Album Review: Ex Hex- It's Real

I was a member of the target demographic for the 1980 punksploitation flick “Times Square”.  As a disaffected teen stuck in the boonies and desperate for dispatches from the punk scene in New York City, I enthusiastically acquired the soundtrack and bought a ticket to see the film the week it opened.  This gullible rube was expertly played by a cynical marketing team that made Suzi Quatro’s “Rock Hard” the theme song of the deservedly forgotten movie.  Even though tracks including “Rainbow Shiner” on Ex Hex’s It’s Real are vastly superior to “Rock Hard,” the throwback “new wave” on the album catapults me back to an almost incomprehensibly foreign era.


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

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Nipsey Hussle was gunned down on March 31.  I don’t share the hip-hop community’s adoration of the rapper.  The memory of his dreary outing at the Granada in 2009 still grates on me.

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The Chicago house vocalist Kim English has died.  Here’s “Natural High”.

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David White of Danny and the Juniors, has died.  Here’s “At the Hop”.

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There have been moments during the last 20 years in which I believed that attending Kansas City’s Rockfest was my sole reason to exist.  I don’t know what to do with myself now that this year’s blowout isn’t happening.

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Marvin Gaye's You’re the Man, the would-be follow up to What’s Going On, is only half as good as his classic 1971 work.  But man, there are still a dozen spine-tingling moments scattered throughout the newly reassembled version of the nixed project.

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Billie Eilish’s When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? is the love child of Lorde’s Pure Heroine and Taylor Swift’s Reputation.  Post Malone’s Beerbongs & Bentleys served as the midwife.  “Bury a Friend” is the baby picture the proud parents sold to a celebrity tabloid.

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I paid $14 to hear The Wild Reeds and Valley Queen at RecordBar on Wednesday.  The show was altogether adequate.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Sour Concord Grapes

I’m not one of the three pasty men in the photograph that accompanies a The New York Times report about the latest transmutation of the entity once known as Concord Records.  While I bear a slight resemblance to the executives who oversee the conglomerate, I suppose I lack some of their business acuity.  I certainly had myriad opportunities to get in on the ground floor of the operation.  I regularly interacted with Carl Jefferson, the late founder of Concord Records, as I toiled as a sales rep for independent record labels when his company was strictly devoted to mainstream jazz recordings.  When he wasn’t scolding me about slow payments or the ostensibly light spreads of his latest releases, Jefferson and I had delightful discussions about our mutual admiration of musicians like Ruby Braff.  Even though things have worked out for me, I occasionally regret not striving to become a redoubtable music industry mogul.


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I reviewed the 25th anniversary edition of Rockfest.

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I reviewed Tech N9ne's return to the Midland.

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Future’s concert at the Sprint Center was my show of the week for The Kansas City Star and
Ink magazine.

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I gave Nick Schnebelen my KCUR Band of the Week designation.

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

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I reviewed Hermon Mehari’s solo debut album at Plastic Sax.

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Danny Cox recalled the summer of 1967 for The Kansas City Star.

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Bern Nix has died.

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The remix of Bob Marley & the Wailers' Exodus is disorienting.  Here’s ”Turn Your Lights Down Low”.

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Mad Decent added just the right amount of production sweetening to Omar Souleyman’s music on To Syria, With Love.  Here’s ”Chobi”.

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Cuong Vu’s Ballet is miraculous free-ish jazz.  RIYL: Bill Frisell, four (brilliant) dudes jamming, Dave Douglas.

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Orrin Evans might be my favorite mainstream jazz pianist.  His presence elevates Sean Jones’ Live From at the Bistro.  RIYL: Hermon Mehari, the St. Louis jazz club, Terrel Stafford.

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Rock may be dead, but the members of Greta Van Fleet are expert necromancers.  Black Smoke Rising is RIYL Led Zeppelin IV, gravedigging, Houses of the Holy.  Here’s ”Highway Tune”.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: Lecrae- Church Clothes 3

“I’m hearing screams and they saying we sold out, but I’m hearing screams from the stands ‘cause we souled out.”- Lecrae, “It Is What It Is”

Even in the insular world of Christian music, you’re nobody until you’ve attracted a congregation of haters.  Lecrae sold out a 5,800-capacity arena in his most recent appearance in the Kansas City area.  He addresses his unusual status as an explicitly Christian artist who keeps one foot planted on secular turf on “It Is What It Is,” one of many impressive tracks on his new mixtape Church Clothes 3. 

