James King- Lonely River

It's dry.

I'm considering driving up to Lincoln, Nebraska, in a few weeks to camp out at this bluegrass festival. It'd be a great chance to clear my head by getting smelly and doing some pickin' 'n' grinnin'. One of the headliners, the James King Band, plays bluegrass the "right" way- pure, high and lonesome. "Lonely River" is from the 1993 album These Old Pictures.
---
Here's a gift for the DJs out there. At my request, my internet pal Tony sampled this classic line from a local television news broadcast. You're welcome.
---
The absurd "Love Reality" by Reggie and the Full Effect is a sure cure for the blues.

Junior Boys- First Time

The time has passed.

While Junior Boys are technically an electronica act, in their hearts they’re a pop group in the tradition of ABC and the Pet Shop Boys. The Canadian duo strike this delicate balance to great effect on So This Is Goodbye, their second full-length album.

Songs like "First Time" and "Count Souvenirs" could be mistaken for classic MTV favorites from the ‘80s. And the desperate "When No One Cares" rivals the work of acclaimed songwriter Stephin Merritt, although his work with Magnetic Fields has never enjoyed such effective production. Junior Boys’ sparse, forward-thinking aesthetic gives their music plenty of room to breathe.

Kansas Citians will have an opportunity to decide whether Junior Boys are a retro pop act or electronica innovators when the duo performs at The Record Bar Tuesday night.

Bill Caldwell- Eternal Triangle

An eternity has passed.

I was pleased to see several of Kansas City's premier musicians on stage when I entered a jazz cafe last night. Megan Birdsall and Gary Sivils were leading a band of familiar faces but I didn't immediately recognize the guy on sax. He was wearing a Chiefs shirt and looked a little haggard. But when he took his first solo it was as if Sonny Rollins had stepped onto the stage. Only then did I realize the man with the burly sound was Bill Caldwell. I hadn't seen him play for several years. Caldwell shares this 1993 date with Everette DeVan.

---
Former Texas Governor Ann Richards died last week. While attending a Raul Malo showcase at SXSW a couple years ago, I was startled to see her sitting on the floor of the packed room. She clearly was a true music lover.

---
My reviews of recent Tool and Dr. John concerts are posted here.

Marianne Faithfull- It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels

Good luck, Marianne.

Marianne Faithful's country album is all but forgotten. Faithless, from 1978, was her first release since the '60s and it wasn't until a year later that Broken English shattered popular and critical perceptions about her. Recorded with Joe Cocker's band, Faithless isn't entirely awful. Her stab at the Kitty Wells standard featured here has a certain woozy dancehall charm. She also has her way with Dylan's "I'll Be Your Baby Tonight." Faithfull was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. As you send positive thoughts her way, you might visit the lovely MySpace account someone compiled for Faithfull.

---
Tim Finn of the Star humorously recollects an odd encounter with James Brown at his music blog. James may still be carrying a torch for former Kansas City resident Marva Whitney.

---
Stereogum features an intriguing analysis and lively discussion of Microsoft's new line of MP3 players.

Bluesiana Triangle- Life's a One Way Ticket

We're all gonna die someday.

Bluesiana Triangle did little to dispel the common adage that most supergroups fail to fulfill their potential. The collaboration between Art Blakey, David "Fathead" Newman and Dr. John should have been lustrous. All three giants were immeasurably versatile and soulful musicians. Even so, their out-of-print album from 1990 is merely very good. If I get a chance when I see him tonight, I'll ask Dr. John for his appraisal of the project.

Dracomagnet- Souped-Up Monte Carlo and Feathered Hair

Later, Kansas.

The only statement more reckless than "I'm opening a record store," is "I'm starting a record label." I doubt that Hairball Records ever made a dime, but it did a fine job of documenting the Lawrence, KS, scene of the early '90s. This label compilation includes artists like Chubby Smith, The Eudoras, Todd Newman and even William S. Burroughs. Dracomagnet's contribution is a great example of the grinding sludge that dominated regional rock clubs at the time. Cough It Up: The Hairball Story is out of print, but it can literally be purchased for a penny.

