The Quarantine Thick Blues

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

I’ve packed on pandemic pounds.  I barely even qualify as Kansas City skinny.  The party’s over.  The lavish buffet and open bar in my home are closed until I lose 20 pounds.  Two months of gnawing hunger and tormenting thirst should reduce me to hard-won scrawniness by April Fools’ Day.  Until then, expect me to be crankier than usual.  Unpopular opinions on five recent releases I wouldn’t consider publishing on a full stomach follow.

*Emmet Cohen- Future Stride

Jazz’s latest whiz kid is a canny traditionalist.

*Foo Fighters- Medicine at Midnight

The differences between Foo Fighters and Nickelback are so marginal that they’re practically the same band.

*Lucero- When You Found Me

A once-vital sound is entirely played out.

*Arlo Parks- Collapsed in Sunbeams

Watery chicken soup for delicate listeners allergic to grit and spice. 

*The Weather Station- Ignorance

A fine tribute to Everything but the Girl.

Kiss and Makeup

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

I was invariably alarmed when classmates in the mid-’70s bragged about their enlistment in the Kiss Army.  After they produced fan club membership cards and raved about pyrotechnics and tongue-waggling, I usually assumed the boys took the short bus to school.

The joke’s on me.  When I’m in the mood for contemporary forms of the guitar-based music perfected by Chuck Berry more than than 60 years ago, I tend to reach for extreme forms of confrontational rock.  Consequently, I occasionally find myself headbanging to black metal by musicians wearing makeup.

Tribulation’s Where Gloom Becomes Sound hits the spot.  The melodic new songs by the Swedish band such as "Hour of the Wolf" and "Funeral Pyre" are patently absurd, but I relish the epic riffing and grizzled vocals.  I suppose I owe those simpletons from my youth an apology.

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From an alternate reality in which I rejected punk and hip-hop from the get-go, I unabashedly hail Needlepoint’s Walking Up That Valley as a perfect album.  The Oslo band’s evocation of precious 1972 prog-rock is spot-on.

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I revisit Bobby Watson’s oddest album at the Kansas City jazz blog Plastic Sax.

A Hundred Million Miracles: Notes From a Musical Immersion

Screenshot of the trailer for “Summer Stock” by There Stands the Glass.

I wasn’t looking for trouble when I decided to supplant my nine-month investigation of opera with the study of musicals as a new quarantine diversion. I merely intended to address another embarrassing blind spot in my self-directed education in as many forms of music as possible. An avalanche of overt racism and sexism immediately overwhelmed me.

Unlike the cheerless soldiers in the vast army of keyboard warriors, I’m not among the perpetually aggrieved people prone to daily rants about injustices.  Yet an acknowledgement- if not a proper reckoning- of the deeply troubling aspects of vintage musicals must be made.

Much of the offensive material reflects the institutional sensibilities of the times.  In other instances, racial, ethnic and gender stereotypes are deliberately played for laughs.  I don’t know which type of misdeed is more troubling.  And don’t even get me started on the repulsive sight of Fred Astaire in blackface.

Five favorite musicals I recently watched for the first time are listed below.  My appreciation of each work comes in spite of its objectionable elements.  Other takeaways:

*I was aware big bands were once at the vanguard of popular music.  Yet seeing jazz depicted as the subversive music of rebellious youth in musicals of the ‘30s and ‘40s was a revelation.

*Frank Sinatra sure could sing.

*Gene Kelly almost makes me enjoy tap dancing.

*The humor of vaudeville comics didn’t translate to the big screen.

*The stifled tone of early musicals reveals why the R&B and rock revolutions were inevitable.

1. "Flower Drum Song" (1961)

I’d never been exposed to any of these Rodgers and Hammerstein songs.  The soundtrack may be as good as “The Sound of Music” and “The King and I.”  Favorite song: “A Hundred Million Miracles”

2. "Man of La Mancha" (1972)

Peter O’Toole, Sophia Loren and James Coco warble through the Spanish Inquisition.  Favorite song: “The Impossible Dream”

3. "Cabaret" (1972)

A chillingly relevant examination of the fall of the Weimar Republic. Favorite song: “If You Could See Her”

4. "Bells Are Ringing" (1960)

Judy Holliday is spectacular.  Favorite song: "Just in Time"

5. "Summer Stock" (1950)

The frazzled but magnificent Judy Garland redeems the generic offering. Favorite song: “Friendly Star”

January 2021 Recap: A Monthly Exercise in Critical Transparency

Screenshot of Gilette Barbier in Lourdes by There Stands the Glass.

Top Ten Albums

1. Alexander Hawkins- Togetherness Music

My review.

2. Patricia Brennan- Maquishti

Concussed.

3. R.A.P. Ferreira- Bob’s Son

My review.

4. Miguel Zenón and Luis Perdomo- El Arte Del Bolero

My review.

5. Behzod Abduraimov- Debussy Chopin Mussorgsky

My review.

6. Caroline Shaw- Narrow Sea

Experimental gospel.

7. Sleaford Mods- Spare Ribs

My review.

