Freakin' Weekend

As I gave each of my favorite releases a final run-through before I submitted a top ten album list to The Kansas City Star last weekend, I was indignantly reminded that not everyone in my compound is eager to hear language that most people consider objectionable.  I’ve become so inured to lurid content that it takes a lot to shock me.  It’s noteworthy, consequently, that R. Kelly’s new song ”Marching Band” is way too much for me to handle.


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After impatiently watching the Family Stone riff for 15 minutes as it attempted to solve what I assumed was a stage monitor issue at last month’s 18th & Vine Jazz and Blues Festival, I gave up and went to the Blue Room to secure a good seat for an appearance by Kahil El'Zabar.  Cynthia Robinson was probably on the stage with the Family Stone, but because my notes at There Stands the Glass and Plastic Sax are seemingly the only reviews of the festival, I may never know for certain.  I encountered ”Dance to the Music” long before I was exposed to “Peter and the Wolf”.  The song taught me about the sonic components of pop.  And Cynthia Robinson’s cry of “all the squares, go home” was one of the most exciting things I’d ever heard.  Robinson died last week.


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A segment about the Roseline is among my recent contributions to KCUR’s weekly Local Listen feature.

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Should jazz be treated with kid gloves?  I don’t think so.

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Andy Johns has died.

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“Food” is my favorite song by Ces Cru since the duo has been signed to Strange Music.  Here’s the video.

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Joey Cool made a video for “All Hail.”

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Teddy Dibble issued a 36-minute jazz vinyl missive today.

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Romain Collin’s Press Enter strikes me as overly polite.  RIYL: Esbjörn Svensson, Euro jazz, the Bad Plus.

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The slick folk that infects Lizz Wright’s Freedom & Surrender doesn’t appeal to me.  RIYL: Natalie Merchant, Lilith Fair, k.d. lang.

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I caught Dave Douglas’ current group at the New York venue this year, but I’m not I’m prepared to buy all eight hours of Brazen Heart Live at Jazz Standard.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Blame It All On My Roots

Self awareness can be crippling.  It’s a little late in the game to be discovering myself.  Only now am I beginning to comprehend that there’s no hiding the ancestral dirt under my fingernails.

I eagerly cued up Benjamin Clementine’s At Least For Now after it won the Mercury Prize last week.  I found his art-rock so irksome that I was compelled to retreat to the latest albums from Toby Keith and George Strait. 

By most critical measures neither 35 MPH Town nor Cold Beer Conversation are superior to At Least For Now.  Yet the conventional country albums are part of my musical DNA.

I sometimes envy the rarefied people who were raised on Kurt Weill and the Brandenburg Concertos even though growing up on Waylon Jennings and Stevie Wonder probably better prepared me for the world.  While my passion for forms like free jazz is genuine, it’s self-taught.

Keith and Strait, consequently, sound like my home turf while Clementine strikes me as a pretentious twit.  It can’t be helped. 

Jason Isbell seems to be singing to me on the opening track of Something More Than Free:  “I got too far from my raisin’, I forgot where I come from.”


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I reviewed Jackson Browne’s concert at the Music Hall.

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I reviewed Diana Krall’s return to the Midland theater.

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I wrote an essay about Adele and Allen Stone for Ink magazine.

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P.F. Sloan has died.

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Bassekou Kouyate and Ngoni Ba's Ba Power is wondrous.  RIYL: Malian music, Ali Farke Touré, life.

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The bland pop of Julieta Venegas’ Algo Sucede saddens me.  Here’s the title track.

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The trailer for the new documentary “Sound of Redemption: The Frank Morgan Story” is promising.

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Julien Baker’s Sprained Ankle is RIYL: Michelle Shocked’s The Texas Campfire Tapes, tears, Joni Mitchell’s Blue.

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The Matthew Shipp Trio plays it straight on The Conduct of Jazz.  RIYL: Thelonious Monk, a semblance of structure, Cecil Taylor.

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Stop the presses- Con Funk Shun has released a new album!  The video for ”More Than Love” is… something.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Allen Toussaint, 1938-2015

Like most people, I was introduced to the brilliance of Allen Toussaint through hits by other artists.

Hearing his suggestive production on Labelle's lurid "Lady Marmalade" and Robert Palmer's downright nasty version of his song "Sneakin' Sally Through the Alley" exposed me to the concepts of prostitution and adultery when I was an impressionable kid. 

I would later binge on Toussaint's monstrously funky collaborations with New Orleans vocalists like Lee Dorsey and Ernie K-Doe and I heard a lot of colorful Toussaint stories from record clerks and buyers when I represented his NYNO record label in a territory that included New Orleans in the '90s. 

Toussaint's impeccably formal demeanor and elegant presentation during his concerts at the Folly Theater in 2010 and 2014 contrasted starkly with the vignettes of street life associated with his work in the 1960s and 1970s.  Discovering that the man responsible for a large swathe of the sultriest American music looked and acted like an investment banker was shocking.

I reviewed his concerts at the Folly Theater in 2010 and 2014.  Tim Finn quotes one of those critiques in a tribute to the great man.


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I write weekly music previews for The Kansas City Star.

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I wrote an extended concert preview about Murs.

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My enthusiastic notes about a concert of egghead jazz by Drew Williams and John Blevins is posted at Plastic Sax.

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Phil Taylor, the former drummer of Motorhead, has died.

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Gene Norman once yelled at me on a regular basis.  The entrepreneur died last week.  I’m saddened by his passing.

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The chorus of Tech N9ne’s ”PBSA” is unfortunate.

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Steddy P made a video for ”Perfect”.

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The video for Shades of Jade’s ”That One” looks as if it's sponsored by a PR firm representing Kansas City’s Crossroads district.

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Counterparts’ performance at Aftershock on Saturday looked and sounded almost exactly like this.  Acacia Strain and Fit for an Autopsy also spurred miniature riots.  In spite of the chaos, I witnessed only two injuries and a single ejection.  And since I established an unfortunate precedent in my notes about Arlo Guthrie’s concert last month, it’s only fair to note that vape smoke, passed gas, spilled beer and blood-streaked sweat made the show the smelliest concert I’ve attended in 2015.