While much of his early work is corny, Lecrae has become one of hip-hop’s most vital artists during an implausible era in which the world’s most acclaimed rapper explicitly examines his Christian faith in his songs.  Like Kendrick Lamar, Lecrae is troubled by the contradictions that confront him.  A 16-minute promotional video for Church Clothes 3 includes a few of the mixtape's most conflicted moments.

When American churches scuff they Toms on our brother's dead bodies as they march to stop gay marriage... We had issues with Planned Parenthood too, we just cared about black lives outside the wombs just as much as in. -Propaganda, on Lecrae’s “Gangland”


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I reviewed Bach Aria Soloists’ The Adventures of Don Quixote concert for The Kansas City Star.

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I reviewed a concert by Lamb of God, Anthrax, Deafheaven and Power Trip for The Kansas City Star.

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

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I featured Organized Crimes’ excellent “Bel Ray Flats” on KCUR’s Local Listen last week.

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I reviewed a Bukeka Shoals concert at Plastic Sax.

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The Kansas City rapper James Christos has altered his approach.  He recently released Conception as James D. Conqueror.  RIYL: Mos Def, makeovers, A Tribe Called Quest.

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My Rockfest headliner prediction was wrong.  I had expected Five Finger Death Punch, Megadeth or Volbeat to top the bill.  Instead, Disturbed is returning as the headliner.

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Earth, Wind & Fire was second only to Stevie Wonder in sparking my interest in soul when I was a kid.  The brilliant Maurice White has died.

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Dan Hicks has died.

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While King’s creamy We Are King goes down easy, I’d rather listen to my old SWV, DeBarge and TLC albums.  Here’s ”The Greatest”.

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I like Aoife O’Donovan’s In the Magic Hour when it evokes Astral Weeks and Bryter Layter.  Too much of the album, however, resembles safe coffeehouse fare.

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I suspect that my affection for Savages’ Adore Life is rooted in nostalgia.  RIYL: Gang of Four, college rock radio circa 1987, Sonic Youth.

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Tord Gustavsen freaks me out.  The EPK for the latest album by the vampire-like pianist is spooky.

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Susan Tedeschi has surpassed her hero.  I’ve heard almost every Bonnie Raitt album.  None is better than the Tedeschi Trucks Band’s Let Me Get By.  The two TTB concerts I’ve attended have also impressed me more than any of four or five (post-1980) Raitt shows I’ve seen.

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Dr. Lonnie Smith’s Evolution is shockingly vital.  RIYL: Jack McDuff, monster grooves, Shirley Scott.

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“I’m Nick Saban in Alabama!”  Oh, Boosie.

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The tracks on Regina Belle’s The Day Life Began sound as if they belong on separate albums.  I adore the gospel song (“He’s Alright”) and the sophisticated uptown jazz number (“A Night of Love”). 

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I recently discovered the late vocalist Victoria de los Ángeles.  What is this sorcery?

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Black Tusk’s Pillars of Ash is every bit as solid as headbangers say it is.  RIYL: pre-rap Beastie Boys, metallic sludge, Mastodon.

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The first half of Rihanna’s Anti is embarrassingly awful.  The last several tracks are keepers.

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I didn’t know that Winston Jarrett was still among us.  A new in-studio session for KEXP is impressive.

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Technical death metal may be the most awful genre in music.  And I can't stop listening.  Obscura's Akróasis sounds like Lucifer fronting Return to Forever.  Here’s the title track.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: Hélène Grimaud- Water

I listen to instrumental music as I write.  Words from vocalists and rappers disrupt my already tenuous ability to concentrate.  Dramatic orchestral works are also out of the question.  While I can’t focus as Hélène Grimaud plays a stirring rendition of Sergei Rachmaninoff’s flashy Piano Concerto No. 2, her unusual new album Water provides ideal accompaniment to my typing.  A thought-provoking and creativity-inducing combination of solo piano compositions by the likes of Leoš Janáček and electronic “transition” pieces, Water will likely provide me with conducive workplace inspiration for the remainder of 2016.


