Concert Review: Bob Bowman and Peter Schlamb at Second Presbyterian Church

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

An unassuming recital on the patio of a church acted as a gratifying consolation prize on Wednesday, August 24.  I wasn’t provided a pass to area appearances by Alicia Keys and $uicideboy$ that night.  My budget didn’t allow me to spring for a ticket to either amphitheater concert.

I would have relished being in the presence of one of the most likable pop stars of the new millennium at Keys’ appearance.  And being surrounded by $uicideboy$ fans would have helped keep tabs on recent developments in pop culture.

Yet nothing at either show would have been as sublime as the flash-free duo of bassist Bob Bowman and vibraphonist Peter Schlamb at Second Presbyterian Church.  Having dedicated thousands of words to both Kansas City musicians at Plastic Sax during the past 15 years, I concur with the praise they heaped upon one another.

Schlamb asserted Bowman is “truly a legend.”  Bowman called Schlamb “one of the greatest musicians on the planet.”  Their 50-minute set attended by about 30 people corroborated the assessments.  The elite improvisations rewarded aspects of my soul that the music of Keys and $uicideboy$ could never reach.

Album Review: Larry June- Spaceships on the Blade

I occasionally wonder if my ongoing advocacy of Rich the Factor has converted a single person into a fan of the murky music made by the Kansas City rap institution. It’s a classic case of “if you know, you know.” Rich’s status as an underground hero- a sensibility he calls “bucks over fame”- is one of his favorite themes. Larry June capitalizes on Rich’s ostensible indifference to mainstream success. Spaceships on the Blade, the prolific Bay Area musician’s latest release, is a slick realization of Rich’s aesthetic. The only significant difference between new June tracks like "Don't Check Me" and a typical Rich song is the enhanced production. The admission feels like a betrayal, but I’m pleased by June’s astute knack for capitalizing on Rich’s belligerent obstinacy.

Concert Review: Escuela Grind at Farewell

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

Attending musical performances involves a lot of standing around.  Late starts, technical delays and enduring the occasional wretched opening act are part of the ritual.  I was elated, consequently, when I heard Escuela Grind open its set at Farewell on Monday, August 15, as I parked my car a block away in the industrial district.

A scrum of about 50 people forced me to remain pinned to the door next to the stage as the quartet from New England raged.  Front person Katerina Economou proclaimed her group played nothing but death metal amid the brief but cathartic set.  The brutal noise was belied by a room full of smiles.

Headbangers knew they were experiencing something extraordinary as they took in ferocious renditions of songs like "All Is Forgiven" and "Cliffhanger".  The ecstatic antics of a large man in the mosh pit embodied the gobsmacked response to Escuela Grind.  No one was seriously hurt, and at least one soul was partially healed.

Concert Review: The Summer Singers of Kansas City & Orchestra’s “Elijah” at Grace and Holy Trinity Cathedral

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

I came into possession of a 95-year-old book titled A History of Music last week.  The author derides Felix Mendelssohn’s “unhappy predilection for the expression of superficial sentiment.”  Even though I too have yet to warm up to the composer, I didn't hesitate to pay $25 to hear Mendelssohn’s 1846 oratorio "Elijah"  at Grace and Holy Trinity Cathedral on Sunday, August 14.

The choir of about 100 overseen by conductor William Baker delivered the massive jolt I anticipated.  The multitude of vocalists was accompanied by a twenty-piece orchestra and fronted by professional soloists including soprano Victoria Botero.   Approximately 450 people endured unforgiving wooden pews to take in the 140-minute endeavor.

The scale conveyed the magnitude of the incredible saga of the Biblical prophet.  Yet the church’s high ceiling, stone walls and hard floor nullified concerns about “superficial sentiment.”  The swirling sonic soup often resembled the psychedelia of last month’s Animal Collective concert.  Were it not for the libretto in the program, one might have thought the choir was praising Baal.

Album Review: Barlast- Musik för scener

I was startled to discover a clean vinyl copy of a 45-year-old Eberhard Weber album on ECM Records in the dollar bin of a record store last month. The bassist’s sublime fusion of European folk and Euro-jazz is tastefully updated by Barlast. The Finnish quartet’s new album Musik för scener is a spectral wonder. The promotional materials for the 32-minute album suggest that “(e)verything unnecessary is stripped away.” Sure enough, the astounding sounds created by Barlast are balanced by equally profound silences. The ethereal application of Finnish instruments like the mänkeri alongside conventional instrumentation could become fastidious were it not for a menacing undercurrent of the sort associated with Nordic metal. Any person who encounters an absurdly underpriced physical copy of a Barlast recording in 2066 will be very fortunate.

