Combat Rock: Joe Strummer and Four Fists

Strummer 001, a recently released two-hour compilation of Joe Strummer rarities, confirms what I’d already knew.  The man who died in 2002 did his best work with the Clash.  Even so, hearing Strummer working out new ideas before and after his contributions to the seminal band is fascinating.  I hadn’t heard half of the 32 punk, folk, pub-rock and reggae tracks on Strummer 001.  The previously unissued selections make it clear that Strummer was striving to become a modern-day Woody Guthrie.  He succeeded.

Four Fists’ 6666, a collaboration between underground hip-hop luminaries P.O.S and Astronautalis, is a de facto tribute to Strummer.  Not only is the sixth selection titled “Joe Strummr,” the opening track “Nobody’s Biz” references the Clash’s “White Riot.”  The snippet of a Strummer interview that opens “Unjinxed” highlights Four Fists’ embrace of Strummer’s mandate to create protest music.

With the exception of the title track of Four Fist’s album and a version of Strummer’s garage-band classic “Keys To Your Heart,” all of 6666 is better than anything on 001.  The vitality of Four Fists’ fusion of rap, rock and electronic music honors Strummer’s legacy.  The only thing P.O.S and Astronautalis get wrong is their lament that “Joe Strummer has been dead for too damn long.”  Strummer lives in 6666.


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I reviewed Ed Sheeran’s concert at Arrowhead Stadium.

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My most recent concert previews for The Kansas City Star are here and here.

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I reviewed performances by the Vijay Iyer Sextet at the Gem Theater and Ramsey Lewis and Urban Knights at the Folly Theater for Plastic Sax.

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Jazz saxophonist Hamiet Bluiett has died.

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The opera star Montserrat Caballé has died.

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The experimental musician Takehisa Kosugi has died.

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Angela Maria has died.  My fellow music obsessives will appreciate this documentary about the Brazilian star.

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Ambrose Akinmusire’s Origami Harvest has replaced Kanye West as the subject of the most heated music-related altercations I'm having with my family and friends.  Not everyone shares my enthusiasm for the probable album-of-the-year.

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Zinc City is a fever dream in which saxophonist David Binney and pianist Manuel Engel give free reign to their most psychotic impulses.  RIYL: Karl Stockhausen, nightmares, John Cage.

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The avant-garde bluegrass of Nathan Bowles’ Plainly Mistaken occasionally sounds like a mashup of Earl Scruggs and Philip Glass.

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Spider Bags’ scuzzy Someday Everything Will Be Fine is my kind of rock and roll album.  RIYL: Tav Falco, stage-diving into the abyss, Deer Tick.  Here’s “Oxcart Blues”.

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Lovely or fussy?  Artful genius or pretentious twaddle?  Past his prime or a lion in winter?  I won’t argue with either set of assessments of Paul Simon’s In the Blue Light. 

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Donny McCaslin’s concert at the Folly Theater in 2017 was transcendent because the saxophonist’s trio played jazz with the energy, volume and showmanship of a rock band.  McCaslin loses the plot on Blow, a rock album that resembles a forgettable solo venture by a David Bowie sideman.  RIYL: Adrian Belew, miscalculations, Reeves Gabrels.

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Prodded by a pal, I reluctantly listened to the Midnight’s Kids, a nostalgic love letter to mid-’80s suburban America in which synth-pop and video games were ascendent.  RIYL: Howard Jones, synth-wave, Yazoo.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Different Strokes and Indifferent Folks

I spent three nights working at the Folk Alliance conference last week.  (My summaries are here, here and here.)  While I admired a lot of what I heard- showcases by Bill Miller, Gaelynn Lea, Barbara Dane, Elle Márjá Eira and Wink Burcham were magnificent- I felt a bit detached.  

A good portion of the attendees had dedicated their lives to folk music.  Not me.  I might have been forcibly ejected from the conference had the true believers around me known that I had listened to the latest release by the rapper Future on the way to the event each night.

During one showcase, I was seated next to a man with no awareness of personal space.  I suspected that his life was transformed by Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and Pete Seeger in the early ‘60s.  He went into ecstatic paroxysms when a performer broke into the protest song “(Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody) Turn Me Around.” 

I was both annoyed and envious.  That was his moment.  What’s mine?  If I love everything, am I deeply attached to nothing?   I often feel like a profligate philanderer who sleeps with a different partner every night and inevitably winds up alone and friendless.


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I reviewed Run the Jewels’s return to the Midland theater.