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I reviewed a concert by Mark Chesnutt, Joe Diffie and Lorrie Morgan.

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I contribute the weekly Local Listen segment to KCUR.  Your Friend was featured last week.

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

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The lineup for Rockfest will be revealed on February 8.  I’ve set odds on the most likely headliners: Five Finger Death Punch (6/4), Megadeth (9/4) and Volbeat (9/1).  Bet at your own discretion.


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I look forward to spending quality time with Westend Recording Presents: "Amplify KC" Vol. 1, a collection of “heavy music” by Kansas City bands.

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Paul Kantner of Jefferson Airplane has died.

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Reading about the Fat White Family’s antics is more enjoyable than listening to the music created by the band of British hooligans.  Songs for Our Mothers is RIYL: exhaustion, the Brian Jonestown Massacre, hangovers.  The video for ”Whitest Boy on the Beach” is suitably messed up.

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I like Kevin Gates’ Islah in spite of myself.  Here’s 2 Phones.

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Boosie has ”Cancer”.

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I don’t particularly care for elaborate high-concept musical humor, but the David Gordon Trio’s Alexander Scriabin’s Ragtime Band is both amusing and impressive.  RIYL: P.D.Q. Bach, music school, André Previn.

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When You Wish Upon a Star, Bill Frisell’s new album of film music, is RIYL: Ennio Morricone, hillbilly jazz, Nino Rota.  I highlighted Frisell's forthcoming Kansas City show at Plastic Sax.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Rock Bottom

I heard a woman loudly complain that “these people are the dregs of society” at Rockfest on Saturday.  I stopped in my tracks as I waited for someone to deck her.  Had staying upright in the muck not been my top priority, I might have confronted her myself.

I’ve had it with incessant attacks on the annual music festival.  An alarming percentage of my acquaintances feel entirely comfortable mocking the music and patrons of Rockfest.

At best, their criticism is harmless bullying.  Most of the time, however, it’s unadulterated cultural elitism.

There’s a lot about Rockfest that I don’t like either.  It’s no secret that I loathe drug culture.  And I’m not amused by the festival’s unofficial mantra of “show me your titties." 

But I like hearing tens of thousands of proud people chant “USA” during the event’s displays of patriotism.  As for the music, I listen to several of the bands featured at this year’s festival for pleasure. 

Even though four people in the embedded photo are clearly displeased with me, I feel no less at home at Rockfest than at any other public gathering.

Here’s my Rockfest review.


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I consider the concept of jazz standards in an album review at Plastic Sax.

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Madisen Ward and the Mama Bear were featured in a Tiny Desk Concert.

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I’m embarrassed to admit that the visuals of a Kamasi Washington performance helped me finally appreciate The Epic.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

The Right Profile

As a typical teenager, I viewed the world in black and white. 

I took the nascent punk revolution at face value and renounced my affinity for everything that didn’t conform to the new sound.  I spent the better part of a year attempting to be a purist, an absurd challenge for a kid who grew up loving Waylon Jennings, Michael Jackson, Elton John and Stevie Wonder. 

It’s almost impossible to overstate the impact of London Calling.  When my favorite band embraced jazz, reggae, rockabilly and blues in 1979, I was freed from the false stylistic constraints of punk.

I wasn’t alone.  Thousands of Midwestern kids like me would soon welcome a new wave of Los Angeles bands like the Blasters and Los Lobos. 

J.D. McPherson’s excellent Let the Good Times Roll reminds me of that era.  The smart, funny and soulful album is as solid as anything that came out of the roots revival of the early 1980s.


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I reviewed Aaron Lewis’ concert at the VooDoo.

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I created a Local Listen segment about Maps For Travelers for KCUR.

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The lineup of the 2015 edition of Rockfest represents a step up from recent years.

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Orrin Keepnews has died.

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EarthEE, the new album by THEESatisfaction, is very good.  RIYL: Shabazz Palaces, funkateers, Erykah Badu.

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Ibeyi’s self-titled album is just a tad too precious for my taste.  RIYL: Dirty Projectors, public radio, Cibelle.  Here’s Ghosts.