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The wondrous tracks on The Cutting Edge 1965-1966 remind listeners that Bob Dylan has always been a tinkerer.

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Angie Stone’s enchanting Dream is RIYL: The Supremes, real life, the Honey Cone.

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I’d better not hear any of the people who are extolling Grimes' Art Angels disparage the similar output of Justin Bieber.

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D-Stringz, the latest collaboration between Stanley Clarke, Bireli Lagrene and Jean-Luc Ponty, makes me drowsy.

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I’ve always had a weak spot for Pieces of a Dream.  All In is RIYL: candlelight, Najee, wine.

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Bobby Caldwell’s new Cool Uncle project makes me smile.  RIYL: Freddie Jackson, step dancing, Boz Scaggs.  Here’s ”Never Knew Love Before”.

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I recently came across footage of a 75-minute performance by Henry Threadgill’s Zooid.

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Boots was fantastic when he opened for Run the Jewels at the Midland theater last month, but his new album Aquaria doesn’t do much for me.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

An Anniversary Toast

A few observations about the legacy of Ted Hawkins launched this site on November 14, 2005.  I’m still at it ten years later. 

No amount of unwarranted DMCA take-down notices, desperate link-sharing requests from short-lived sites, shameless swagger-jacking by professional music journalists and snarky comments from friends and strangers have dissuaded me from posting music commentary.  This is entry #1,387 at There Stands the Glass.

I realize that the layout is tired- it hasn’t changed in ten years.  In an era in which design is more highly valued than substance, I recognize that There Stands the Glass is hopelessly dingy.  I’m clearly not motivated by fashion or trends. I don’t even accept guest list invitations.

Initially a MP3 blog that showcased obscure gems from my collection of albums and CDs, There Stands the Glass now acts as a musical diary.  (I’ve also documented Kansas City’s jazz scene at Plastic Sax since 2007.)

The longevity of There Stands the Glass isn’t a mystery.  I don’t care if anyone is reading.  Unlike the sad sot in Webb Pierce's 1953 hit, I'm not "wondering where you are tonight."

I’m not going anywhere.


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A broad smile never left my face on Saturday night.  Here's my review of Juan Gabriel’s concert at the Sprint Center for The Kansas City Star.

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I reviewed Mike Metheny’s new album at Plastic Sax.

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

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I wrote at length about Lindi Ortega in a preview of her appearance at Knuckleheads.

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I contributed a Local Listen segment about guitarist Will Matthews to KCUR.

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I didn’t fall in love with Lalah Hathaway’s voice until it buckled my knees at a free concert last year.  (My review.)  Hathaway’s new live album is an homage to her father Donny- it opens with ”Little Ghetto Boy”- and acts as an exciting document of her immense talent.

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Lionel Loueke kicks out the jams on Gaia.  I like the abrasiveness but detest the indulgence.  RIYL: James “Blood” Ulmer, guitar pyrotechnics, Jimi Hendrix.

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The playing of saxophonist Tim Berne and tubist Dan Beck make Ingrid Laubrock’s Ubatuba a jazz joyride.  The album is superior to Laubrock’s fine show at the RecordBar last year.  (My notes.)  RIYL: Henry Threadgill, skronk, Julius Hemphill.

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”#Hashtag” is the standout track on Lyfe Jennings’s Tree of Lyfe.  RIYL: Charlie Wilson, the ghost of Marvin Gaye, Anthony Hamilton.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: The Cox Family- Gone Like the Cotton

I didn’t know the remarkable backstory of the Cox Family’s Gone Like the Cotton when I first played the new release.  Instead of marveling at the convoluted origin of the project, I wondered why I hadn’t heard anything from the excellent band in almost 20 years.  It’s a sad story.  Anyone who longs for the unassuming nature of Alison Krauss’ pre-stardom sound will be smitten by Gone Like the Cotton.


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I reviewed David Cook’s Digital Vein for KCUR.

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I wrote an extended preview about Emily King for Ink magazine.

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

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The Jorge Arana Trio created a video for “Crime of Passion Fruit.”

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Carlos Henriquez might be my favorite member of Wynton Marsalis’ Jazz at Lincoln Center big band.  The Bronx Pyramid, the bassist’s debut album, is terrific.  RIYL: Eddie Palmieri, bass solos, the Spanish Harlem Orchestra.

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John Ellis and Double-Wide’s Charm is a party.  RIYL: Los Hombres Calientes, New Orleans, Donald Harrison.

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John Blevins’ Matterhorn is RIYL: Snarky Puppy, band nerds, Dave Douglas.

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Danny Grissett’s The In-Between is RIYL: straight-ahead jazz, Kenny Barron, tasteful tedium.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: Roots Magic- Hoodoo Blues

I’ve spent the majority of my life under the impression that I’m the only person on the planet who considers Henry Threadgill’s ”I Can’t Wait Till I Get Home” to be one of the greatest artistic achievements of the 20th century.  I resigned myself to the lonely life of an isolated avant-garde jazz weirdo enthusiast years ago.  A trip to Italy might be in order.  Roots Magic is an Italian quartet that specializes in loving recreations of classic left-of-center American jazz compositions, including Threadgill’s “I Can’t Wait ‘Til I Get Home.”  How does that even happen?  Hoodoo Blues restores my zeal for life on Earth.


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I wrote an extended preview for Run the Jewels’ concert.  Alas, the show disappointed me.  Here’s my review.

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

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A feature about Ron Carlson is among the recent Local Listen segments I’ve contributed to KCUR.

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Last week’s John Gross concert was not exactly what I had in mind.

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Duncan Burnett & the Ministry created a video for ”Junkies”.

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Strange Music released a video for Ces Cru’s ”Letterman”.

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The Xtraordinair$ made a video for ”Best Me”.

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Brian Berg has died.  I was a big fan of his roots-rock band 44 Long in the late 1990s.

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Mark Murphy has died.  I vaguely recall seeing the vocalist perform at a short-lived venue on Southwest Boulevard in the 1990s.

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Cory Wells of Three Dog Knight has died.

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The lineup of the 2016 edition of the Big EarsFestival is extremely impressive.

