Album Review: Anja Lechner and François Couturier- Lontano

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

I wondered if I was on my deathbed four hours after receiving a seasonal flu shot three days ago.  Thankfully, the alarming diminishment of my lifeblood quickly dissipated.  The tone of Lontano, the new album by German cellist Anja Lechner and French pianist François Couturier, matches the weary sense of resignation I experienced.  Fluttering between planes of existence, I was overcome by bittersweet reflections of my time on Earth.  A recent 82-minute concert by the duo exudes a similar otherworldliness even without the signature ethereal ECM Records ambiance enhancing Lontano.

Jon Gibson, 1940-2020

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I had only a passing familiarity with Jon Gibson’s name when he died this week.  In its obituary of Gibson, Pitchfork notes he “performed in the premieres of Terry Riley’s In C in 1964 and Steve Reich’s Drumming in the early 1970s... Gibson was also a founding member of the Philip Glass Ensemble.”  Are you kidding me!  Gibson was the Zelig of American minimalism.  

I’m confident I was on the cusp of catching up with Gibson.  I traveled to outsider music festivals in 2018 and 2019.  And I heard Max Richter and the American Contemporary Music Ensemble in Austin last year.  Three Bang on a Can Marathons and viewings of Glass’ “Akhnaten” and "Einstein on the Beach" expanded my ears even further in recent months. 

The enlightening experiences primed me for Gibson’s Songs & Melodies, 1973-77.  Although it was released in February, I only investigated the compilation upon receiving news of Gibson’s death. 

Each of the seven compositions on the 80-minute reissue is more transparently emotional than the works of Reich and Glass.  The varying instrumentation and textures are made congruent by Gibson’s minimalism-meets-New Age treatments.  The particularly expressive "Melody IV" allows me to properly grieve the loss of the important artist.

Album Review: Metz- Atlas Vending

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As an impressionable teen during the punk revolution, I bought into rigid credos I now know are hogwash.  The Canadian band Metz breaks a few of the bogus rules on the opening track of its new album Atlas Vending.  "Pulse" overlays what could be the catchiest riff from Led Zeppelin’s sinuous “Dancing Days” over bleak Gang of Four-style scaffolding.  True punks know that’s against the rules!  Metz’s willful disregard of the dilapidated form’s restrictive codes is invigorating.  Unrelenting rage and artistic abandon makes Metz one of the relatively few purveyors of guitar-based rock that doesn’t sound ridiculous in 2020.

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I continue to aggravate Kansas City jazz pollyannas at Plastic Sax.

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Opera update: Although necessity dictated I slightly expand my parameters, the streak is still alive.  I recommend the remarkable treatment Staatsoper Hannover gives to Handel's gorgeous “oratorio Il trionfo del tempo e del disinganno.”  The drab production of Beethoven’s “Fidelio” I began watching during lunch today will be #207 in 207 days.

Album Review: Marilyn Crispell and Angelica Sanchez- How to Turn the Moon

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Instinct implores me to flee when I spot more than one piano on a stage.  Multiple pianos are almost always a terrible idea.  I was incensed when Jay McShann’s elegant simplicity was diluted by fellow keyboardist Ralph Sutton at a concert decades ago.  And I’m still traumatized by an ill-advised tribute to Phineas Newborn Jr. featuring pianists Donald Brown, Geoff Keezer, Harold Mabern, Mulgrew Miller and James Williams.

Less is almost always more, but I’m making an exception for How to Turn the Moon. The new album of piano duets features Marilyn Crispell in the right channel and Angelica Sanchez in the left channel.  Heard through speakers, the album alternates between dynamic blasts of righteous skronk and quiet meditations on entropy.  The distinct sound field revealed by headphones offers a far more nuanced experience.

The thoughtful interactions aren’t limited to 166 keys.  The musicians probe the guts of their pianos on “Space Junk” and sound as if they’re tormenting harpsichords on “Ancient Dream.”  While tracks including “Windfall Light” and “Free In Web” brush against jazz, most of the improvisations on How to Turn the Moon are entirely free from swing.  Crispell and Sanchez’s vanquishing of my fight-or-flight impulse may compel me to reconsider all of my ingrained musical biases.