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Jacky Terrasson is the exactly the type of brash ambassador that jazz desperately needs.  That said, his new album Take This makes me want to listen to Slayer.  Here’s the album trailer.

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If Spoon wasn’t really good, the band might sound like Diamond Rugs. Cosmetics also resembles an  inferior version of the Latin Playboys or Morphine.

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Gang of Four's What Happens Next is depressingly uninteresting.

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Bob! How could you? (I love that man.)

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I don’t even know who I am anymore.  A couple tracks on Diana Krall’s easy listening album Wallflower brought me to the brink of tears.  RIYL: Julie London, elevators, Andy Williams.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: F*cked Up- Glass Boys

I've seen at least three variations of the same exchange on my social media feeds.  After a fan raves about the new Bob Mould album, one of his pals dismisses the positivity by suggesting that Hüsker Dü was superior.  Who has time for nostalgia when F*cked Up just released Glass Boys?  Without ever sounding like it's aping its predecessors, F*cked Up combines the melodic rage of Hüsker Dü with Pete Townshend's rebellious theorizing. I'll blow the dust off my collection of Hüsker Dü vinyl on the SST label once I've had my fill of Glass Boys, but I don't anticipate that happening anytime soon.


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I reviewed Rockfest on Saturday.  And for the record, my report noted the Aaron Lewis incident that subsequently became a meme. 

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My notes on Sunday's performance by Ingrid Laubrock and Tom Rainey are at Plastic Sax.

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Here's a new video for a track on the Gee Watts album I reviewed at There Stands the Glass on April 12.

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A cameo by Music Millennium's Terry Currier makes Bob Mould's "I Don't Know You Anymore" my favorite music video of 2014.

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Not surprisingly, the new compilation Wheedle's Groove: Seattle's Finest In Funk & Soul 1965-75 is excellent.

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Just when I begin to think that I'm completely over mainstream jazz, Theo Croker's AfroPhysicist saves the day for swing.  RIYL: Dee Dee Bridgewater, your father's jazz, Roy Hargrove.

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Blu's Good to Be Home may be a good album, but I just can't deal with the knob-twisting production.  RIYL: 9th Wonder, annoying modulation, Digable Planets.

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The release of Me. I Am Mariah… The Elusive Chanteuse is testing the limits of my love/hate relationship with Mariah Carey.

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Black Stone Cherry's blend of Southern rock and metal has long appealed to me, but the new album Magic Mountain isn't very good.

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A few tantalizing moments on Meshell Ndegeocello's Comet, Come To Me cause me to marvel that she's not more popular than Prince.  The worst moments remind me of why she remains a cult artist.  RIYL: Janelle Monáe, arty dance music, Daft Punk.

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The guys in Parquet Courts put great records in their bags.

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Owen Pallett's In Conflict is an accessible entry point for anyone looking to investigate the avant/pop/classical composer's work.  RIYL: Ned Rorem, art galleries, Arcade Fire.

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It's nice that Dave and Phil Alvin put their differences aside to perform the songs of Big Bill Broonzy on Common Ground.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Mulgrew Miller, 1955-2013

The day after I learned that Mulgrew Miller had died, I shuffled into my museum of dead people to inspect my collection of the pianist's works. I uncovered a ticket stub for a 1994 concert at the Folly Theater titled "Four For Phineas."  

The four-piano tribute to Phineas Newborn, Jr., included Miller and some combination of James Williams, John Hicks, Harold Mabern, Geoff Keezer and Donald Brown.  (I want to say that Jay McShann was also in the mix as a special guest artist, but a cursory search doesn't provide any evidence of that fine concept.)

The stub indicates that I paid $17.50 to attend the Sunday afternoon show.  The relatively expensive ticket reflects the tenor of those times.  Miller was a heavily promoted artist signed to a major label.   The accepted wisdom was that he'd become a major star.  The idea seems hopelessly quaint today.  The ongoing marginalization of jazz began to accelerate in the mid-'90s.  The 1994 concert might have represented Miller's commercial- if not artistic- pinnacle.

Although I enjoy his recent work for MaxJazz, I find myself drawn to Miller's material for Landmark.  (That's Kenny Garrett on sax.) 