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Vivian Green’s Vivid is disappointingly dull.  RIYL: Marsha Ambrosius, adult R&B, Anthony Hamilton.  Here’s ”Gets Right Back to My Baby”.

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I saw Noah Preminger perform at the 55 Bar in New York seven months ago.  (My review.)  Not surprisingly, the saxophonist’s new album Pivot: Live at the 55 Bar sounds a lot like what I heard.  RIYL: late Coltrane, fury, Archie Shepp.

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I’m charmed by the Suffers’ Make Some Room.  RIYL: Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings, Houston, the Diplomats of Solid Sound.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Concert Review: Arlo Guthrie at Yardley Hall

I’ve always thought of the people who listen to “Alice’s Restaurant” every Thanksgiving as intemperate masochists.  Arlo Guthrie’s signature song really doesn’t need to be heard more than once in a lifetime. 

Then again, I’ve never been an Arlo fan.  I’d succeeded in avoiding his concerts until Sunday.  I cringed as I bought the ticket that would break my winning streak.

As is often the case, I had it all wrong. 

Once I became acclimated to the nursing home odor that emanated from a few dozen members of the audience of more than 1,000 at Yardley Hall, I thoroughly enjoyed the concert.

Before Arlo and a tasteful band played his biggest hits, Sarah Lee Guthrie performed a charming opening set.  Partly because Arlo implied that he was also sick of the song, I wasn’t even inclined to flee during “Alice’s Restaurant.”  I may or may not have teared up during “Highway In the Wind,” a tribute to Arlo’s late wife Jackie.

Arlo dismissively characterized folk sing-alongs as “all that 'Kumbaya' stuff” near the end of his appearance.  It was a trap.  The sing-alongs that followed swelled my heart. 

Even so, I won’t tolerate any suggestions that “Alice’s Restaurant” be cued up in my presence on Thanksgiving.


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I reviewed the Kansas City debut of Chance the Rapper.

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I reviewed Gregg Allman’s concert at a casino.

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I wrote an extended preview about Passion Pit for Ink.

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I write weekly music previews for The Kansas City Star.

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I reviewed Ron Carlson’s Kind Folk at Plastic Sax.

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The Popper made a Royals-centric remix of “I’m KC.”

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Here’s the video for Tech N9ne’s “Roadkill.”

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Here’s the video for Radkey’s “Glore.”

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Smokin’ Joe Kubek has died.

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I somehow missed the September release of John Scofield’s Past Present.  It’s so good that I’m mourning the weeks that I could have spent listening to the funky collaboration with Joe Lovano, Larry Grenadier and Bill Stewart.  RIYL: Grant Green, soul jazz, Charlie Hunter.

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I endured BET’s “Hip-Hop Awards” broadcast last week.  It was rough sledding.  As usual, the cyphers provided the highlights.  I loved seeing Casey Veggies and Vince Staples and was tickled by the efforts of Erick Sermon, Redman and Keith Murray, but the clear winner was the beat-boxing trio of Doug E. Fresh, Nicole Paris and Rahzel.

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Here’s the trailer for the B.B. King/UGK mashup that the world needs now.

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I’m just beginning to learn that the European jazz/prog releases I’ve written about in recent months aren’t anomalies.  As the kids say, it’s a thing.  My latest discovery is Samuel Hällkvist’s Variety of Live.  Men affiliated with Pink Floyd and King Crimson are among the project’s participants.  RIYL: Terje Rypdal, anti-swing, Soft Machine.

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Joe Ely has an uncommon ability to conjure colorful Tex-Mex atmospheres.  Too many of the songs on Panhandle Rambler, however, are clunky.  RIYL: Jimmie Dale Gilmore, songs about Bob Wills, Butch Hancock.  ”When the Nights Are Cold” is my favorite song on the album.

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I was so tempted by Rhymesayers’ 20th Anniversary Concert that I checked on airfare to Minneapolis.  It’s only $150....

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Alegria de Viver, a new recording featuring the duet of Brazilian vocalist Leny Andrade and New York guitarist Ari Ben-Hur, might be perfect.

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Marbin’s Aggressive Hippies is RIYL: Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey, DIY jazz, Mahavishnu Orchestra.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Review: The 18th & Vine Jazz and Blues Festival

Jazz can seem like an afterthought at the American Jazz Museum’s 18th & Vine Jazz and Blues Festival.

After spending more than nine hours at the annual event on Saturday, I came away with only three jazz performances to document at my Kansas City jazz blog Plastic Sax.  Much of the remainder of my time was dedicated to listening to R&B and blues cover bands.  My notes on a few of the performances are listed in the order of my appreciation.

Jamii
Children playing R&B classics with enthusiasm?  Sold!  Rather than pointing out Jamii’s obvious limitations, I’ll note that I smile at the thought of the cherubs knocking out the Isley Brothers’ “Footsteps in the Dark.”  (Here’s representative footage of a previous performance.)

John Paul and the Hellhounds
The longstanding blues quartet doesn’t do anything that hasn’t done countless times before; they just do it better.

Charlotte Fletcher & Soigné
I’d try to book this band for my wedding reception if I was getting married.  The group’s covers of hits by Labelle, the Crusaders and a Taste of Honey were celebratory.

Langston and Prototype
I appreciated hearing a faithful rendition of Tyrese’s “Shame”, one of my favorite songs of 2015, and samples of Jazmine Sullivan’s undervalued catalog.

Dwele
Prior to Saturday, I thought of Dwele as the vocalist who delivered the hooks on Kanye West classics like ”Flashing Lights”.  I’ll now remember him as loquacious guy who performed only three or four songs during the 30 minutes I spent watching his set. 

Popa Chubby
A lot of people adore burly boogie.  I’m not one of them.


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I reviewed Seether’s concert at the Midland theater last week.

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I’ve never written about music to curry favor with stars, but it’s nice nonetheless that Chance the Rapper has embraced my extended preview of his concert at the Midland theater.

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Here’s the latest batch of the weekly music previews I write for The Kansas City Star and Ink magazine.

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Billy Joe Royal has died.

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I feel like a rich man when I listen to Janet Jackson’s Unbreakable.  The airy production sounds like a billion dollars.  RIYL: Michael Jackson, money, Celine Dion.