I'm Going Home

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News of the deaths of Johnny Nash, Eddie Van Halen and Reverend John Wilkins hit me like a sorrowful triple-whammy yesterday.  Yet a report about the premature death of a family member hours later truly devastated me.  That’s why I’m not listening to “Eruption” or “I Can See Clearly Now” today.  Instead, I’m taking solace in the Memphis gospel of the Wilkins clan.  Discovering the cryptic country blues songs of Robert Wilkins including his famous "That's No Way to Get Along" thrilled me decades ago.  His music continues to inspire me.  I raved about You Can’t Hurry God, the debut album of Robert’s son Reverend John Wilkins at There Stands the Glass in 2010.  And I just learned of the September release of Trouble, Wilkins’ solid second album.  The best part?  The prominent contributions of three of Robert’s talented granddaughters suggests the inspiring Wilkins family tradition will continue.

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I defended my daily opera initiative on KCUR’s Up To Date program yesterday.

When I Think About the Good Love You Gave Me

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Rendered senseless by a regrettable quantity of liquid courage, I’d go with “I’m Your Puppet” or “Cry Like a Baby” at a bar’s karaoke night.  As with many Dan Penn compositions, the melodies and lyrics are so ingratiating that sympathetic people would likely mask my caterwauling by heartily singing along.  Furthermore, both familiar classics justify the ridiculous gesticulating that come naturally to me.  Penn, 78, the writer or co-writer of the Southern soul classics “Do Right Woman, Do Write Man,” “It Tears Me Up,” “Rainbow Road” and “The Dark End of the Street” in addition to “I’m Your Puppet” and Cry Like a Baby,” released another set of lived-in story songs in June.  The unassuming Living on Mercy is packed with gems worthy of Penn’s legacy.  Soul revivalists and honky tonk traditionalists would do well to incorporate “Soul Connection” and “I Do” into their repertoires.  I’ve already added the graphic heartbreak of "Blue Motel" to my hypothetical karaoke routine.

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The Kansas City musician Steve Phillips has died.  All the reports I’ve seen focus on the guitarist’s membership in the Celtic rock band The Elders.  I first became aware of Phillips through Steve, Bob & Rich’s frequent performances at the Westport club Blayney’s in the 1980s.  The trio became the core of the hit-making heartland rock band The Rainmakers after my one-time associate Peter Lubin signed the musicians to Mercury Records.

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The only thing worse than absorbing a hurtful insult is the gnawing suspicion the dismissal is warranted.  I began an impertinent analysis of the listlessness bedeviling Kansas City’s jazz scene at Plastic Sax.

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An extremely imaginative staging of Jean-Philippe Rameau’s “Les Indes Galantes” demonstrates how an archaic 300-year-old opera can be made relevant.  The dazzling German production was the 196th installment of my daily opera marathon.

Well, You Needn’t

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I revere Thelonious Monk.  So why didn’t I join the rapturous chorus of giddy anticipation for Palo Alto?  The release of the live 1968 recording is widely hailed as one of the most momentous jazz events of the year.  For starters, I already own live sets by Monk’s quartet of saxophonist Charlie Rouse, bassist Larry Gales and Ben Riley.  It seemed silly to flip my lid over another session.  The pages dedicated to the unlikely high school gig are among the most interesting sections of Robin D.G. Kelley’s essential but often tedious 2009 biography of the icon.  The backstory is further explored in a podcast promoting Palo Alto that’s almost as interesting as the actual recording.  Still, any additional documentation of the singular American genius is a cause for celebration.  I suppose I’m finally singing from the same hymnbook after all.

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I provide context for We The People’s new album in my review of Misunderstood at Plastic Sax.

