine” in the encore, I was too rattled to respond.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Desiccated

Do I look tired to you?   I feel compelled to leave a few notes in this space before I embark on a recuperative respite south of the border.


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I reviewed a concert by Dan + Shay for The Kansas City Star on Friday.

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I attended concerts by Bill Frisell and Jack DeJohnette on Saturday.  My impressions are published at Plastic Sax.

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I reviewed Quality Hill Playhouse’s production of “As Time Goes By” on Sunday.

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Look for new rounds of my weekly music previews for The Kansas City Star and Ink magazine here.

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Hyborian’s Vol. 1 is my favorite Kansas City metal album in recent memory.

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Spoek Mathambo’s Mzansi Beat Code is allegedly only 58 minutes long.  I don’t believe it.  Brimming with hundreds of fresh ideas, the project feels as if it lasts several hours. Albums don’t often stump me, but I’m overwhelmed by Mzansi Beat Code.

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I don’t appreciate Joey Bada$$’s insurrectionary Land of the Free nearly as much as a few of my pals.  RIYL: Noam Chomsky, A$AP Rocky, Amy Goodman.

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I’ve been waiting for pianist Christian Sands to make an album as solid as Reach.  RIYL: Christian McBride, promise realized, Gerald Clayton.

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Rhymesayers uploaded footage of a 2007 Atmosphere concert at First Avenue.  Here’s  ”God Loves Ugly”.  As longtime readers of There Stands the Glass know, I can’t get enough of that stuff.

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Damn gets better with each listen.  If you’re not already on board, the video for ”DNA” is a good entry point.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: Noah Preminger- Meditations On Freedom

Noah Preminger is tilting at windmills.  Few artistic statements are more quixotic in 2017 than jazz protest albums.  Twitter rather than tonality is the order of the day.  Yet even if the New York based saxophonist fails to engage the new president in a war of words on social media, he’s made jazz great again with his sixth album Meditations On Freedom.  The project is slated for digital release on Friday, January 20, to coincide with the presidential inauguration.  Trumpeter Jason Palmer, bassist Kim Cass and drummer Ian Froman join the saxophonist on instrumental interpretations of familiar material including Bruce Hornsby’s “The Way It Is” and striking original compositions like “The 99 Percent.”  Performed in the liberating free jazz style associated with Ornette Coleman’s classic quartet, the appropriately named Meditations On Freedom is terrific, tremendous and very, very strong.


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I wrote a nasty review of a desultory concert by Lloyd and J. Holiday.

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I reviewed Ramsey Lewis’ concert at the Gem Theater.

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I reviewed Echoes of Europe, the new album by the Dino Massa Kansas City Quintet, for KCUR.

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I chastised a misguided Kansas City artist at Plastic Sax.

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I wrote an extended preview about Atmosphere’s return to the Granada.

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

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I discussed Blackbird Revue on KCUR this week.

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Posted here, for the first time anywhere- my response to the contemporaneous teen albums meme:

1. The Clash- London Calling
2. Michael Jackson- Off the Wall
3. Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson- Waylon & Willie
4. Bob Marley- Survival
5. Prince- 1999
6. Ramones- Ramones
7. Bruce Springsteen- Darkness on the Edge of Town
8. Talking Heads- Fear of Music
9. Hank Williams, Jr.- Whiskey Bent and Hell Bound
10. Stevie Wonder- Songs in the Key of Life

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Buddy Greco has died.  I thought about goofing on the late lounge lizard, but I genuinely like this ish.

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Tommy Allsup has died.

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Greg Trooper has died.

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William Onyeabor has died.

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Yukmouth’s JJ Based On a Vill Story is an unexpected triumph. RIYL: The Game, Oakland gangsta rap, E-40.  ”Thank You Lord” may be the album’s worst song.

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Systema Solar’s Rumbo A Tierra is a party-starter.  RIYL: Bomba Estéreo, a sense of surprise, Julieta Venegas.

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The XX’s I See You is an adorable homage to 1980s synth-pop artists like Alison Moyet and the Human League.

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I’m glad for my friends who are excited about Radiohead’s return to Kansas City on April 5.  An even more promising performance of forward-thinking sounds will take place at the Folly Theater on April 7.  The quartet of Donny McCaslin, Jason Lindner, Tim Lefebvre and Mark Guiliana act as convincing jazz ambassadors in a recent Tiny Desk Concert.

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Bonobo updates smooth jazz on the impressive Migration.  RIYL: Bob James, hot tubs, John Klemmer.

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Sepultura’s Machine Messiah isn’t just another perfunctory genre exercise.  RIYL: Pantera, rage, Kreator.

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Who needs the parody act Steel Panther when Grave Digger is still producing unironic gems like ”Healed By Metal”?

