Original image by There Stands the Glass.
I’ve been in a funk since returning to Kansas City following a brief residency in Portland. The malaise has been particularly frustrating because I’m not experiencing an immediate crisis. A sweaty encounter with a buoyant pop band may have cured what ails me at recordBar on Monday, September 26.
Bouncing to the giddy ditties of Blackstarkids felt liberating, but an incident directly related to the Kansas City trio is the root cause of a portion of my emotional impairment. I met with Deiondre, Gabe and Ty at a coffee shop in March of 2020 to verify their willingness to participate in a radio feature.
I was elated. The profile about the then-unknown band almost certainly would have been my best work for an NPR affiliate. Yet when I attempted to book studio time, I was informed the nascent pandemic forced the cessation of all such activity. I have yet to recover from the setback.
In spite of my involuntary betrayal, Deiondre told me last night that my enthusiastic confidence in his band’s prospects bolstered it in an uncertain moment. Ostensibly rejected by hometown record labels, Blackstarkids subsequently signed to the hit-making London based Dirty Hit consortium.
Anticipating a sellout, I paid $15 for a ticket when the show was announced last month. Yet the hometown celebration attracted less than 150 people. Blackstarkids displayed a dazzling stage presence developed through steady touring with more prominent acts for the small audience of friends, family and true believers.
Balancing the slaphappy frivolity of K-pop with the unsettling anxiety associated with members of the Odd Future collective, renditions of songs including “Love, Stargirl” soothed my heavy heart. Ty referred to Gabe as “the future of music” near the end of the show. Here’s hoping all three kids change the world.