Fervent Osculation

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Satirical “Any Functioning Adult” campaign signs aren’t particularly helpful in this election cycle.  The gag dismisses real problems that aren’t laughing matters.  Besides, I feel as if I’ve only begun to come of age in recent weeks.  My daily opera initiative during the pandemic altered my worldview.  I’ve endured a lot of sentimental hooey, irrelevant relics, trite diversions and yes, boatloads of pretentiousness, in a quest to discover a handful of works that have enhanced my humanity and lifted a heretofore invisible veil of ignorance.

Operas including Wagner’s Der Ring des Nibelungen, Mozart’s “Die Zauberflöte” and Strauss’ “Salome” are among the essential cultural touchstones for anyone aspiring to become a fully informed global citizen.  My prior obliviousness of these essential works shames me.  Only now do I feel as the dimension in which thoroughly educated people function is coming into focus.

“Einstein on the Beach”- the 189th opera in a binge that’s closing in on 200 productions- isn’t indispensable.  Yet a willful surrender to all five hours of Philip Glass’ 1976 work transmuted me into a state of enlightened acquiescence.  Many of my acquaintances might argue that I’m still not a “functioning adult.”  I may lack maturity and refinement, but I’m well on my way to becoming an enlightened barbarian.

September 2020 Recap: A Monthly Exercise in Critical Transparency

Screenshot of the English National Opera’s production of Benjamin Britten’s “Death in Venice” by There Stands the Glass.

Top Five Albums

1. Prince- Sign O’ The Times (Super Deluxe)

Eight hours of electrifying brilliance.

2. Steve Arrington- Down to the Lowest Terms: The Soul Sessions

The glorious comeback of the famed funkateer.

3. The Gospel Truth: The Complete Singles Collection

My review.

4. Ainon- Drought

My review.

5. Deftones- Ohms

Veterans in fighting form.

Top Five Songs

1. Alicia Keys featuring Khalid- "So Done"

Me too.

2. Elizabeth Cook- “Stanley by God Terry”

Dim lights, thick smoke and loud, loud music.

3. Tyler Childers- "Long Violent History"

Southern man.

4. Conway the Machine featuring Flee Lord, Havoc and Lloyd Banks- "Juvenile Hell"

Ain’t no cure for the summertime blues.

5. Gillian Welch- "Picasso"

Both recently released sets of “lost” material are astonishingly excellent.

Top Five Livestreams

1. Bad Bunny- atop a bus in New York City

2. Midwest Chamber Ensemble- at BRC Audio Productions

3. Gladys Knight and Patti LaBelle- Verzuz battle

4. Melissa Aldana Quartet- at Smalls

5. Hyde Park Jazz Festival (Alexis Lombre Quartet, Greg Ward’s Rogue Parade, etc.)

I conducted the same exercise in August, July, June, May, April, March, February and January.

Krizzmas Time Is Here

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Krizz Kaliko summarizes his unusual career in a few bars on "S.O.B.", a dyspeptic song on his new release Legend: Fans don't give a damn if I put fifty on my wrist/All I gotta do is chop/But I don't make the hottest list.../My aesthetics pathetic/I look like I'm pregnant.

The man born Samuel William Christopher Watson IV in 1974 plays second fiddle to Tech N9ne in the Strange Music camp.  Yet as I’ve asserted for years, Kaliko is the secret sauce at the Lee’s Summit, Missouri, based empire.  In addition to singing, rapping and dancing at a high level, Kaliko is a human hook machine.  

As implied by “S.O.B.,” Kaliko’s stockiness doesn’t impede fans’ appreciation of his formidable talent.  Legend, Kaliko’s seventh solo album, is engaging partly because he repeatedly references his creative frustration.  His grievances are justified. Legend isn’t nearly as good as it could be.

Kaliko is poorly served by the stale production that’s plagued Strange Music for years.  He deserves better.  Provided the opportunity to rap and sing on the fashionable throwback beats associated with Buffalo’s Griselda crew, the murky flow coming out of Earl Sweatshirt’s collective or the cutting-edge lo-fi soundscapes crafted by Slauson Malone, Kaliko’s name would almost certainly appear on the best-of lists he so clearly covets.