I Can't Be Satisfied

Unless your name is Pat Metheny, I probably don’t want to hear you play a three-minute guitar solo. 

The ingratiating Marcus King, 20, did a credible impression of the late guitar hero Duane Allman at his band’s in-store performance at Vinyl Renaissance on Sunday.  I was far more impressed that he sang almost as well as Gregg Allman. 

But so what?  Blues prodigies are a dime a dozen.  Few things interest me less than a flashy blues-rock guitar virtuoso.

That’s partly why the Rolling Stones’ new rough-and-tumble album Blue & Lonesome is so impressive.  Only one song is longer than five minutes and nine selections clock in at less than four minutes. The absence of tiresome guitar solos on the informal tribute to Chess Records puts the vast majority of younger blues-rock artists to shame.


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I reviewed the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra’s concert at the Midland theater for The Kansas City Star.

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I wrote an extended concert preview about Mac Miller for The Kansas City Star and Ink magazine.

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I discussed the Snow Globes on KCUR last week.

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I wrote an extended preview for a benefit concert featuring the Fray and David Cook for The Kansas City Star and Ink magazine.

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I ranked my favorite jazz performances of 2016 at Plastic Sax.

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

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Childish Gambino’s outstanding Awaken, My Love! is RIYL: Funkadelic, wanting to get funked up, Sly & the Family Stone.  Here’s ”Redbone”.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Synapse Swing

A coworker at a record store gave me a copy of Jack DeJohnette’s Zebra in 1989.  I mistakenly considered the electronica project featuring trumpeter Lester Bowie a forgettable oddity at the time.  Twenty-six years later, DeJohnette’s experimentation seems remarkably prescient. 

I revisited the recording after enjoying High Risk, Dave Douglas’ exciting new album, and Starfire, the latest release from Jaga Jazzist.

Don’t tell my readers over at Plastic Sax, but mainstream acoustic jazz isn’t really doing it for me these days.  I either need to hear at least a hint of skronk or some sonic tinkering to get excited about the form in 2015. This pair of new releases does the trick.

Jaga Jazzist has a rabid following among the cool kids, but Starfire strikes me as an homage to the interstellar grooves of the Pat Metheny Group, a comparison that would surely upset status-conscious vinyl collectors. 

Dave Douglas expands on DeJohnette’s innovations on the outstanding High Risk.  The project’s luminous trumpet work and intriguing electronica thrill me.


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I reviewed a concert by the Smashing Pumpkins.

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I reviewed a concert by the Old 97’s.

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I wrote a detailed review of Dominique Sanders’ A True Story Based On… for public radio station KCUR.

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Kansas City’s Jooby Truth created a video for ”Rap Money”.

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Teddy Dibble examines jazz in 1964.

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Mel Waiters has died.  I reviewed a concert featuring the soul-blues artist in 2008.

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Chris Squire of Yes has died.  Here are my notes on a 2013 concert at the Midland theater.

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Gunther Schuller has died.

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Jamison Ross’ debut album gives me whiplash.  It sounds as if it was compiled from several different sessions.  It includes Robert Randolph-style rock, Ramsey Lewis-ish soul-jazz and sophisticated balladry in the vein of John Legend.

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Thundercat’s Beyond/Where the Giants Roam is RIYL: Flying Lotus, relaxed jams, George Duke.

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Here’s an inspiring story about recent events at St. Louis’ Vintage Vinyl.

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Kathryn Joseph doesn't make the sort of music I ordinarily appreciate. She sings like Joanna Newsom, a cloying affectation that usually drives me up a wall. Yet I’m enchanted by the Scot’s debut album Bones You Have Thrown Me and Blood I’ve Spilled.

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My favorite selections on Ben Williams’ Coming of Age evoke Herbie Hancock’s Headhunters and prime Lonnie Liston Smith. 

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After all these years, the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion’s gimmick still work for me.  Freedom Tower: No Wave Dance Party 2015 is RIYL: 1965-era Rolling Stones, sleaze, Eric Burdon.

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”Zing! Went the Strings of My Heart”

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I don't have much to add to Tim Finn’s review of the Rollings Stones’ concert at Arrowhead Stadium.  I enjoyed Saturday’s outing even more than the Stones shows I saw in 1981.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)