In today's harsh climate, I wonder what kind of career awaits aspiring tradition-minded jazz pianists.  Maybe the best a young artist in possession of a portion of Miller's bluesy earthiness and sparkling intelligence could hope for is a handful of regular gigs at an upscale piano bar and a teaching position at a local college.  There's no shame in that prospect, of course, but the era in which guys could fill large concert halls playing Phineas Newborn selections in support of a major label album are long gone.


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Clarence Burke, Jr. of the Five Stairsteps has died.

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The schadenfreude that's greeted the announcement of the cancelation of Kanrocksas is discouraging.  What's with all the bitter people who can't stand the idea of others having a good time?

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Beau Bledsoe offers a fascinating peek behind the curtains at Fado Novato's successful fundraising campaign to finance an extended trip to Portugal.

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Tech N9ne is featured on Wrekonize's "Freak".

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Hodgy Beats' "Years" is impressive.  RIYL: OFWGKTA, alcohol, "Swimming Pools (Drank)."

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People continue to attempt to commiserate with me about my work at Rockfest.  They don't get it.  I relish the annual event.  Here's an anecdote from this year's edition of Rockfest.  As the Danish band Volbeat played a medley of Johnny Cash covers, I watched a pair of strangers bond over their NASCAR tattoos.  Witnessing the encounter filled me with joy. 

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Kansas City Click: My official picks are published here.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review- Dalla In Jazz

Allow me to share an anecdote from my last trip to Rome.

The simple continental breakfast provided by a budget hostel was offered in a windowless room near the laundry facility.  The lights were automatically extinguished every time someone exited the room, requiring a guest to get up and manually flip a switch.  The Japanese and African travelers pretended to ignore the inconvenience.  The German and English tourists muttered amongst themselves.  A Californian couldn't restrain herself after the tenth blackout in about twenty minutes.

"F**king Italians," she screamed. 

The Italian experience can prove maddening to outsiders.  It's enchanting and annoying, beautiful and grating, lovely and obnoxious, sublime and confrontational.  That's how I feel when I listen to Dalla In Jazz.

The collection contains smooth jazz, smarmy lounge jazz, adventurous improvisational sounds worthy of Soul Note and ECM, Serge Gainsbourg-style sleaze (that's a good thing) and a couple selections with a Tunisian twist.  It's fair to say that I have no idea what's going on.  I had no prior awareness of Lucio Dalla when I began listening to the tribute album.  I'm only vaguely familiar with a couple of the musicians, but among the interesting aritsts now on my radar are Vinicio Capossela, Gegé Telesforo and the adventurous trumpet/accordion duo of Fabrizio Bosso and Luciano Biondini.

I love Italy.


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I reviewed Rockfest.

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Antennas Up made an amusing video for "Coming On".

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Footage of Reach and an excellent band opening for Talib Kweli features drummer Ryan Lee on keyboards.

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Helker may represent the future of rock and roll.  RIYL: Dio, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest.

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I'm pleased to introduce you to LeCroix Winget.  RIYL: Michelle Shocked, Lightinin' Hopkins, Kimya Dawson.  (Via Beau Bledsoe.)

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Last week I wrote that I was looking forward to hearing Joshua Redman's new album Walking Shadows.  Well, I loathe it.  The strings don't bother me.  The extreme conservatism, however, grates on me.

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The lineup for the 27th annual JazzReggae Fest doesn't include a single jazz artist.  Even so, I approve of any festival that presents both Barrington Levy and Common.

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After I listen to the new album by Red Line Chemistry, I'm going to check out this week's new releases by Anamanaguchi, Jason Boland, Will Calhoun, the Del-Lords, Dillinger Escape Plan, Eve, Juan Luis Guerra, Immolation, Jaga Jazzist, Glenn Jones, Mark Lanegan and Duke Garwood, Christian McBride, Laura Mvula and George Strait.

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Kansas City Click: Hansel und Gretyl appear at the Riot Room on Tuesday.

Scribbling Idiots are part of Wednesday's bill at the RecordBar.