Cibelle- City People

The city people locked their doors.

The Shine of Dried Electric Leaves was released in May but it's only now entered my top ten releases for the year. Although the Brazilian artist encrusts her music with crackles, wheezes and bleats, it's actually traditional Música Popular Brasileira at its core. Even Cibelle's collaboration with freak-folker Devendra Banhart on a Caetano Veloso cover is conventional. The video is charming. Antonio Carlos Jobim and Elis Regina would approve. Cibelle starts a 15-date tour of the United States this week.

Lonnie Johnson- There Is No Justice

There is no music.

I haven’t immersed myself in Bob Dylan’s new Modern Times yet. But my initial reaction to a few of its songs was to think that Dylan was deliberately conjuring the sound and feel of Lonnie Johnson. It’s quite possible that Dylan’s always been emulating the great blues guitarist, vocalist and songwriter. On this 1932 recording, Johnson exhibits clever wordplay, social commentary and phrasing that should sound immediately familiar to Dylan’s fans. And just like Dylan, Johnson kept playing for decades. This video at YouTube probably dates from the mid-‘60s. Good call, Bob.

Doug Sahm- On Bended Knee

Goodbye, friends.

I've spent a lot of time thinking about my friend Ron since his death last week. Ron possessed a rare blend of charm, kindness and a constant urge to flout convention. One of the few people I've met who shared these traits was Doug Sahm. Doug's chatter and obsessive enthusiasm for music were reminiscent of Ron's. I can easily imagine this song playing in Ron's record store, with Doug's spoken introduction sending Ron and his staff scurrying to their Bobby Charles section. Ron would have realized that S.D.Q. '98 was out of print and priced it accordingly.

Oliver Sain- St. Louis Breakdown

It's broken down.

Not everyone can be Ike Turner. Turner and Oliver Sain were born a year apart in Mississippi. Both men became prominent St. Louis-based musicians who occasionally worked at Sun studio in Memphis. While Turner crafted a golden ticket with Tina, Sain had small hits with "Bus Stop," "Booty Bumpin'" and "Party Hearty." He namechecks Rufus Thomas and James Brown on the title cut of this seemingly out-of-print compilation, which is loaded with similarly soulful, funky treasures. St. Louis' Vintage Vinyl probably has a few copies for sale.

The Blazers- Nobody Told Me

The rockin' is over.

I've been giving "just another band from east L.A." a lot of thought in anticipation of the new Los Lobos release next Tuesday. I revere their electronic experimentation and even happily tolerate their increasing jamband tendencies. But sometimes I miss the old sound- music that's anything but affected. That's one of the many reasons I love The Blazers. It may be unfair, but the Blazers will be forever tagged as Los Lobos' little brothers. Their catalog is an underrated treasure. The Pete Anderson-produced Just For You seems to be out-of-print, but plenty of copies are available at bargain prices here.

Dewey Redman, 1931-2006

Goodbye, Mr. Redman.

Jazz saxophonist Dewey Redman died Saturday. He was 75. He was perhaps best known for his work with Keith Jarrett and with the group Old & New Dreams. He was also Joshua Redman's father. Redman's solo on this 1992 date showcases his tough, burly tone and is a great example of Redman's rare ability to play both inside and out. The soulful piano solo is by Charles Eubanks.

Pip Pyle, 1950-2006

R.I.P.

Progressive rock drummer Pip Pyle died Monday, August 28. He was 56. Pyle is heard here in a 1975 tape by National Health. Bill Bruford later filled the drummer chair for the band. Pyle also worked with Gong, Hatfield and the North and many other acts associated with the "Canterbury scene."

The Four Lads- No Not Much

Not much left here.