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I need to find a way to get to a performance by the Malian band Songhoy Blues.

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Youth Lagoon’s Savage Hills Ballroom sends me back to the era in which I reverently listened to albums by the likes of Mercury Rev and Sparklehorse.  RIYL: drugs, St. Vincent, weeping.  Here’s ”Highway Patrol Stun Gun”.

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Does liking Yo-Yo Ma and Kathryn Stott’s Songs From the Arc of Life and Lang Lang’s Live In Paris make me a middlebrow ninny?

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Rolando Villazón’s Treasures of Bel Canto failed to rouse me.

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St. Germain reduces Malian music to smooth jazz.  And I like it.

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Sullivan Fortner’s Aria is about three notches too polite for me.  RIYL: Branford Marsalis, bespoke suits, Jon Batiste.

(Original images of Jamii, above, and festival grounds, below, by There Stands the Glass.)

Song For Sisyphus: A Remembrance of Phil Woods

Phil Woods was the first angry jazz musician I encountered.  He certainly wasn’t the last.

I recall being titillated by the rage Woods unleashed on impolite people on blankets and in lawn chairs at a free concert sponsored by Kansas City, Missouri, in the mid-’70s. 

I’d never seen a performer act like that. 

As a kid who managed to talk a parent who didn’t have any interest in jazz into driving him to the show (I recall that it was near our home north of the river), I didn’t have much context for what I was witnessing.  But I could tell that it was good.

I was riveted. 

In hindsight, it’s clear to me that Woods’ fiery outing and a free concert by the elegant Roland Hanna at Crown Center in the same time period ignited my tempestuous obsession with jazz.

An appearance at the Folly Theater in 2012 was the last of several times I saw Woods.  I admit to crying in my review of his bittersweet performance.  Woods died on September 29.


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I reviewed the Grisly Hand’s new Flesh & Blood album for KCUR.

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I reviewed a Zappa Plays Zappa concert.

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I wrote an extended preview about KC Psych Fest for Ink magazine.

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

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My review of Eddie Moore and the Outer Circle’s Live in Kansas City album is on page 27 of the October issue of JAM magazine.

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I contributed a Local Listen segment about Mark Lowrey to KCUR.

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I reviewed Matt Villinger’s All Night at Plastic Sax.

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Kansas City’s music nerds have been posting fond recollections about the RecordBar in response to the venue’s tenth anniversary and pending relocation.  One friend claims to have taken in more than 700 performances at the RecordBar.  I don’t keep meticulous records; my number is probably around 225.  I haven’t appreciated everything I’ve seen in the room.  For instance, I detested Mumford & Sons when I caught the soon-to-be-massive band in the club in 2010.  Here are my ten favorite performances at the RecordBar:  Nikka Costa (2006), The National (2005), The People’s Liberation Big Band (2012), V.V. Brown (2010), Marijuana Deathsquads (2014), Mission of Burma (2012), Peter Schlamb’s Electric Tinks (2015), American Music Club (2008), Blind Pilot (2009) and Helmet (2015).

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The Buhs created a representative promotional video.

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Wilton Felder of the Crusaders has died.

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Pop quiz: which two artists have had two #1 albums on Billboard’s Top 200 chart in 2015?  Why, it’s D---e and Future, of course.  As I detailed in my notes about his 2013 concert at the Sprint Center, I loathe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  Even so, I have to admit that I enjoy much of his latest chart-topper What a Time To Be Alive. 

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I admire Ron Carter’s big band album My Personal Songbook.  Note that I didn’t say I liked it.  RIYL: Oliver Nelson, swangin’, the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra.

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I recently discovered The Milken Archive, "the largest collection of American Jewish music ever assembled."  I’ve heard almost none it, an oversight I intend to rectify.

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Children of the Light features Wayne Shorter’s band without their leader.  The trio of Danilo Pérez, John Patitucci and Brian Blade is in top form.

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A recent appearance in Olathe reminded me that Shemekia Copeland is really smart.  That’s partly why I can’t help but think that she’s patronizing the blues audience on Outskirts of Love.  I like it anyway.

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Evan Parker performed in St. Louis last week.  There’s not an audience for the British free jazz artist in Kansas City.  Ninth Square, Parker’s new album with Joe Morris and Nate Wooley, is RIYL: skronking, Sonny Sharrock, screeching.

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I’d been looking forward to the release of the New Mastersounds’ Made For Pleasure, but now that it’s here I’m just not feeling it.  RIYL: St. Paul & the Broken Bones, nice tries, the Budos Band.

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I can’t resist the cheap nostalgia of Graveyard’s Innocence & Decadence.  RIYL: Thin Lizzy, 1975, UFO.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Talkin’ Out the Side of My Neck

I was denied entrance to the Power & Light District last night. 

The inner sanctum of the entertainment area had reached its capacity of 3,500 for a free concert by Cameo.  I stood among more than 1,000 disappointed people who were also shut out.  After listening to the brilliant band for about twenty minutes as I verified that all external doors were locked and that every security guard took his job seriously, I dropped into the RecordBar. 

Johnny Hamil led a “gawdy cartoonnoirjazz” (his words and stylization) band for a handful of fans, friends and family members.  After marveling at the blood moon from the venue’s smoking patio, I moved a few blocks west on Westport Road.

An adorably sincere little punk show at Records With Merritt provided me with the thrill I’d been seeking.  Rather than feeling self-conscious about being the oldest member of the audience by at least twenty years, I took pleasure in knowing that I was the only listener who had attended performances by Sonic Youth and Cameo thirty years ago. 


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I'm featured in Sylvia Maria Gross' otherwise outstanding examination of The Popper’s "I'm KC."

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I previewed Vince Staples’ concert at the Granada for Ink magazine.

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I write weekly music previews for The Kansas City Star.

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I previewed Ernest James Zydeco’s album release party for KCUR.

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I reviewed Many a New Day: Karrin Allyson Sings Rodgers and Hammerstein at Plastic Sax.

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Tech N9ne has a new video for ”No K”.

