Gunns Blazing

I’m led to believe the career of the Buffalo rapper Westside Gunn has an elaborate backstory.  The details don’t particularly interest me.  I only care about the enormous pleasure I derive from his hilarious 2020 albums Flygod Is an Awesome God 2 and Pray for Paris.  The ridiculous recordings scratch an itch the similarly playful but unapologetically infantile raps of hitmakers like Roddy Ricch and Lil Uzi Vert don’t reach.  In addition to doing an even better Ghostface Killah impression than Action Bronson, Westside Gunn relies on dusty soul and jazz samples evoking the glory days of Gang Starr and Ultramagnetic MC’s.  Yet the genuine sense of menace place Flygod Is an Awesome God 2 and Pray for Paris squarely in the here and now.


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Opera update: Tchaikovsky’s “Eugene Onegin” is the 111th opera I watched in the past 111 days.  I was disappointed to learn it’s not about the Pacific Northwest.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Expense Ratios

I’m a value investor.  I relish taking advantage of market anomalies in stocks as well as in goods ranging from albums to airline tickets.  Operating as an adaptable music obsessive in Kansas City means it’s impossible to uncover attractive deals on admission to concerts by stars like Lil Uzi Vert, but bargains abound for ostensibly highbrow performances.

The highlight of my stingy concertgoing career may always be nabbing a deeply-discounted front-row ticket to a 2012 Philip Glass concert for $30.  Even so, I’m inordinately pleased to have spent a measly $20 (plus a $4 dollar service fee) to see the jazz giant Bill Frisell last week.  (My review at Plastic Sax).

I’ve also been living high on the hog due to market aberrations for chamber music at the Folly Theater.  Spending $35 on a front-row seat for a concert by the revered chamber orchestra Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin allowed me to live like a Prussian monarch for two hours on February 21.  I pondered palace intrigue while basking in the rarified sound of unamplified period instruments.

The wondrous experience compelled me to buy another $35 front-row ticket for a concert by the Pavel Haas Quartet featuring pianist Boris Giltburg on March 6.  As the embedded photo of the string quartet’s Veronika Jarůšková and Giltburg indicates, I was so close to the action that I couldn’t capture the entire ensemble in a single frame.  As much as I’ll always love “XO Tour Lif3”,  the chamber music concert transformed me in a way an Uzi performance can not.  Watching Giltberg wrestle with Rachmaninoff’s “Études-tableaux”- (more or less exactly like this)- from a distance of ten feet allowed me to finally grasp the appeal of the composer’s work.

The jazz inflections in a contemporary piece by Ľubica Čekovská reminded me of Anthony Davis (this AD) compositions while the ensemble’s vital take on String Quartet No. 9 in C major made it seem as if Beethoven should be celebrating his 50th rather than his 250th.  Even though I didn’t enjoy a 45-piece Dvorak nearly as much, I walked out of the Folly Theater a changed man.  Eternal Atake resonated differently on my drive home.

I’ve saved the best for last.  I lamented the necessity of passing on Daniil Trifonov’s March 12 concert.  Tickets were far too rich for my blood.  But less than five minutes after receiving an email notification from the presenter offering remaining seats at a eighty-percent discount, I owned a fourth-row center ticket to hear the one of the most celebrated pianists in the world for a price of just $20.50.  I trust Uzi admires my investment acumen.


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I make weekly concert recommendations for The Kansas City Star.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Concert Review: Rich the Factor, the Popper and Don Juan at 7th Heaven

“I’m KC!”  I don’t wear Kansas City-branded t-shirts and I’ve never used a #kcpride hashtag.  Yet as the Popper performed his latest anthem about Kansas City in a parking lot on Troost Avenue on Labor Day, I realized that I may be Kansas City’s truest music enthusiast.  Not only did I begin documenting my longstanding devotion to the sound that made the town famous at Plastic Sax in 2007, I have concurrently chronicled the rap scene that’s produced the only other hometown sound to make a significant global impression during that span.

In the four-and-a-half hours I spent at the free outdoor event sponsored by 7th Heaven, Rich the Factor, the Popper and Don Juan were among the prominent artists who expressed appreciation for their longstanding partnership with the scrappy retailer.  Bucking music industry trends, CDs are sold alongside the apparel lines of Kansas City rap heavyweights at the store.

As I wrote in a 2016 album review, Rich the Factor is “a veritable legend on the streets of the city’s urban core.” He affirmed his status during an auspicious headlining performance.  Don Juan performed “I Am the Street” after boasting that “I started that Tech N9ne sh*t” and reminding onlookers of his affiliation with the late Mac Dre.  Rush Borda, Chauncey Clyde and the teen duo Candii Gyrlz were among the other notable acts at the makeshift rooftop stage that validated my obsessive dedication to the most essential Kansas City music.