Imagine life in America fifty years ago. The Korean War had ended. Eisenhower was in the White House. Most citizens hadn't yet heard the initial shots fired by musical revolutionaries Ray Charles, Chuck Berry, Little Richard and Elvis Presley. The tidy harmonies of The Four Lads were one of the most popular recording acts and "No Not Much" was one of the biggest hits of 1956. Weird, huh?

Plastilina Mosh- Mr. P. Mosh

Buy this brilliance.

I want to be Plastilina Mosh's publicist. I'm confident that I could break the Mexican duo in the United States before Christmas. They've issued a new compilation that showcases their immediately accessible sound that's somewhere between Beck's funk and the Scissor Sisters' manic fun. The collection includes this wacky 1998 single. And as the band's publicist, I'd track down and destroy every copy of the awful videos for the ridiculously catchy song, including this one and this even creepier version. So why aren't they stars north of the border? Just wait until I'm on the payroll.

Lee McBee- Swear To Tell the Truth

Goodbye, Ron.

Ron Rooks, owner of the Music Exchange record store in Kansas City, died earlier this week. He probably would have wanted me to post a profane song by Frank Zappa or a crazy guitar summit in his memory. But Ron and I never agreed on anything. I think Ron would still be pleased with something from Lee McBee, a man he no doubt knew very well. The bluesman made a name for himself internationally, and he plays here every Sunday night. "Swear To Tell the Truth" is taken from a seemingly out-of-print compilation that's probably available at the Exchange. Alas, it'd be easier to buy it at Amazon. I remember Ron here.

Anthony Braxton- Composition - No. 88 (+108C)

Thanks, Mr. Braxton.

The first sentence in Anthony Braxton's liner notes for Five Compositions (Quartet) begins with these words: "The conceptual and vibrational reality of my quartet music in the 1980's has evolved into a multi-dynamic platform for extended participation that is quite separate (and different) from earlier quartet models..." Near the end of the inscrutable, lengthy treatise Braxton gives his readers a break. As if laughing, he writes, "OK, OK, it doesn't swing!" Braxton has jokes- and I think that most people miss the inherent humor in free jazz. When I listen to this out-of-print 1986 album I hear a set of very sympathetic musicians having a casual conversation. They're telling stories, tossing out asides, and yes, they're guffawing at the punch lines.

David Schnaufer, R.I.P.

The sun has set.

I own a dulcimer. David Schnaufer is partly to blame. The man who helped popularize the stringed instrument died August 23. He was 53. The credits on this out-of-print recording reflect the high regard other musicians held for Schnaufer. Mark O'Connor, Kenny Malone and Chet Atkins are among Schnaufer's guests. Even so, I chose to feature Schnaufer alone with his dulcimer on this charming cover.

---
My review of Saturday's Marty Stuart and Paul Thorn concert in Kansas City is
here.

Perez Prado- Granada

Farewell.

Hitting the high notes. That's how Maynard Ferguson will be remembered. The trumpeter died Wednesday. He was 78. In the right context, Ferguson's showmanship was riveting. He's one of three trumpeters on Perez Prado's Havana, 3 a.m. from 1956, but I'm willing to wager that it's his flashy work that's the focus of "Granada." Hearing Prado's grunted exhortations is always a blast. Here, they're the stuff of life itself. Get the essential Bear Family reissue here.

Everette DeVan- Lou's Good Dues Blues

The dues are paid.

Every metropolis has a standout jazz organ player. Kansas City's is Everette DeVan. His good humor and extensive knowledge of all jazz and blues forms, to say nothing of his remarkable talent, keep him busy in local clubs several nights a week. On this 1996 recording, DeVan demonstrates that he can hold his own with the work of Jimmy Smith, Jimmy McGriff and Shirley Scott.

Luka Bloom- Dancing Queen and I Am a River

The queen washed away.

I'm looking forward to seeing Irish folk artist Luka Bloom next week on his unlikely three-date tour of the United States. Bloom is in the highest tier of contemporary songwriters. But he's also cursed with a talent for reinterpreting material by other artists. He finds the pathos inside Abba's "Dancing Queen" on Keeper of the Flame, a revelatory album of covers.