Alan Ferber and Matt Otto perform Thursday at the Westport Coffee House.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: Reach- Live at RecordBar

When Reach insistently repeats the refrain "Hip Hop Is Alive" on his new album Live at RecordBar, he isn't celebrating the latest success of Wale or 2 Chainz.  Reach is a true believer in the original purist ideals of hip hop.  The new release- his fourth full-length album- serves as affirmation of Reach's principles.  Supported by the funk/jam band Mouth, DJ Ataxic and vocalists Schelli Tolliver, Sausha Brooks and Vance Ashworth, the well-recorded collaboration brings out the best in each participant.  Live at RecordBar represents most everything I respect but too rarely encounter in live hip hop performances.


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Gov't Mule was good on Tuesday.  Here's my review.  Diana Krall was great on Wednesday.  Here's my review.

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Jeff Hanneman of Slayer has died.

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Chris Kelly, better known as Mack Daddy of Kriss Kross, has died.

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Sid Selvidge has died.  Listen to "The River" from his 2003 album A Little Bit of Rain if you're in need a good cry.

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The single best live performance I witnessed last week was a rendition of Teri Quinn's "Shanafelt" at the senior recital of Sarrah Cantrell at UMKC's White Recital Hall.

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Betse Ellis performed "Straight to Hell" on KDHX.

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As I watched the attractive, well-heeled and diverse audience of about 10,000 take in Quixotic's sublime Surfaces performance last Sunday at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, it occurred to me that the event was the antithesis of Rockfest.  And in truth, I'm more of a Rockfest kind of guy.

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Les Izmore was a guest on KCUR's Central Standard.  (Not to be a stickler, but the "new" solo album in question was released in 2011.)

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I reviewed Matt Kane's Suit Up! at Plastic Sax earlier this week.

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De La Soul's new "Get Away" is impressive.

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I'm not prepared to endorse The Uncluded, the new partnership between Aesop Rock and Kimya Dawson, but it's entirely possible that I'll come around.  RIYL: parallel universes, primitivism, schizophrenia. 

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Dag- the lineup of Soundset 2013 goes from Atmosphere to Tech N9ne. 

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Two or three of you crusty old bastards highly-valued readers will be glad to hear that Spider John Koerner's new What's Left of Spider John is a lot of fun.  RIYL: Minnesota, Ramblin' Jack Elliott, Mississippi John Hurt. 

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Questlove is quite possibly the best person alive.

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Kansas City Click: My official picks are published here.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Review: Joe Budden- No Love Lost

I'd characterize my viewing of the television series Love and Hip Hop as a guilty pleasure, but I don't really enjoy watching the reality show.  Yet I can't tear myself away from the shrill drama perpetuated by misguided rappers and their farcical love interests. 

The supposed real life of Joe Budden looks miserable.  I've always liked the guy and I'm a big fan of his supergroup Slaughterhouse.  Unfortunately, nothing on Budden's new hit album No Love Lost is remotely as good as the all-star collective's recent "Throw It Away.

The project contains "She Don't Put It Down", my least favorite current radio song.  It's frustrating because Budden can't be written off.  A few of No Love Lost's tracks are effective.   The guilty conscious he exposes on the confessional "Skeletons" is a hip hop rarity.  "Castles" is a solid put-down of his hangers-on.

Budden recites the Serenity Prayer on the opening track.  I'm so grateful that I don't have his problems.


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I ponder Alaturka's new album Yalniz at Plastic Sax.

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Here's footage of Tony Tixier and Diverse performing at a house concert last weekend.  (I'm hiding in a back corner of the elegant room.)

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Readers can also spot me in the video of the Beautiful Bodies' "Invincible".

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Schorre's Son, the latest release by Dutch Newman, includes features by Ron Ron, Stik Figa, B Double E, the Phantom and Joey Cool.

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The lineup for the 2013 edition of Rockfest is solid. There are even a couple bands- including Heaven's Basement- that I haven't already seen.

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I encourage anyone who's Austin-bound for SXSW to check out the Midcoast Takeover.

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Hey, Paul Weller digs Os Mutantes, Gilberto Gil and Ethiopian jazz!

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Free Lil' Poopy!

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Kansas City Click: Patrick Krief performs at the RecordBar on Tuesday.

J.P. Harris appears at Knuckleheads on Wednesday.

The Blue Room hosts Amina Figarova and her band on Thursday.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)