8. Estelle Revaz and the Geneva Chamber Orchestra- Journey to Geneva

Startling interpretations of compositions by Frank Martin and Xavier Dayer.

9. Rich The Factor- Mobbligated

Straight off Kansas City’s grimiest assembly line.

10. Shame- Drunk Tank Pink

Queasy.

Top Ten Songs

1. Anavitória- "Terra"

Brazilian wall of sound.

2. Selena Gomez- "De Una Vez"

The pop star shares my affection for Bad Bunny.

3. Morgan Wallen- "Quittin' Time"

Remember Clint Black? Morgan Wallen does.

4. Chai- "Action"

“It’s going to be ok.”

5. Saweetie and Doja Cat- "Best Friend"

Cruisin’.

6. Flee Lord, Eto and Westside Gunn- "Ain't Hit Nobody"

Knockout.

7. Julien Baker- "Hardline"

Darkness, darkness.

8. Olivia Rodrigo- “Drivers License”

Teen spirit.

9. Rhye- "Come In Closer"

Sade sounds better than ever.

10. Anuel AA and Ozuna- "La Maria"

Rap it soft and it’s almost like praying.

Top Ten Films

1. Lourdes (2009)

Dogma and disability in France.

2. Say Amen, Somebody (1982)

Anointed! My new all-time favorite music documentary.

3. Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom (2020)

Superb rendering of August Wilson’s estimable play.

4. The Little Foxes (1941)

Superb rendering of Lillian Hellman’s estimable play.

5. Fitzcarraldo (1982)

A wondrous shipwreck.

6. Gräns (2018)

Uninhibited Swedish fairytale.

7. The Blues Accordin’ to Lightnin’ Hopkins (1967)

Mojo workin’.

8. Little Joe (2019)

Cautionary fable about GMOs.

9. Jazz on a Summer’s Day (1959)

Incredibly, I’d seen only excerpts.

10. The Falcon and the Snowman (1985)

Drugs, treason and the NSA.

Links to previous installations of my monthly recap series begin here.

Album Review: Sleaford Mods- Spare Ribs

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

A substantial portion of my youth was spent getting yelled at. I continue to inadvertently provoke furious tirades as an adult. I’m even traumatized by diatribes that aren’t directed specifically at me. As I watched the taped farewell address of the vile American braggart this week, I found myself gradually reducing the television’s volume until it was two notches above mute. The lout’s duplicitous bellowing was still loud and clear. Even when I agree with the message, I find it difficult to embrace the angry hectoring of men like Joe Strummer and KRS-One. That’s why a little bit of Sleaford Mods- a British duo inspired by old-school punk and hip-hop- goes a long way. Their arresting new album Spare Ribs feels much longer than 43 minutes. Yet taken in single doses, songs like "Nudge It" and "Shortcummings" are world-beaters. Now please stop yelling at me.

Album Review: Alexander Hawkins- Togetherness Music

Original image of Evan Parker at the Big Ears Festival in 2019 by There Stands the Glass.

I regret passing on an opportunity to chat with Evan Parker during the 2019 edition of the Big Ears Festival in Knoxville.  Parker stood with attendees on a sidewalk waiting for a venue’s doors to open for his matinee performance.  More familiar with Parker’s legendary status in new music circles than with his actual work, I wasn’t yet prepared to engage in anything more than small talk with the titanic figure.

I’ve since developed an incapacitating reverence for the iconoclastic British saxophonist after listening to dozens of hours of his recordings, a tiny fraction of the 76-year-old’s canon.  The latest example of his genius is Togetherness Music, a spectacularly ambitious “six-movement quasi-orchestral work” overseen by pianist and composer Alexander Hawkins.  Parker’s presence acts as a lit fuse amid the combustible large ensemble that includes strings and electronics.

In expanding the outer limits of the innovations of Charles Mingus and Charles Ives, Togetherness Music blends jazz-based improvisation with contemporary classical music.  I’m all in, but my enthusiasm could become problematic.  Were I to encounter Parker today, I’d almost certainly embarrass myself with unhinged musings on the uncommonly fertile new ground he and collaborators like Hawkins have forged.

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I’m honored to have been asked to participate in The 2020 NPR Music Jazz Critics Poll. My notes about a challenging aspect of the selection process are at Plastic Sax.

Getting to Know You

Screenshot of Klaus Kinski in “Fitzcarraldo” by There Stands the Glass.

I can’t take it anymore.  I refuse to watch another livestream of a musical performance.  Even when the production values are good, livestreams are dreary and depressing reminders of an important aspect of my life that remains unattainable ten months into the pandemic.

My daily opera initiative concluded on New Year’s Eve, but I’m currently trudging through a strident interpretation of “Die Zauberflöte” in which good ideas- catcalls from the audience, security fences as stage props and the change in the age and gender of the child guides among them- are outnumbered by failed innovations.  I’m forcing myself to view 15 minutes a day until I witness the disappointing version of Sarastro triumphing in the final scene.