Bloom is also soliciting pre-orders for an unfinished project. He offers the mood piece "I Am a River" at his site, and writes:

"If enough of you like the sound of this one track, and are willing to buy your copy in advance - like immediately, this money would help finance the finishing of this record. If say, 1000 people were willing to buy the record for 20 euros; that 1000 people would receive a copy signed by Simon and me; and you would receive a bonus extra track for your gesture of good faith! We expect to have the record ready for release by February 1st 2007. "

That's pretty steep, but I'm in if the "bonus extra track" is his take on Outkast's "Morris Brown."

Moacir Santos, 1926-2006

Thank you.

I wandered over to the fine Song With Orange music blog yesterday and discovered that Moacir Santos died on August 13. A Brazilian-born composer and arranger, Santos relocated to Los Angeles in 1967. Blue Note released two Santos albums in the early '70s, but he'd been largely forgotten until Adventure Music released Ouro Negro, a lavish two-disc set of new recordings, in 2004. It's nothing short of triumphant summation of Santos' life and career.

***
I read that music industry veteran Dave Nives died recently. He was 52. I did some work with Dave in the early '90s. He was a funny, smart and generous guy.

Joseph Hill, 1949-2006

Joseph Hill, 1949-2006

One of the great voices of reggae music has been silenced. Culture's Joseph Hill died Saturday in Berlin. He was 57. His distinctive burnished voice sung the praises of Rastafarianism on dozens of roots-reggae albums. Two Sevens Clash remains the most highly praised release, but my favorite is the rawer Trod On. Even so, I chose to feature 1997's first-rate Trust Me because of its wonderful photograph of Hill- his sly gaze mirrors his warm, gentle and intelligent music. There's also plenty of great Culture footage at YouTube, including a gorgeous video promoting Trust Me's "Riverside" and solid live concert material.

Your Black Star- The Gauze Above the Lights

The lights are off.

Step back, Interpol and She Wants Revenge.

Since you’ve already picked over the bones of Joy Division, Louisville boys Your Black Star are feasting on the carcasses of Echo and the Bunnymen, the Teardrop Explodes and October-era U2.

And the pickings are delicious.

Songs like “Oh Jesus...” sound like they’re pulled directly from their cherished resting spots between Ultravox and Modern English on a Pure Modern Rock of the 80s, Volume 3 compilation.

Your Black Star is consistently dark and brooding on their third release, Sound From the Ground. The band grew out of Revelation Records artist Elliott and traces of that band’s post-punk sensibilities keep the project from lapsing into the pathetic sniveling that entraps other bands traversing this territory.

Sound From the Ground is scheduled for an October 17 release on Wonkavision Records.

5th Ward Weebie- Whatever

Weebie wobbled away.

Triksta: Life and Death and New Orleans Rap holds special appeal for me. Like author Nik Cohn, I have experienced the seductive allure of being a small-time music biz impresario with just enough pull to insure that interesting new talent keeps walking through the door. I have also had the profound pleasure of hosting Katrina refugees from New Orleans in my home.

While Cohn's examination of artists including Soulja Slim and Choppa are fascinating, and his distaste for labels like No Limit is boundless, what makes Triksta extraordinary is the insight it offers into the pre-Katrina life of impoverished black New Orleans. Cohn explicates the community's overwhelming sense of hopelessness and the resulting impotent rage that I recognized in my new family.

The first artist mentioned in Triksta is 5th Ward Weebie. The ugly, merciless world Weebie and his cohorts Three 6 Mafia, Mr. Serv-On and Sleepy Eyes Jones describe on "Whatever" is no longer a celebratory cartoon to me. I now hear it for what it actually is- an apocalyptic vision with actual names and faces attached.

Gene Ammons- Walkin'

The music walked into the sunset.