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I’ve long adored K.T. Oslin.  Even so, I can’t tell if Simply, a brief album of remakes, is a last gasp or a welcome comeback.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: Christian Scott- Stretch Music

I’m no longer crestfallen that Christian Scott isn’t performing in Kansas City on his current tour.  I expected his new release to expand on the exciting advances he made on Christian aTunde Adjuah, my #2 album of 2012.  Instead, it’s a tedious retrenchment.

Stretch Music is billed as "a genre-blind musical form that stretches the rhythmic, melodic and harmonic conventions of jazz to encompass as many musical forms, languages, thought processes and cultures as possible."

The project reeks of unflattering me-too-ism.  Scott seems to be trying to unnecessarily prove that hip-hop, rock and jazz can coexist.  He’s merely rehashing the work of Flying Lotus, Nicholas Payton, Miles Davis and Gil Evans. 

I expect Scott to be a leader.  He’s opted to be a follower.  Unless Frank Ocean or Kanye West stumbles, Stretch Music will be the most disappointing album of 2015.


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I reviewed Citizen Cope’s concert at Crossroads KC.

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Here are the weekly music previews I write for The Kansas City Star.

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I spotlighted Making Movies’ Carnaval for Ink magazine.

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I contributed a Local Listen segment about Making Movies to KCUR.

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Bobby Watson and his touring band thrilled me at the Folly Theater on Friday.  Here’s my review.

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A man seated near me softly snored through much of the Kansas City Symphony’s concert on Sunday afternoon.  The tiresome program didn’t excite me either.  I’m more of a Berg: Lyric Suite; Wellesz: Sonnets By Elizabeth Barrett-Browning guy.  Here’s the intriguing EPK for the new collaboration between the Emerson String Quartet and Renée Fleming.

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I assume that Shannon and the Clams and the critics who extol the band are trolling.  Gone By the Dawn is dismal.  RIYL: The Shaggs, the first rehearsal of an unpromising garage-rock band, Jonathan Richman at his most insufferable.

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The subtleties of The Evolution of Oneself initially eluded me.  Repeated listens have revealed that the trio of Orrin Evans, Christian McBride and Karriem Riggins have created one of the year’s best jazz albums.  Recommended to people who appreciate both Ray Brown and the Wu-Tang Clan.

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I love everything about Windhand’s Grief’s Infernal Flower.  RIYL: Slayer, cemeteries, Pallbearer.

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Mary Halvorson’s Meltframe does nothing for me.  RIYL: Robert Fripp, dissertations about music theory, Bill Frisell.

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I don’t have anything bad to say about Keith Richards’ Crosseyed Heart.  RIYL: Ian McLagan, lions in the winter, Chuck Berry.

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Steve Van Zandt’s maximalist production of Introducing Darlene Love is too much for me.  Here’s the overblown ”Forbidden Nights”.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Una Copita de Ron

I’m beginning to suspect that I’m on the wrong continent.  The joy I felt on a recent trip to Chile and at a concert by a cumbia band on Friday has me rethinking my place on the planet.

My Spanish may be atrocious, but most everything else feels right about a potential move to the south. 

I didn’t understand what a member of the dynamic show band Tropicalísimo Apache said when he pointed me out during Friday’s free concert at Barney Allis Plaza.  If he was encouraging a brave woman to dance with me, his request went unheeded.

No matter.  I was so enthralled with the expertise with which the Mexican band played the music of Columbia that I’m ”Una Copita de Ron” away from buying a one-way ticket to Bogotá or Santiago. 


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Here are my most recent weekly music picks for The Kansas City Star and Ink.

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I previewed the Crossroads Music Fest for Ink and contributed to a review of the event for The Kansas City Star.

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An item about Second Hand King is among my recent contributions to KCUR.

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I caught a portion of the Prairie Village Jazz Festival at Plastic Sax.  Here are my notes.

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A vibrant mix of Afrobeat, soukous, rock and electronica, Mbongwana Star’s From Kinshasa is stunning.  Here’s ”Malukayi” (Tip via Big Steve.)

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I’m unable to resist the Go! Team’s charms.  Listening to The Scene Between gives me the same feeling I had when I was seven years old and watching a new episode of my favorite Saturday morning cartoon.  RIYL: the Magnetic Fields, Sid and Marty Krofft, the Crystals.  Here’s the title track.

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I didn’t catch last year’s Chick Corea/Bela Fleck tour.  The concert document Two indicates that you had to be there.

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Live in Cuba, the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra’s new 137-minute album, alternately thrilled and bored me.  RIYL: certain Grammy winners, Wynton, big bands.

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Anne-Sophie Mutter gets it.  The Club Album is everything it’s meant to be.  RIYL: populism (of a sort), Vivaldi, marketing genius.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Funky Céilí

I planned on spending all day at the KC Irish Fest when I forked over $18 to gain admission to the popular event on Saturday.  Succumbing to crankiness rooted in heat and sobriety, I left after just a few hours.

A solo set by Larry Kirwan of Black 47 was the highlight of my experience.  His strident political songs were balanced by old favorites like “40 Shades of Blue” and the minor 1991 hit "Funky Céilí (Bridie's Song)".

Only one of the five additional performances I witnessed is worth mentioning.   Kiana Weber, the fiddler of Gaelic Storm, led a session titled Transatlantic Unplugged with Kiana.  The largely acoustic jam included guests from the festival’s top acts such as Socks in the Frying Pan, We Banjos 3, the Elders and Flashpoint. 

The lively collaborations provided a nice survey of everything I wasn’t willing to stick around to hear.


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I write weekly music previews for The Kansas City Star.

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I previewed Lee “Scratch” Perry’s show at the Riot Room for Ink.

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I reviewed Michael Pagán’s The Ottawa Sesions album at Plastic Sax.

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Rico Rodriguez has died.

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Ruby Amanfu’s Standing Still is the best Chris Isaak album I’ve heard in years.  I’m down with anyone who covers both Bob Dylan and Kanye West.  Her interpretation of the Wilco/Bragg/Guthrie gem “One By One” is magnificent.  Here’s a nice interview/performance video.

