Album Review: Benoît Delbecq- The Weight of Light

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

What’s on my mind?  I’m little different than many of my friends and neighbors.  The impeachment hearing and bitterly cold weather recently aggravated the surreal purgatory accompanying the draining wait for inoculation shots.

But what’s in my mind?  The French pianist Benoît Delbecq captures my melancholy disposition on his new album The Weight of Light.  In what feels like a magic trick of telepathic synchronicity, Delbecq’s recital mirrors my agitated sense of impatience and hope.

Delbecq’s meditative approach to prepared piano also elucidates the mysteries of the sacred texts I study each day. The Weight of Light could be characterized as jazz, but it sounds more like music John Cage might have composed for use in Egyptian ceremonial rites three thousand years ago.

Chick Corea, 1941-2021

Original image of Chick Corea and bassist Carlitos Del Puerto at the Kansas City Jazz & Heritage Festival in 2017 by There Stands the Glass.

Two sounds battled for supremacy among my peers in a Midwestern suburban subdivision during the mid-’70s.  The elaborate prog-rock of bands like Emerson, Lake & Palmer dominated the record collections of many of my friends.  Others preferred the brash jazz fusion typified by The Tony Williams Lifetime.

The members of the occasionally combative camps found common ground in Chick Corea.  I heard Corea-affiliated albums such as Return to Forever’s prog/fusion rampage Romantic Warrior far more often than I might have liked.  Drawn to more mainstream artists ranging from Aerosmith to Stevie Wonder, I wasn’t a true believer.

Everything changed when I heard Crystal Silence, Corea’s duet album with Gary Burton, six or seven years after its 1972 release.  The pristine set served as one of my primary gateways into acoustic jazz.  I’ve since spent more than four decades studying every nook and cranny of Corea’s extensive and wildly eclectic catalog.

I was elated to see Corea and Burton recreate Crystal Silence at the Gem Theater in 2012. And I took it personally when only about 250 people attended Corea’s afternoon set at the Kansas City Jazz & Heritage Festival in 2017. Corea died earlier this week. Sadly, I’m unable to commiserate with the boys who introduced me to Corea. My last remaining close friend from that era died last year.

Fantasia

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

My desire to continue exploring new sounds seems to intensify every day.  I want to hear it all.  I occasionally fear my compulsion for music discovery will eventually hit a dead end.  What if I exhaust every possibility?

As the old saw has it, I don’t know what I don’t know.  An initial encounter with Ferruccio Busoni a couple days ago indicates I’ll die long before there’s nothing left for me to uncover.

Lowell Liebermann’s rendering of Busoni’s “Fantasia contrappuntistica”on his new album Personal Demons transfixed me.  I soon learned Busoni was a celebrated pianist as well as an inventive composer. There’s something spellbinding about the compromised sonic quality of Busoni’s 1922 recordings.  A vast trove of recorded Busoni works awaits me.  

Perhaps I should be grateful rather than ashamed for having learned most everything I know about music aside from outlaw country through independent study.  As an increasingly committed autodidact, I recognize my education is just beginning.

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I rank all but one of Pat Metheny’s 46 albums at Plastic Sax.

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!