Jazz pianist Duke Jordan died August 8. He was 84. While the Steeplechase label tirelessly recorded Jordan as a leader, he's most often associated with his work as a sideman for Roy Eldridge, Charlie Parker, Gene Ammons and Stan Getz. Jordan's rollicking piano kicks off this 1950 battle between Ammons and Sonny Stitt. Originally called "Gravy," when Miles Davis covered this piece four years later it was retitled "Walkin'."

Ian Dury- Uneasy Sunny Day Hotsy Totsy

The sun has set.

Ian Dury never fit in. When he released his two seminal albums in the late '70s, New Boots and Panties and Do It Yourself and , no one was sure what to make of this unattractive man's music. Was it comedy, disco, pub rock, reggae or punk rock? It was all of that, and consequently, it's aged really well. Here's the best song from the aforementioned albums that didn't make the cut for Dury's excellent import-only greatest hits compilation.

Jackie Wilson- Right Now!

Now is then.

I bought the now out-of-print Jackie Wilson box set several years ago so I could finally hear a few songs without the over-the-top production that characterizes his hits. Boy, was I disappointed. Wilson's seminal voice is surrounded by goopy strings, dorky choirs and intrusive percussion on almost all of the collection's 72 songs. It's criminal. Still, there are a few obscurities that are as weird as they are compelling, such as the doo-wop meets country-and-western mash-up of 1958's "Right Now!"

The New Amsterdams- Bad Liar

No more lying.

Here's a good topic for barroom banter at Lawrence's Replay Lounge or at the Record Bar in Kansas City- name every project by members of the late Get Up Kids. It's a very long list. The New Amsterdams may be my favorite. 2006's Story Like A Scar doesn't get much respect in these parts. Yet it's loaded with memorable songs like "Bad Liar" that recall the acerbic heyday of fellow Kansan Freedy Johnston. See you at the Replay Lounge.

Ronald Isley- This Guy's In Love With You

This guy is gone.

Is that really you, Mr. Biggs? The salacious contemporary persona of the Isley Brothers founder is nowhere to be found on this 2003 collaboration with Bert Bacharach. Hearing Isley float delicately over a full orchestra is unfailingly gorgeous and entertaining. Most singers reduce Bacharach's songs to the level of hollow greeting cards, but Isley imbues them with poetic depth. The new Isley Brothers album is titled Baby Makin' Music. The appropriate subititle of Here I Am: Isley Meets Bacharach might be "Adults Only."

Robyn Hitchcock- The Sound of Sound

No more sound.

Rather than light a candle for the three notorious oddballs that have recently passed, I’m spotlighting a song by a living eccentric that serves as a fitting memorial for three recently departed musicians. It's as if Robyn Hitchcock composed this bit of wistful but menacing psychedelia with Syd Barrett, Arthur Lee and Rufus Harley in mind. "I’ll remember you."

Floyd Dixon, 1929-2006

Floyd Dixon, 1929-2006

I admired an advertisement for the Long Beach Blues Festival in OC Weekly as I sat in an Orange County motel room ten days ago. Bettye Lavette! Rickie Lee Jones! Jerry Butler! Floyd Dixon! In a time when very few original blues legends remain, it's rare to see such a savvy and intriguing blend of talent. A few minutes later, I picked up the Los Angeles Times and discovered Dixon's obituary. This is a decent re-record of one of Dixon's best known hits for a 1996 release on Alligator Records.

Robert Bradley's Blackwater Surprise- Burn

Only ashes remain.

I stood impassively in a bar last night as people all around me danced ecstatically. Sometimes life as a lifelong music obsessive is a drag. A promising local band, Brothers Green, were laying down ragged funk-drenched blues. The charismatic vocalist had the crowd in an evangelical frenzy. But not me. Instead, I recalled stumbling into St. Louis' Mississippi Nights in the mid-90s and being floored by an unknown act named Robert Bradley's Blackwater Surprise. I lost my mind then, just as people did for Brothers Green last night. Those lucky folks didn't realize that Brothers Green were using Bradley's sound- intentionally or not- as a blueprint. It's no crime- bands like The Black Keys probably studied this 1996 album, too.