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I purchased a batch of Bryan Ferry solo albums as cutouts in the early ‘80s.  The posh atmosphere of those elegant recordings was foreign to me.  I still can’t relate more than 30 years later.  Although Dan Bejar doesn’t have much of a voice, Destroyer’s Poison Season reminds me of those Ferry albums.  RIYL: Belle and Sebastian, ennui, Gerry Rafferty.

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Skullduggery, a 2014 collaboration between Joe McPhee and Universal Indian, is a treat.  RIYL: Albert Ayler, skronk, Archie Shepp.

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Myrkur’s M has a lot of great moments.  RIYL: Trio Mediaeval, angels and demons, Celtic Frost.

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Much of Ghost B.C.’s Meloria sounds more like the Moody Blues than Black Sabbath.  Not my thing.

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Fidlar’s Too is just as engaging as the skeezy punk band’s first album.  RIYL: Blink-182, intoxicants, Dead Milkmen.  Here’s ”West Coast”.

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I have only one thing to say about Motörhead’s Bad Magic album.

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Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey’s The Battle For Earth is RIYL: Augustus Pablo, freaky jamz, Galactic.  Here’s ”Appropriation Song”.

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George Clinton and affiliates like Bootsy Collins sounded cool when they rambled about the cosmic virtues of funk in the 1970s.  When Dâm-Funk and his cohorts do the same on his new album Invite the Light, they comes across as dorks.  Invite the Light is really good when no one’s talking or singing. RIYL: 1975, Junie Morrison, funkateers.

(Original image of the Dublin band Tupelo at the KC Irish Fest by There Stands the Glass.)

Land Speed Records

I’m in the process of culling rather than expanding my music collection.  Yet I couldn’t resist checking out an estate sale a few miles from my house last week.  Targeted online advertisements promised that thousands of vinyl albums, compact discs and books would be available.  I almost became physically aroused by what I encountered.  A man- presumably departed, RIP- had amassed a comprehensive collection centered on mainstream jazz.  My initial haul from the mother lode included the Mosaic box sets pictured here at $8 a pop.  I truthfully told my life partner that we could resell the limited edition titles on the Rolls Royce of jazz reissue labels for over $80 each, but I don’t think I can part with these gems.  I returned twice to scoop up several dozen obscurities by the likes of Morton Feldman, Lee Konitz and Steve Swallow.


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I wrote an extended concert preview about Little Big Town for Ink and brief music previews for The Kansas City Star and Ink.

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I contributed to a Local Listen segment about Shooting Star to KCUR.  (For the record, my text was altered.  I wouldn’t frame the band’s history in those terms.)

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I document a pilgrimage I made while in New York at Plastic Sax.

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Samuel Ramey may have been the primary draw at the Wichita Grand Opera’s production of Turandot at Yardley Hall yesterday, but it was Yunnie Park’s performance that floored me.

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Delbert McClinton’s cover of Ray Sharpe’s “Linda Lu” filled me with joy at the Paola Roots Fest on Saturday.  Shemekia Copeland also delivered.

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I had a good time at Hmph’s instore at Mills Record Company last week.

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Sie Lieben Maschinen created a video for ”Clever Work”.

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I’m all about Charles Gayle’s Christ Everlasting.  RIYL: Cecil Taylor, transcendence, Anthony Braxton.

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The Weeknd’s Beauty Behind the Madness sounds like a Michael Jackson impersonator singing over watered-down Kanye West beats.  While it’s better than the output of most pop stars, the album is hardly the important work of art many pontificators would have you believe.

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Joell Ortiz’s Human is shockingly good.  I suppose I should have gone to his show at the Riot Room earlier this month.  Here’s "Lil’ Piggies".

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The corny elements of Revive Music Presents Supreme Sonacy undermine the exciting aspects of the survey of young jazz artists.

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Just as I was beginning to wonder if Myra Melford’s appearance at Take Five Coffee + Bar really deserved to top my June listing of My Favorite Performances of 2015 (So Far), I stumbled across her free (in both senses of thew word) Live at The Stone EP.  It’s wonderful.

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Folktronica (ugh) ensemble Haiku Salut manages to encapsulate much of what I intensely dislike in contemporary music.  While I’m hating, I’ll add that Charlie Puth’s “Marvin Gaye” makes me want to throw myself under my lawnmower.

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The good stuff on Eligh’s 80 HRTZ is really good.  RIYL: Aesop Rock, words, Busdriver.  Here’s ”808”.

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I’ve dismissed Aaron Diehl as a young fogey in this space, but Space, Time, Continuum is undeniably nice.  RIYL: Benny Golson, expensive suits, Joe Temperley.

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Contrary to a headline I recently spotted, Maddie & Tae aren’t “Nashville rebels.”  Start Here is RIYL: Hunter Hayes, radio hits, Florida Georgia Line.

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Wild Dance, the latest effort of the Enrico Rava Quartet, is thrilling.  RIYL: Terje Rypdal,ECM , Steve Turre.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Silent Movies Make More Money

I bought a $15 ticket to be a part of the in-crowd at Madisen Ward and the Mama Bear’s joyous concert at the Midland theater last week.  The audience of 1,500 was the biggest I’ve seen for any single locally based artist in the past three years aside from Tech N9ne, the Kansas City Jazz Orchestra, Joyce DiDonato or the Kansas City Symphony.  Here’s Tim Finn’s review.


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I reviewed last night’s Incubus, Deftones, Death From Above 1979 and the Bots concert.

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I reviewed Radkey’s Dark Black Makeup for KCUR.

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I contributed a Local Listen segment about Samantha Fish to KCUR.

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I play the role of Debbie Downer at the Charlie Parker Celebration.

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Even with the lousy sound on some of the later stuff, Miles Davis At Newport 1955-1975: The Bootleg Series Vol. 4 serves as a spectacular survey of jazz history.

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Nicholas Payton plays a lot of keyboards on the engaging Letters.  RIYL: Kamasi Washington, grooving, Stanley Cowell.

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I can’t decide if Tunde Olaniran’s Transgressor sounds more like an indie-rock version of Beyoncé or a pop version of TV On the Radio.  I also can’t decide if I like it.

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Omar Souleyman’s Bahdeni Nami is my kind of party.