My distaste may be related to one of my latest attempts to mitigate cabin fever.  I’ve redirected a portion of my newly available time to musicals, another suspect form of entertainment I’ve long neglected.  Sure, I’ve seen film and stage versions of cultural touchstones like "Oklahoma!," “The King and I” and “Singin’ in the Rain,” but I’ve intentionally sidestepped dozens of secondary works.  I haven’t even seen “Hamilton” yet.

While I have no intention of watching a musical every day, I hope to become fluent in the form in the coming months.  I’m particularly motivated by a desire to get a better handle on the relationship between musicals and the Great American Songbook.  Maybe musicals aren’t merely opera’s dumbed-down and corny offspring.  I’ll periodically share my observations about "all the beautiful and new things I’m learning" in this space.

I’m also going to break form by venturing into the realm of film criticism.  I’ve long been horrified by the cultural conformity revealed in the movie recommendations of friends and associates who unironically use the term “creative” to identify themselves.  Their sincere adoration of superhero flicks is particularly embarrassing.

Rather than continuing to seethe in silence, I’ll begin adding lists of movies I’ve recently appreciated to my monthly recaps.  I’d never seen Werner Herzog’s opera-inspired 1982 film "Fitzcarraldo" until now. What a glorious mess!

Molto Agitato

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

I attempted to sleep in a different room in my home last night. The slight variances in the hum, buzz and whoosh of appliances, wind, passing vehicles and furnace were just different enough to forestall sleep.  Much as I was thrown off by the ambient noise, I’m obsessed with the varied sonic textures of three solo piano recordings released in the first couple weeks of 2021.

The splashy sound of Behzod Abduraimov’s Debussy Chopin Mussorgsky resembles a raging torrent on the precipice of a waterfall.  The more conventional sound field of Beethoven: Piano Sonatas, a compelling new recital by MinJung Baek, possesses the resonance of a concert hall.  The treated instrument played by Raffaele Grimaldi on John Cage: In a Landscape/Dream/Haiku sounds more like a harp than a piano on “Dream.”  Elsewhere, the 21-minute EP emphasizes the manipulated components of the apparatus.

Jason Moran further advances pianistic evolution on his forthcoming solo album The Sound Will Tell You by applying “a filter to allow the sound (to) cast a shadow” on some tracks.  The wealth of possibilities inherent in the seemingly staid instrument remains staggering.  I intend to have sweet dreams about the only live ticket I’m holding: a fourth-row center seat I purchased at a steep discount for a rescheduled Daniil Trifonov concert in 2022.

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I review Blob Castle’s La Tierra Se Está Doblando at the Kansas City jazz blog Plastic Sax.

Clipping

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

Nostalgia is a noxious trap.  I’m careful to avoid becoming ensnared by the unhealthy sentiment as I excavate the moldy contents of dusty boxes and rusty file cabinets during my seemingly endless quarantine.  Yet I was snagged by an overwhelming rush of memories when I uncovered the pictured advertisement printed next to one of my record reviews in a 1993 copy of The Pitch.

While I have no clear recollection of Abbey Road, I associate each of the other retailers listed in the promotion with youthful music discovery and carefree hangs with friends both living and dead.  Ron Rooks, the late owner of the vinyl behemoth The Music Exchange, was one of my worthiest adversaries.  I also miss Anne Winter of Recycled Sounds and Dan and Dave Conn of the Music Exchange.  Dan later worked at Disc Traders.

I bought my first ECM album at Classical Westport.  Exile stocked irresistible novelties behind a glass counter.  The shops in Lawrence were often engaged in enthrallingly spiteful competition.  And I was introduced to the aloof indie aesthetic at Spiney Norman.  Was life better in 1993?  Not necessarily.  I’m just grateful to still be here wistfully recalling the bygone era.

Album Review: Miguel Zenón and Luis Perdomo- El Arte Del Bolero

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

I welcome music that inspires homework.  When it comes to appreciating the repertoire of Miguel Zenón, the extra credit assignments are entirely pleasurable.  Contextual awareness isn’t necessary to appreciate the saxophonist’s extraordinary improvisations and delectable embrace of melody, but it certainly helps.  The six selections on El Arte Del Bolero, a new duet album he recorded with the pianist Luis Perdomo 14 weeks ago, are interpretations of vintage material.  As with Zenón’s albums Sonero: The Music of Ismael Rivera (2019) and Alma Adentro (2011), an understanding of El Arte Del Bolero is enhanced by familiarity with the original versions.  Here are links to the acutely romantic songs: Benny Moré- "Como Fue", Sylvia Rexach- "Alma Adentro", Ray Barretto- "Ese Hastío" aka “Piensa En Mi”, Arsenio Rodriguez- “La Vida Es Un Sueño”, La Lupe- "Que Te Pedí" and Cheo Feliciano- “Juguete”.  Benny Moré is among the referenced artists who have long infused my life with joy, but I know pitifully little about La Lupe, the electrifying performer once billed as the Queen of Latin Soul.  Thank you, Zenón and Perdomo, for the wonderful El Arte Del Bolero and for furthering my musical education.  Adult learning has rarely been more rewarding.

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I’ve previously neglected linking to my most recent appearance on 90.9 The Bridge’s Eight One Sixty program.