Volebeats- Everytime

The pop has popped.

The Pussycat Dolls fulfill many guys' fantasies. They destroyed mine. I used to pontificate on the inevitable comeback of pure pop music. I reasoned that the sounds on albums like Beatles For Sale and Seconds of Pleasure were so irresistible that it was just a matter of time before chiming guitars and ingratiating melodies recaptured radio charts. The Pussycat Dolls juggernaut exposes my assertion as naive and wishful thinking. That's bad news for bands like Volebeats. Most songs on 2005's Like Her sound like variations on "Needles and Pins"- and I intend that as high praise. Not that it matters. You win, girls- keep on shakin'.

Gary Sivils- Mr. Bojangles

No more dancing.

This is the sound of the jazz life in Kansas City. Gary Sivils has been blowing his trumpet in area clubs for decades, delighting a few dozen aficionados while being pointedly ignored by the rest of the world. World-class talent isn't always rewarded with riches, of course, so a straight job had to pay the bills. That's one reason his reading of "Mr. Bojangles" resonates so deeply. Sivils' emotional, intelligent playing recalls Clifford Brown and Miles Davis. While this is a 1996 date, Sivils remains active today.

Willie Nelson- Opportunity To Cry

No more tears.

The artistic and popular resurgence enjoyed by Johnny Cash at the end of his life is a rare music industry feel-good story. Meanwhile, Willie Nelson, 73, is still recording and touring with a vengeance. More than ever, he seems to be doing whatever he damn well feels like. You Don't Know Me: The Songs of Cindy Walker is one of the best releases of 2006. There's also a new essential reissue of his most celebrated music. The infamous IRS Tapes are long out-of-print. "Opportunity To Cry" packs pathos, hilarity, a rude inference and disturbing psychosis into two-and-a-half minutes. Here's to your health, Willie.

Grace Potter and the Nocturnals- 2:22

Time's up.

It’s the most ingenious marketing plan of 2006.

While attempting to locate an elusive Tim Buckley and Judy Collins duet among dusty Elektra label master tapes, an archivist uncovered a staggeringly brilliant unreleased recording. After a chemically-inspired jolt of inspiration during Phil Lesh's set at Bonnaroo, the label's marketing deparment decided to release the 35-year-old album as a new independent effort by a fictional act out of Vermont named Grace Potter and the Nocturnals. Even with the obviously fake name- I would have gone with “Hermione Hogsmeade and the Hippogriffs”- people actually believe the ruse. To further convince skeptics, the label even produced images of the “band"'s live performances.

Anyone who listens to Nothing But the Water will recognize that not a note on it could have been recorded any later than 1976. Surely it’s an old Rory Block or Bonnie Bramlett session. It’s no secret that authentic folk-blues records with memorable songs like this just aren’t made any more. This so-called “Grace Potter”even name-checks J.J. Cale in the first song. C’mon! The album bears no resemblance to tedious contemporary “blooze,” nor does it have anything in common with the safe sounds of Norah Jones’ hits.

The rest of the world may be fooled, but not me. You’ll find Nothing But the Water on my year-end top ten list- that'd be my top ten reissue and archival recording list, of course.

The Who- The Kids Are Alright

The kids left home.

Who cares? Me, that's who! Sure, Keith Moon may have been the soul of The Who, just as John Entwistle was the group's foundation. That leaves the voice and the brains, half of the greatest rock band ever. So you won't hear me dismissing The Who's latest tour. This live recording from 2000 demonstrates the way they're still able to make ancient songs relevant. Of course the kids are alright. (Note to the Who types- this post will be removed in 48 hours. )

Malachi Thompson, 1949-2006

Midnight has come and gone for Malachi Thompson.