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The Foreign Exchange’s Tales From the Land of Milk and Honey is RIYL: Soul II Soul, grown-and-sexy music, Bobbi Humphrey.  Here’s the video for the somewhat unrepresentative “Asking For a Friend.” 

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Oleta Adams, Chaka Khan and Nancy Wilson are among the guest vocalists on Terri Lyne Carrington’s The Mosaic Project: Love and Soul.   Here’s the EPK.

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I listened to Luke Bryan’s new album.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: Troyka- Ornithophobia

My defenses were down when I happened upon Troyka last week.  The British trio combines the prog-rock wankery of King Crimson, the geeky jazz fusion of Billy Cobham and the fluid modern jazz of Flying Lotus.  I melted within minutes.  To quote an irritating meme: “shut up and take my money.”  The trailer for the new album Ornithophobia and the snippets streaming at Amazon reveal the source of my latest guilty pleasure. 


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I reviewed Chris Brown’s concert at the Sprint Center.

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Miguel's outing at the Midland theater last night is likely to be favorite concert of 2015. Here's my review.

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I contributed a Local Listen segment about Lonnie McFadden to KCUR.

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I laud Hmph and the Jorge Arana Trio at Plastic Sax.

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I’ve never seen the Colombian star Carlos Vives perform.  His new live album indicates that I’m really missing out.  Here’s an exciting version of the irresistible “Como Le Gusta a Tu Cuerpo”.

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Tokyo Adagio, a duet featuring Charlie Haden and Gonzalo Rubalcaba recorded in 2005, is predictably enchanting.

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The Internet’s Ego Death sounds incredible.  Too bad Syd tha Kid can’t write a decent song.  Or am I wrong?  Here’s ”Girl”.  RIYL: Frank Ocean, headphones, Teena Marie. 

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Pictures and Paintings, Charlie RIch’s last recorded statement, is one of my favorite albums.  Boz Scaggs’ A Fool to Care is a similarly sentimental work.  RIYL: James Booker, fond farewells, Curtis Mayfield.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Ghost Stories

Partly because I’m not a 17-year-old Twitter fiend, the most recent spat between Ghostface Killah and Action Bronson doesn’t excite me.  Yet as someone who purchased the first Wu-Tang Clan album as a new release in 1993, I’m extremely interested in Ghost’s ongoing vitality.  The longtime favorite of There Stands the Glass has released two of the best albums of 2015.  The jazz-based Sour Soul and the R&B-oriented Twelve Reasons to Die II feature Ghost’s masterful flow and hilariously imaginative lyrics set to riveting music. 


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I reviewed Phish’s concert at Starlight Theatre.

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I contributed a Local Listen segment about A.J. Gaither to KCUR.

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I write about my final visit to Take Five Coffee + Bar in Overland Park at Plastic Sax.  The August 15 closure leaves the Kansas City area with a single jazz venue that charges cover on weekends.

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Billy Sherrill has died.

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Sean Price has died.

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Black Cat, the new album from Joplin's Never Shout Never, sounds like the year's best Taylor Swift album.

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The high quality of Wilco’s Star Wars caught me by surprise.  RIYL: Lou Reed, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Guided By Voices.

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I listened to the Chemical Brothers’ Born in the Echoes the morning after spending the previous evening at a Phish concert.  Both ensembles make whimsical psychedelic party music.  The distinctions between the British duo and the Vermont noodlers are marginal.

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Lamb of God’s Sturm Und Drang is a by-the-numbers metal album.  Works for me: I like counting.  RIYL: amazing back stories, Pantera, graying metal bands.

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Wayne Horvitz’s Some Places Are Forever Afternoon is RIYL: Gil Evans, third stream, Anthony Davis.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: Charlie Hunter- Let the Bells Ring On

The elusive audience for jazz is hiding in plain view in 2015.  Millions are appreciating Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly.  Hundreds of thousands more are dancing at concerts by the likes of Umphrey’s McGee.  Charlie Hunter must wonder what he has to do to get a single percentage of those people to pay attention to his funky new album Let the Bells Ring On.  It’s a jam album for jazz fans and jazz album for jam band aficionados.  It’s also begging for a hip-hop remix.  The populist sound of guitarist Hunter, trombonist Curtis Fowlkes and drummer Bobby Previte on ”These People?” is indicative of the album’s generous vibe.


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I reviewed Dwight Yoakam’s concert in the Power & Light District.

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I reviewed Samantha Fish’s Wild Heart for KCUR.

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I contributed a Local Listen segment about the Philistines to KCUR.

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Buddy Emmons has died.

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Lynn Anderson has died.

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Vic Firth has died.

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Wayne Carson has died.

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I listened to the reissue of In Through the Out Door over the weekend.  I didn’t comprehend until now that the Led Zeppelin album is an extended goof on Elvis.

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I like the sound and feel of Ashes & Dust, Warren Haynes’ collaboration with Railroad Earth.  Too bad about the dodgy songs.

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I just discovered Mathias Eick.  Here’s a live performanc of ”Hem”.  RIYL: European jazz, ECM, fiddle plucking.

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Until I listened to the compilation Come and Get It: The Best of Apple Records a few days ago, I’d never heard Brute Force’s ”King of Fuh”.  I wish I’d known about the novelty song when I was young enough to appreciate it.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: Jill Scott- Woman

My world changed when I picked up a Japanese compilation of Stax singles that introduced me to the likes of William Bell, the Bar-Kays, the Dramatics and Frederick Knight in the early 1980s. I don’t know how or when Jill Scott came to love those same songs, but it’s clear that she also knows them inside and out.  Woman is a vibrant tribute to the classic sound of Stax Records.  The video for “You Don’t Know” will persuade skeptics.


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I didn’t expect my  review of Van Halen’s concert last week to instigate a classic rock rebellion.  The show struck me as unequivocally terrible.  It ranks among performances by Guy, Rick Ross and Soundgarden as one of the worst efforts by a major act I’ve witnessed in recent years.  The outraged reactions to my observations compelled The Kansas City Star to issue a disclaimer.

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I also reviewed a concert by Graham Nash.

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An item about Be/Non is my latest contribution to KCUR’s Local Listen series.

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The Popper’s ”I’m KC” may be cheesy, but it’s my song of the summer.