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I elected to hit the Green Lady Lounge instead of attending the Kansas City Folk Festival on Sunday afternoon.  My notes on Dominique Sanders’ momentous weekend are posted at Plastic Sax.

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Benjamin Netanyahu bumped me off the airwaves last week.  I was slated to yak about the Ozark Mountain Daredevils.

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

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Clyde Stubblefield has died.

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Al Jarreau has died.

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Junie Morrison has died.

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I confess to reading the recent spate of rock-is-dead essays with almost as much relish as the inescapable jazz-is-dead dissertations.  And man, when I hear certain songs on “rock” radio stations, I’m overwhelmed with an urge to break stuff.  Uniform’s Wake in Fright makes me feel better.  Excoriating noise in the vein of Big Black and Jesus Lizard, Uniform’s Wake in Fright is a vicious ghost of rock past.  Here’s ”Tabloid”.

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The New Year's Concert 2017 with Gustavo Dudamel is less than three hours long, but it took me more than a month to work my way through the opus.  Maybe Vienna isn’t for me.

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David Bowie probably made scouting expeditions at New York jazz clubs before selecting Donny McClaslin’s band to create Blackstar.  A group led by David Binney might have been his second choice.  Binney’s fine new album The Time Verses is similarly exploratory. 

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I can’t defend my affection for John Garcia’s The Coyote Who Spoke In Tongues.  It’s a bombastic metal-goes-acoustic jam.  And I love it.  RIYL: Alice In Chains, smoke, Kyuss.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Charlie Haden, 1937-2014

Charlie Haden played a crucial role in molding me into the listener I am today.  Here are just three examples of the many ways in which Haden expanded my appreciation and understanding of music.

As a nascent jazz fan in the pre-internet era, I became aware of the provocatively titled Liberation Music Orchestra.  When I finally got my hands on a copy of the 1969  album, I didn't know what to make of it.  It's not "jazz."  Haden helped me to realize that musical boundaries don't really exist. 

The 1991 album Haunted Heart caused me to reevaluate music I'd written off as pablum.  By incorporating old recordings of Jo Stafford and Jeri Southern into Quartet West's concept album, Haden convinced me to drop my bias against pre-rock pop vocalists.  My subsequent flirtation with music by the likes of Tony Bennett and Rosemary Clooney has yet to cease.

Finally, Haden's gorgeous collaborations with Pat Metheny reminded me of the immense power of austerity.  As a lover of noise and groove, I require quiet works like Beyond the Missouri Sky keep me centered.

Haden died last week.


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I reviewed a concert by Gavin DeGraw, Matt Nathanson and Mary Lambert.

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I featured Jorge Arana Trio's Oso at Plastic Sax.

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Here's my Local Listen segment on Ensemble Ibérica.

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The Mahoots' Girl From Topeka is probably my favorite project by my friend Steve Wilson since No Price On Earth, the classic 1982 album by the Thumbs.  RIYL: Alex Chilton, rock and roll hearts, Guided By Voices.

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Dom Chronicles' video for "Get Focused" was shot at the castle-like structure in the Jazz District.

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Stik Figa made a video for "The Book of Chad".

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Tommy Ramone has died.

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After a career filled with good albums, Jim Lauderdale finally made a great one.  I'm a Song is RIYL: Buck Owens, 1965, George Jones.

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Leela James' Fall For You is solid.  RIYL: Anthony Hamilton, adulthood, Mary J. Blige.

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Should Brian Wilson decide to take a naked romp on a Brazilian beach, Sébastien Tellier's L'Aventura would make an ideal soundtrack for the outing.

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David Binney's Anacapa is a wonderful mainstream jazz album.  RIYL: Pat Metheny, imagination, Wayne Shorter.

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Nick Waterhouse's Holly is RIYL: Hanni El Khatib, Uma Thurman's character in Pulp Fiction, The Blasters.

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The Village Voice's examination of the origins of Bob Marley's Legend is fascinating.

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Bobby Hutcherson's Enjoy the View fails to hold my attention.  RIYL: David Sanborn, Blue Note Records, Joey DeFrancesco.

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The cowboy rides away with a gross of $60 million.  The financials of 2014's top tours are fascinating.

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Cyrus Chestnut's Midnight Melodies is a fine live piano trio album. 

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Good on Metallica.

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Sage Francis is very angry.  Copper Gone is RIYL: Mac Lethal, sour grapes, Aesop Rock.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)