It's not fair, but I always perceived Malachi Thompson as standing in Lester Bowie's shadow. Both men were experimental jazz trumpeters based in Chicago. Bowie wore a white lab coat, had flashy hair and an effective publicity machine. Thompson was no less creative but he never enjoyed widespread acclaim. This relatively straight reading of "'Round Midnight" is somewhat atypical. The same 1998 release, for instance, contains a "science fiction short story" titled Worm Hole. Even so, Thompson can't restrain himself on the plaintive ballad- don't miss the wacky quote at the 3:10 mark. Thompson died on July 16 after a prolonged struggle with cancer.

Lil' Ed & the Blues Imperials- Natural Man

Lil' Ed and his boogie machine have moved on.

You know that tiresome guy at the guitar shop who demonstrates that he knows every classic rock riff? It turns out that his name is Joe Bonamassa. He headlined at the Kansas City Blues Society’s free concert series last Sunday. Bonamassa does more than just quote "Smoke On the Water," "Layla,"and "Stairway To Heaven"- he makes sure you know how fast he can play them. Fortunately, the Blues Society has a perfect remedy for Bonamassa's excess. Lil’ Ed & the Blues Imperials are playing the series this Sunday. Sloppy and fun, the roadhouse band is the anti-Bonamassa. They’re essentially a Hound Dog Taylor tribute band, and that’s intended as high praise. Can someone give me a ride home?

Thinking Fellers Union Local 282- The Invitation

The party's over.

Do you still get calls like this? It's pathetic, but I still make similar calls once every blue moon. Contrasting Hugh's invitation to "get really drunk and high" with a mournful dirge is a stroke of genius typical of Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, a California-based experimental band. They were sort of a crankier Camper Van Beethoven. "The Invitation," from 1994, is the perfect introduction or conclusion to a savage mix CD.

Sam Myers, 1936-2006

Sam Meyers will be missed.

Blues musician Sam Myers died yesterday in Dallas. He was 70. Myers had been diagnosed with cancer in February 2005. After working as Elmore James' drummer for over a decade, he became a fixture on the chitlin circuit. For the last twenty years, Myers had been vocalist and harmonica player for Anson Funderburgh & the Rockets. This 1997 recording showcases Myers' rich, playful voice.

Danny Cox- Bring Our Loved Ones Back

The MP3 is gone, but Danny sings on.

I’m straying from the regular format of There Stands the Glass today to tell you about a brave thing Danny Cox did Friday night.

Cox delivered a strident anti-war protest song to an unsuspecting audience in Olathe, Kansas, the most politically conservative corner of the Kansas City metropolis. As a renowned folk singer who enjoyed national acclaim in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, Cox is no stranger to topical material. Even so, he has probably rarely performed before a less receptive group of people.

"Bring Our Loved Ones Back," with lines like "We’re killing citizens all over the world" and "Thank God for the internet," isn’t going to make anyone forget "We Shall Overcome." Still, its sincerity and earnestness are quite compelling. This is a recording of Cox’s song from a performance earlier this year at All Soul’s Unitarian Church.

Remarkably, no one in Olathe booed or left in protest when the song concluded. Two dozen people even stood and applauded.

Cox was in Olathe as the unannounced opening act for Malford Milligan. The concert was part of the city’s free Friday night concert series. Many of the approximately 400 people in attendance walked to the event from their nearby homes.

Cox had been charming the audience with polite folk standards and ditties about the challenges of raising children. Then he was joined by Malford Milligan for a couple songs. The extraordinary voice of Milligan, an Austin-based blues and rock musician, seemed to invigorate Cox. "It’s so great to sing with someone you never sang with," Cox exclaimed as Milligan left the stage. "All we have is a few chords and passion. I can say we felt the passion."

It was then that Cox sang "Bring Our Loved Ones Back." While Milligan and his backing trio later ran through a solid set that showcased Milligan’s marvelous voice, Cox’s courage remained the highlight of the evening.

Milligan is incredibly photogenic, as you can see in the additional photos of the concert I posted here.

Los Lobos- Maricela

Maricela left us.