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Kutt Calhoun’s EP Kuttin Loose doesn’t contain any surprises.  RIYL: early Tech N9ne, rap beefs, gangsta sh*t.

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Howard Rumsey has died.  Here’s Marc Myers’ remembrance.

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David Banner’s “My Uzi” might be the best song of 2015.  It’s not about what you think it’s about.

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Torche’s Restarter is likely to be my favorite rock album of 2015.  RIYL: Nothing, sludge, Electric Wizard.

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Blue Dialect, a collaboration between bassist Mario Pavone, pianist Matt Mitchell and drummer Tyshawn Sorey, is astounding.  RIYL: Anthony Braxton, out, Myra Melford.

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Ashley Monroe’s The Blade is a mess.  Only three or four of the tracks on the scattershot album are on point.  RIYL: uncertainty, Sturgill Simpson, indecision.

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There’s nothing wrong with Richard Thompson’s Still, but I don’t intend to give the relatively unremarkable new album a second hearing.  I’ll count on There Stands the Glass readers to point out any hidden gems beyond the novelty goof “Guitar Heroes.”

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Way Down Yonder On the Chattahoochee

One of the most common transgressions made by music fans is judging a genre by the people it supposedly attracts.

I encounter it daily:  Country fans are drunken homophobes.  Only elitists listen to jazz.  Hip-hop heads are illiterate. 

I’m also guilty of making rash generalizations.  Thankfully, I caught myself before I responded to a friend's direct provocation regarding Sturgill Simpson (a musician I appreciate).  I was going to suggest that most members of the audience at Simpson's concert in Kansas City last week were status-conscious bandwagoners who wouldn’t be caught dead at an Alan Jackson show.

That wouldn't have been nice.

Jackson's music may not be worthy of consideration by Pitchfork obsessives, but it will always have a place in my life.  In the parlance of 2015, plenty of the songs on his new album Angels and Alcohol are “basic.”  I'm not bothered that the album demonstrates no musical or ideological progression.

“Mexico, Tequila and Me” may be just as tired as its title suggests, but I genuinely appreciate the cliches of “Jim and Jack and Hank.”  I also think that the spiritual cheese of “God Paints” is delicious.  And the title track- easily the album’s best song- hits close to home.

Now, for the rest of the story: I wore a pink shirt to an Alan Jackson concert in 2007.  Harassed for hours by drunken homophobes, I thought I’d be killed in Bonner Springs, Kansas.


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I reviewed Tech N9ne’s Special Effects for KCUR.

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I reviewed a concert by Keith Sweat and Blackstreet featuring Teddy Riley and Dave Hollister.

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I reviewed a concert by the Dave Matthews Band.

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A segment about Jeff Black is among the recent Local Listen items I've contributed to KCUR.

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Shades of Jade’s new single ”That One” is RIYL: Brian McKnight, Kansas City neo-soul, Bilal.

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Bummer’s punishing Spank EP is shockingly great.  The Olathe band’s new EP is RIYL: Paw, blind rage, Tad.

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The Kansas City Star recalls the infamous Ozark Music Festival of 1974.

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Joan Sebastian has died.  I reviewed his concert at Cricket Wireless Amphitheater last year.

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Max Richter’s Sleep is “an eight-hour lullaby.”

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Man Plans God Laughs is the title track of Public Enemy’s new album.

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Heads of State’s Search For Peace is a standard-issue post-Coltrane jazz date.  RIYL: Gary Bartz, old school jazz, Larry Willis.

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”God bless Rod Stewart.”

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: Bilal- In Another Life

As an aficionado of the most strung out work of Sly Stone, Erykah Badu and Prince, I immediately took to Bilal’s In Another Life.  The R&B veteran can’t be bothered with the coherent concept of songs on his new album, but producer Adrian Younge maintains a powerful groove.  I love it.  The disturbing video for ”Money Over Love”, a track that features Kendrick Lamar, offers a fair representation of the contents of In Another Life.


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I reviewed a concert by Third Eye Blind and Dashboard Confessional.

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I’ve been negligent in linking to my work for Ink.  Last week’s extended concert preview examined the work of Krystle Warren. 

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Vince Bell recently uploaded an informal new performance of his ”Kansas City Song”.

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Miguel isn’t as good as Frank Ocean, Prince or Marvin Gaye.  Yet he’s better than Pharrell Williams, Robin Thicke and Daft Punk on the new album Wildheart.

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The video for Vince Staples’ ”Señorita is devastating.  I also admire Staples’ new album Summertime ‘06.

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Paolo Bordogna’s Tutto Buffo is a hoot.  RIYL: Rossini, high drama, Italy.

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A few of the poorly recorded Southern funk jams on Loose The Funk: Rarities From The Jewel/Paula Vault make life worth living.  Most of the tracks are second-rate B.B. King imitations, Albert King ripoffs or stale boogaloo workouts.  RIYL: Isley Brothers, sweat, Joe Simon.

(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)

Album Review: Downtown Boys- Full Communism

The Clash was my favorite band from 1979 to 1983.  Hip-hop and Cut the Crap made the Clash a far less important part of my life in the mid-’80s.

Full Communism, the new album by Downtown Boys, provides me with the same sort of jolt I once received from a new album by the Clash.

I don’t necessarily concur with the Providence band’s politics, but exposure to tear gas in South America last month has made me more receptive to radicalism.  Strident Full Communism songs such as "Wave of History" are balanced by amusing tirades like “Tall Boys.”

Punx not dead.


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I reviewed Failure’s concert at Liberty Hall.

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I featured the AM Trio on KCUR’s weekly Local Listen segment.

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Justus West, a Kansas City, Kansas, teen, remade “Alone Again (Naturally).”

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I listen to a lot of Red Dirt country acts.  Most are interchangeable.  Jered Deck, formerly of Green Corn Revival, has tapped into something both vital and traditional with ”17 Miles”.  The hearty song is RIYL: Will Hoge, Gaslight Anthem, Joe Ely.

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Mark Guiliana’s Family First doesn’t do much for me.  RIYL: drummer-led jazz albums, Kamasi Washington, solos for the sake of solos.

(Original image of a mural in New York City by There Stands the Glass.)