I posted video snippets of sets by Rich the Factor, Don Juan and The Popper to my Instagram account.  I also documented 7th Heaven’s Taste of Troost party in 2009.


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I named the forthcoming Gorillaz show at the Sprint Center my concert of the month for The Kansas City Star and Ink magazine.

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The Project H is KCUR’s Band of the Week.  My on-air segment will appear online in this space.

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I write weekly concert previews for The Kansas City Star.

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I recount my experience at the Charlie Parker Jazz Festival in Tompkins Square Park at Plastic Sax.

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I hope the reports that the Kansas City musician Ben Juneau has died are incorrect.

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Walter Becker of Steely Dan has died.

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Holger Czukay of Can has died.

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I opted to attend Noise Fest at Davey’s rather than the Kansas City Irish Fest at Crown Center last weekend.  Most of the acts I saw at the shambolic event sponsored by Leavenworth’s Big Pharma Records were merely uninspired dudes who manipulated feedback and static.  Only Pussyvision’s riveting freakout redeemed my break with tradition.

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A$AP Mob’s Cozy Tapes Vol. 2: Too Cozy is rude, childish and without any redeeming social value.  Needless to say, I'm all about it.  Here’s “Perry Aye”.

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The members of Algiers and I clearly like a lot of the same records.  It’s odd, consequently, that I can’t get into The Underside of Power.  RIYL Solomon Burke, futuristic gospel, Elvis Presley.  Here’s the title track.

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Eric Revis’ astounding Sing Me Some Cry is RIYL Ken Vandermark, temerity, David Ware.

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While it’s not exactly complex, Lil Uzi Vert’s Luv Is Rage 2 is shockingly multidimensional.  Color me (very) impressed.  Here’s ”How To Talk”.

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New Order’s Power, Corruption and Lies turned my world around in 1983.  Even with its overt tributes to Suicide and David Bowie, I hear LCD Soundsystem’s American Dream as a heartfelt homage to the seminal release.

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If Tyler, The Creator is really as miserable as he sounds on Flower Boy, he’s likely going to be utterly despondent when he's 50.  RIYL: cranks, Earl Sweatshirt, misanthropes.  Here’s ”Who Dat Boy”.

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I can’t be sure that I’ve listened to Ozuna’s ridiculously slight Odisea.  His reggaeton is the wispiest music I’ve heard.  Here’s “Una Flor”.

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I don’t loathe Portico Quartet’s Art in the Age of Automation because the ensemble has shifted away from jazz.  I simply can’t stand the sound of soulless ringtones.

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P.O.S’s verses on Shredders’ ”Flipping Cars” are stupendous.

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The gratuitous volume employed by Mogwai at a Matador Records showcase at SXSW in 2001 came just shy of making my ears literally bleed.  I was unable to flee because I was working the show.  I’ve held a grudge against the Scottish band ever since.  Even so, I’ve fallen hard for Every Country’s Sun.

(Original image of Rich the Factor by There Stands the Glass.)

Concert Review: Marilyn Maye at Quality Hill Playhouse

If the going rate for a psychologist is $100 an hour, the seemingly exorbitant price of admission to see Marilyn Maye at Quality Hill Playhouse last weekend was a relative bargain. 

I spent $90 on two tickets to hear a 75-minute show by the dynamic 88-year-old cabaret star partly to demonstrate to my life partner that I intended to grow old with her.  Maye complied with my agenda with a set that emphasized putting a brave face on our imminent mortality.

Rather than emphasizing the line “you better chase all your cares away,” Maye’s doleful rendition of “Get Happy,” warned that the members of the near-capacity audience of about 125 should “get ready for the judgement day.”  Tears streamed down my face during Maye’s interpretation of "If He Walked Into My Life," a heartbreaking song of regret that I’d never heard from a musical I’ve never seen (“Mame”).

Maye’s stunning performance reminded me that I’d better get busy living.


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I reviewed Lil Uzi Vert’s concert at the Uptown Theater.

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I reviewed a concert by Aida Cuevas and Mariachi Reyna de Los Angeles at Yardley Hall.

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I discussed Emmaline Twist on KCUR last week.

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I wrote an extended preview of a Car Seat Headrest show for The Kansas City Star and Ink magazine.

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

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Bob Cranshaw has died.

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Kay Starr has died.  (Tip via BGO.)

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Bap Kennedy has died.

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I’ve worked my way through the first three-and-a-half hours of the six-hour Otis Redding document Live At The Whisky A Go Go: The Complete Recordings.  Otis and the band are (obviously) great, but the brutally repetitive sets, Otis’ awkward stage patter and the Whiskey’s atrocious emcee make it a slog.

(Original images by There Stands the Glass.)