I saw the greatest rock band of the last thirty years last night. Sure, many albums are better than Kiko, Los Lobos' defining release, and on any given night there are a few dozen bands that might be more immediately relevant, but none have sustained the high quality over three decades like Los Lobos. Disagree? I suppose you could make a case for The Isley Brothers or The Red Hot Chili Peppers. But no other band- I'm not counting solo artists like Prince or Neil Young- have been consistently better. They were a little creaky at their casino gig last night, and only a few moments were trancendent. "Maricela" provided one of the spine-tinglers. It's from their reviled album Colossal Head. While not one song from Head made the cut for the band's new Rhino compilation, the 1996 release is filled with soulful brilliance.

Ornette Coleman- Feet Music

The clips took a walk.

Here's a deal you can't refuse. To receive a fundamental understanding of Ornette Coleman's theory of harmolodics you could study at the Berklee College of Music for a couple years. Or you could simply listen to these two MP3s. Their contents explain the music of Ornette Coleman as well as any book or lecture. In All Languages, Coleman's revolutionary, out-of-print release, contains both acoustic and electric versions of the same material. Are they radically different or essentially the same? "Yes," is Ornette's likely reply.

Somos 21- Sueno De Un Nino

No mas.

Last night's All-Star Game was delayed after the fourth inning for a tribute to Pittsburgh Pirate legend Roberto Clemente. As a Chicago kid in 1972, my favorite players were Fergie Jenkins and Billy Williams. But Roberto Clemente was near the top of everyone's list. It was devastating news when he was killed while on a humanitarian mission that New Year's Eve. This 1998 tribute to Clemente features a few stars of salsa as well as the participation of his family.

Nightnoise- The March Air

O' Domhnaill will be missed.

"The death has taken place of Michael O' Domhnaill," this this RTE report begins (Real Audio link). That distinct Irish phrasing was also the defining element of O' Domhnaill's work, even with the New Age-leaning Nightnoise, the Windham Hill group he co-founded. The multi-instrumentalist O' Domhnaill was also a former member of the Bothy Band. He was 54.

----
The sad news of Syd Barrett's passing just reached me. Because I came of age in a time when Pink Floyd dominated rock radio, and every nuance of The Wall, Dark Side of the Moon and Wish You Were Here were permanently drilled into my being, I've deliberately avoided all things Floyd the past two decades. The only Barrett-era song that had that same omnipresent impact on me was "See Emily Play," a mix-tape staple in high school. "There is no other day," Syd. Farewell.

Ever We Fall- Bring 'Em In Billy (Techno Remix)

I had to bring 'em in.

As I toted an armful of discs to my car after a Warped Tour date a few weeks ago, I wonderered if labels practically give music away at this event because they realize that kids place more value on apparel than on music, or if labels in this genre simply "get it"? Either way, I'm glad to have this Ever We Fall remix on Hopelessly Devoted To You, Vol. 6, a $3.00, three-disc compilation showcasing the releases of the prominent label group. Stripped of guitars and with a shameless Postal Service-style production, the song is transformed into a haunting slice of pathos. The Portland-based Ever We Fall is one of the best AP magazine-style bands; hear what they usually sound like at their Pure Volume page.

John Hiatt- I Don't Even Try

The song quit trying.

Babysitters in Kansas City cleaned up last night. John Hiatt was headlining at the VooDoo Lounge in Harrah’s Casino and it felt like half of suburbia was there to welcome him. The North Mississippi Allstars opened the show with a polite, technically-proficient but charisma-free set. Those same qualities made them a perfect backing band for Hiatt. My date adores Hiatt, and to be fair, he’s a great performer. While I respect him, Hiatt's music ceased to speak directly to me after Stolen Moments. So here’s a wobbly Riding With the King song from a live promotional 1993 release.

Cosmic Psychos- Champagne Sunday

The champagne is flat.

Robbie "Rocket" Watts, guitarist for the Cosmic Psychos, died July 1 at the age of 47. The Australian band had played a gig in support of their new release the previous night. This 1993 Amphetamine Reptile label release is a good example of the vital sludge Watts produced with the band.