Concert Review: Flatland Cavalry at The Truman

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

Walking through the doors of The Truman on Friday, August 5, was like entering an alternate universe.  In this musical realm, terrestrial radio doesn’t exist, the Turnpike Troubadours are bigger than the Beatles and Tyler Childers is a more important poet than Bob Dylan.

The Kenny Chesney t-shirt worn by a woman enthusiastically buying Flatland Cavalry gear was the only glitch in the matrix.  Yet the six men in Flatland Cavalry and the youthful audience of almost 1,000 who purchased tickets at a median price of $27 aren’t judgemental elitists.

Even though it qualifies as a real-deal country band replete with a fiddler, the gimmick-free Flatland Cavalry can’t be bothered with stylistic divisions.  The band from Lubbock combines the sweet sentimentality of pop-country stars such as Luke Bryan with the rugged approach of Texas troubadours like Robert Earl Keen.

The twinkle in his eyes, his torn denim shirt and sketchy trash ’stache give front man Cleto Cordero a passing resemblance to the young John Prine.  His bandmates are equally charismatic.  Their 90-minute show was filled with stellar musicianship and engaging theatrics. 

Renditions of cult favorites including “Gettin’ By” were immensely satisfying.  Nevertheless, the band still lacks a definitive signature song.  That’s why the ecstatic response to an earnest cover of “Callin’ Baton Rouge” alarmed me.  Rather than compromising, I hope Flatland Cavalry simply waits for the real world to catch up with its excellence.

Concert Review: Escher String Quartet at Polsky Theatre

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

A distraught man seated next to me in the second row of Escher String Quartet’s recital at Polsky Theatre never stopped staring at his phone during the concert on Wednesday, August 3.  The discourteous behavior would ordinarily enrage me.

Yet prior to the performance the Chinese national explained he was communicating with friends and family in Taiwan who were closely monitoring the Chinese military drills around the contested island.

Compositions by Joseph Haydn, Béla Bartók and Antonín Dvořák sounded especially consequential as my new friend frantically doomscrolled.  Might, as he implied at intermission, the event be among the last concerts on earth?  And how precisely would I want to go out?  

I consume gobs of reggaeton for the same reason other people swallow pharmaceutical mood elevators. Yet I’d be mortified if Bad Bunny was playing when the world ended.  Escher String Quartet would provide a far more suitable sendoff.

Even though one member of the acclaimed quartet committed minor flubs during the concert presented by the Heartland Chamber Music Festival, the gorgeous Haydn, queasy Bartók and sublime Dvořák works riveted the audience of about 300.  And at only $10 a ticket, the recital was an economical end-of-the-world bargain.

Album Review: Nate Wooley- Ancient Songs of Burlap Heroes

We can never fully know one another.  Even if we wished to, none of us are able to properly express all of the things that make us what we are.  One of the most extraordinary aspects of music is the form’s capacity to communicate the otherwise indecipherable.

Nate Wooley’s new album Ancient Songs of Burlap Heroes is an uncannily accurate representation of what’s going on in my head when I wake up at 4 a.m.  Mary Halvorson’s interrogative guitar squiggles in one channel and Susan Alcorn’s melancholic pedal steel musings in the other signify conflicting trains of thought.

The trumpet and amplifier sounds created by Wooley and the drumming of Ryan Sawyer signify the firing of additional synapses.  Peaceful moments of clarity are overwhelmed by anxious clamor.  Ancient Songs of Burlap Heroes is decidedly acidic.  In the annoying parlance of social media, I feel seen.

Album Review: Tedeschi Trucks Band- I Am the Moon III: The Fall

A minor medical emergency waylaid my plan to catch a concert by Little Feat last week.  I took solace in the third installment of Tedeschi Trucks Band’s I Am the Moon.  The first three portions of the four-part series validate my belief that the ensemble is the premier jam band of the past 15 years.  Between the well-constructed songs, Tedeschi’s soulful voice and succinct guitar shredding, I Am the Moon III: The Fall compares favorably with the most durable hippie jams by the likes of the Allman Brothers Band, Traffic and, of course, Little Feat.

Album Review: Beyoncé- Renaissance

No one’s ever accused me of being a Beyoncé fanboy. I’ve admired her work for almost 25 years, but my interest in the superstar is no more keen than my appreciation of Donna Summer, Angela Winbush, Angélique Kidjo or Janet Jackson. Beyoncé knowingly channels each of those predecessors on the magnificent Renaissance. In fact, dozens of sonic references make the new album a music obsessive’s dream. Paying affectionate homage to old favorites while preaching a prosperity gospel theme makes me an instant believer in the power of Renaissance. Pass the collection plate.