Album Review: Childish Gambino- 3.15.20

I was among the millions of Prince fans who rushed to record stores on Tuesdays to buy the nine albums he released in the 1980s.  Alternately hedonistic and apocalyptic, the communal soundtrack was admirably adventurous and challenging.

Childish Gambino’s 3.15.20 is a splendid evocation of that era.  While the musician born Donald Glover isn’t as innovative as Prince, his ingratiating references to the vintage sounds of Cameo, George Clinton, Marvin Gaye, Sly and the Family Stone and Prince are balanced by astute allusions to Frank Ocean and Kanye West.

3.15.20 is an invigorating reminder that not everything is awful.  Arriving nine days after Jay Electronica’s essential A Written Testimony, 3.15.20 is the second classic album of the coronavirus era.


---
I yakked about Kansas City artists including Deborah Brown, Julia Lee, Marilyn Maye and Mary Lou Williams on an episode of 90.9 The Bridge’s Eight One Sixty.

---
I reviewed Eldar Djangirov’s Rhapsodize at Plastic Sax.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Concert Review: Take Me to the River at the Folly Theater

A concert starring the veteran soul and blues men William Bell, Charlie Musselwhite and Bobby Rush was undercut by tedious speechifying and a galling parade of lesser talent at the Folly Theater on Friday.

Apparently intended as an old-school soul revue with an educational component, Take Me to the River was a well-intentioned but woefully misguided presentation that often resembled a patronizing infomercial designed to appeal to PBS viewers who favor Celtic dance specials.  For dedicated roots music aficionados, the show was excruciatingly frustrating.

Despite the presence of organist Charles Hodges and bassist Leroy Hodges- members of the storied Hi Records rhythm section- the first 45 minutes of the show were forgettable.  The Memphis rapper Al Kapone was the only featured entertainer in the opening segment who wasn’t appallingly mediocre.

Each of the three stars was allotted about 15 to 20 minutes.  Even without the dancers that help make his lascivious concerts memorable, Rush, 83, was an astounding force of nature.  Musselwhite affirmed that he’s the greatest living blues harp player.  Bell- the reason I bought $35 rear balcony tickets to the show (I’d never seen him)- looked and sounded half his 78 years.  His set included “I Forgot to Be Your Lover,” but not “Born Under a Bad Sign” or “Private Number.”

Organizers probably hoped that members of the audience of about 700 rushed home to watch the Take Me to the River documentary on Netflix.  That’s the last thing I’ll do after enduring the poorly conceived and extremely disappointing show.  Instead, I’ll begin making plans to catch a proper performance by Bell in 2018.


---
I reviewed Marilyn Maye’s return to Quality Hill Playhouse on Sunday.

---
Honestly isn’t the album I wanted or expected from Lalah Hathaway.  The glitchy beats and her astounding voice make for an odd pairing, but I suspect I’ll come to embrace the surprising sound.  RIYL: Robert Glasper, legacies, Kelela.  The politically charged video for the title track doesn’t make much sense.

---
Enjoying Sam Smith’s The Thrill of It All is a lot like tearing up during sentimental television commercials.  I confess to committing both transgressions in recent days.  RIYL: Dusty Springfield, pablum, Adele.  Here’s ”Pray”.

---
I didn’t expect to appreciate Fever Ray’s Plunge, but the album is even more preposterously affected than I anticipated.  RIYL: nails on chalkboards, Björk knockoffs, playing yourself.  Here’s “Mustn’t Hurry”.

---
Vincent Herring’s Hard Times is the all-too-rare jazz album that’s capable of connecting with listeners who embrace both Cannonball Adderley and Donny Hathaway.  I’d love to catch this band- saxophonist Herring, pianist Cyrus Chestnut, bassist Yasushi Nakamura and drummer Carl Allen- playing these songs in a crowded club on a Saturday night.

---
In theory, Mostly Other People Do the Killing is one of my favorite bands.  The reality is far different.  Loafer’s Hollow, the brainy ensemble’s latest effort, is an attempt to bring avant-garde concepts to trad jazz.  It should be thrilling.  Instead, it’s merely irritating.

---
Guitarist Rez Abassi is joined by saxophonist Rudresh Mahanthappa, pianist Vijay Iyer,  bassist Johannes Weidenmueller and drummer Dan Weiss on Unfiltered Universe.  RIYL: John McLaughlin, geniuses, Weather Report.

(Original image 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.


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

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

---
I discussed Emmaline Twist on KCUR last week.

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

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

---
Bob Cranshaw has died.

---
Kay Starr has died.  (Tip via BGO.)

---
Bap Kennedy has died.

---
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.)