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: Tech N9ne- Strangeulation

The embedded video for the cypher version of the title track of Strangeulation encapsulates everything that's both great and awful about Tech N9ne's empire.  The undisputed Kansas City King is capable of sending shivers down my spine with his brilliance on one track and triggering my gag reflex with his lusty predilections on the next song.  Just like the varied quality of his collaborators on this cypher, Strangeulation is a real mixed bag.


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I reviewed a concert by John Scofield's Organic Trio on Saturday.

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I  occasionally make music selections for KCUR's Up To Date program.  Kantorei of Kansas City's "Fantasy on La Bamba" aired Friday.

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Largely because XTA-C gets a shout-out in U-Neek's "Kansas City", I'm giving the song a pass.  (Via Tony's Kansas City.)

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Trumpeter Joe Wilder has died.

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Triptykon's Melana Chasmata is exquisite art-metal.  RIYL: Tool, H. R. Giger, Nine Inch Nails.

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I'm certainly not a member of the jazz police, but Badbadnotgood remain underwhelming on III.  RIYL: good ideas on paper, OFWGKTA, hype.

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The curatorial choices made on Road Shows, Volume 3, Sonny Rollins' latest live album, are very interesting.

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Naná Vasconcelos chatted with Gilles Peterson.

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Steel Panther's All You Can Eat isn't nearly as good as the parodists' previous albums, but it still has plenty of hilarious moments.

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God loves mediocre.  Even though I'm predisposed to love Atmosphere, I recognize that Southsiders is just ok. RIYL: Eyedea, the Twin Cities, Mac Lethal.

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I wish I liked Marrill Garbus' music as much as I like her.  I can take or leave most of Tune-Yards' Nikki Nack.  RIYL: David Byrne, playgrounds, St. Vincent.

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Ramshackle Serenade, a new effort by the trio of Peter Bernstein, Larry Goldings and Bill Stewart, is RIYL: Grant Green, overlooked excellence, Shirley Scott.

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Not only did I listen to the entirety of Skrillex's new album, I truly liked it.  Recess is RIYL: frat parties, DJ Kool's "Let Me Clear My Throat," red solo cups.

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Blueprint's Respect the Architect is the best backpack rap album I've heard this year.  Even so, it's at the bottom of my Best Albums of 2014 playlist.  RIYL: Brother Ali, corny sincerity, Aesop Rock.

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Tech N9ne will perform at the Gathering of the Juggalos 2014.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Surface Noise at Ink's Middle of the Map Fest

I don't share the musical sensibilities of the organizers of Ink's Middle of the Map Fest.  That doesn't mean that I couldn't find plenty to enjoy last weekend.  I caught at least two sets at each of the event's six stages in the 17 hours I logged at the festival.  All of my favorite performances, however, took place at the Riot Room.  Here's the top five:

• Wolf Eyes- searing noise
• Reggie and the Full Effect- a glorious mess
• Bummer- Olathe grunge
• Shabazz Palaces- interstellar hip-hop
• Josh Berwanger Band- Kansas power-pop

Some of my commentary is incorporated into reports here and here.


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Your Friend's session for KJHK at the KU Natural History Museum is impressive. 

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I ponder Mike Dillon's Band of Outsiders at Plastic Sax.

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Wayne Henderson of the Jazz Crusaders has died.

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Atmosphere's "Kanye West" is a bit disappointing.

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The European piano trio Phronesis is doing interesting things.

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Dave Koz's rendition of the "Game of Thrones" theme has gone viral.

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B.B. King's performances continue to deteriorate.

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Kansas City Click: My official picks are published here.

(Original image of James Dewees by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: King Carnage- Ounce of Mercy, Pound of Flesh

A lot of people think I’m kidding when I profess my affection for black metal.  The truth is that I pretty much love everything.  I have a special affinity, however, for the extreme sounds associated with black metal.  The bludgeoning provided by Ounce of Mercy, Pound of Flesh, the new album by the obsure King Carnage, hurts so good.  This is precisely the sort of unforgiving malevolence that adds a necessary balance to my spiritual and earthly existence. 


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Little Willie Littlefield, the man who behind the original version of “Kansas City,” has died.  One of the great controversies in popular music centers on the provenance of the song.  Did Littlefield write it, as he maintained, or do Leiber and Stoller deserve the official credit they've been given? 

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Here’s a video for Schwervon!’s “Cyclone.”

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The video for Despistaos’ ”Kansas City” is the visual equivalent of a love letter to the town.  (Via Tony’s Kansas City.)

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Atmosphere’s excellent new song ”Bob Seger” isn’t really about the Detroit rocker.

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Euclid Records' new arrivals videos never fail to mesmerize me. 

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I’ve been involuntarily exposed to a terrestrial classic rock station for several hours a day for the past week.  The twenty year period beginning in 1965 is reduced to a 500-song playlist.  What a travesty.

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Kansas City Click: My official picks are published here.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)