Dear Diary

Original image of the Branford Marsalis Quartet at the Folly Theater by There Stands the Glass.

Monitoring social media missives from colleagues attending last week’s SXSW conference and Luck Reunion celebration in Texas made me blue. Rather than continuing to sulk, I crafted a plan for a full day of music in the Kansas City area on Saturday, March 15. A betrayal by the Kansas City Symphony tripped me up from the outset. 

I intended to begin my spree with oboist Kristina Fulton’s 11 a.m. master class at Helzberg Hall. The event was listed on the Symphony’s site the previous day, but every door of the Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts was locked when I circumnavigated the building on Saturday morning.

With my carefully calibrated schedule immediately out of whack, I began improvising. I hit Dawson Jones’ matinee at Green Lady Lounge two hours earlier than intended. While I loved it, I was unwilling to stick around for Rod Fleeman’s subsequent first set as originally planned. Annoyed, I ate lunch at home while watching televised college basketball. 

I’d intended to walk to a youth concert at a church presented by The Friends of Chamber Music and from there to Made in France’s gig at a nearby café, but it suddenly occurred to me that I might purchase a discounted ticket to the Big 12 Conference men’s basketball championship game at the T-Mobile Center rather than sticking to that plan.

After pulling the trigger on an all-in $21 ticket, I returned to downtown to see Houston take on Arizona. My assigned seat placed me amid Arizona boosters. Those are not my people. I felt at home after sneaking across the arena to embed myself three rows behind Houston’s pep band.

Unfortunately, I was compelled to leave the close contest with five minutes left on the game clock. (The good guys won.) Several months ago I bought a front-and-center ticket to a concert by the Branford Marsalis Quartet for $43. I didn’t dare miss a minute. Cold rain soaked my feet as I hustled from the T-Mobile Center to the Folly Theater.

The jazz notables met but did not exceed my high expectations. DJ Diesel’s free outdoor show at the KC Live complex was supposed to wrap up my big day out. Imagine my disappointment upon discovering heavy snow as I exited the Folly Theater! Just as my hopes were dashed ten hours earlier, my day ended with an unexpected letdown.

Concert Review: Barry Manilow at the T-Mobile Center

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

There was a time when I wouldn’t have crossed the street to attend a Barry Manilow concert. I’m growing increasingly tolerant as I age. That’s why I jumped on the bargain when I stumbled upon a pair of $15 all-in tickets for the easy listening icon’s concert at the T-Mobile Center.

I feared my life partner would scold me for the impulsive and mildly embarrassing purchase. Instead, she revealed she knew all the words to more than a dozen Manilow songs. Her long-repressed fandom delighted me.

We had more fun reveling in recordings of Manilow’s processed cheese in the days ahead of the August 25 concert than we did at the actual event. The concert started poorly for an audience of about 5,000. An alleged comedian opened the show. He was so disastrously unfunny I suspect he may have been a transgressive performance artist.

Manilow was game throughout his 90-minute set, but his rinky-dink sound system and basic shoebox stage was the weakest presentation for a major star I’ve encountered in years. The threadbare casino setup was wholly inadequate for the vast arena. I would have been furious had I paid more than a total of $30.

Renditions of “Looks Like We Made It,” “Even Now” and “I Made It Through the Rain” deserved better. Acknowledging that his oeuvre is derided as dentist office fare, Manilow joked that “as long as there are teeth, my songs will live forever.” Maybe so, but the abysmal production put Manilow’s songs on life support in Kansas City.

Concert Review: Willow and Childish Gambino at the T-Mobile Center

Original image of Willow by There Stands the Glass.

Willow, the 23-year-old musician associated with pop-punk, rebranded herself as a jazz fusion artist at the T-Mobile Center on Monday, August 12. The scores of young women surrounding me amid the audience of approximately 9,000 seemed baffled by the surprising change in direction.

The touchstones in Willow’s mature new sound include the Brainfeeder collective, Weather Report and Esperanza Spalding. The 45-minute set featuring four studio session ringers is among the most unexpected things I’ve witnessed in 45 years of attending arena concerts.

Much of headliner Childish Gambino’s schtick consisted of asking who was a “real fan.” Given I was more impressed by the lavish production accompanying his 105-minute show than by his performance, I suppose I’m merely a fake fan.

Original image of Childish Gambino by There Stands the Glass.

Concert Review: Lionel Richie and Earth, Wind & Fire at the T-Mobile Center

Original image of Lionel Richie by There Stands the Glass.

Cheesier than Wisconsin and cornier than Iowa, the music of the Alabama native Lionel Richie can be cringey. During the opening notes of several musty hits during his headlining performance at the T-Mobile Center on Thursday, June 7, the thought “oh yeah, I remember this one” was immediately followed by the realization “oh no, I never liked it.”

Even so, a quarter of the songs made my heart flutter. How I love “Brick House”, “Still” and even the tacky pop of “Say You, Say Me”! I may have been more tolerant of the remainder of Richie’s set had it preceded Earth, Wind & Fire’s audacious outing.

I purchased $25 all-in upper level tickets during Live Nation’s concert week promotion specifically to hear the current version of Earth, Wind & Fire perform timeless hits including “Shining Star”, “Reasons” and “That’s the Way of the World”. Most of the approximately 15,000 people on hand would concur with my assessment: Earth, Wind & Fire owned the evening.

Concert Review: Roger Waters at T-Mobile Center

Original image of Roger Waters concert by There Stands the Glass.

I’d never been to a Pink Floyd or Roger Waters concert prior to Saturday, September 3.  There’s a perfectly good reason for my neglect: I never acquired a taste for the musicians’ post-Syd Barrett form of grandiose art-rock.

Yet the combination of Waters’ age- he was three days shy of 79 on Saturday- and a bargain price of $22 for seats in the upper rafters of the T-Mobile Center- compelled me to give in.  I spent portions of the night wishing I wasn’t there.

Not even the crystal-clear contributions of jazz saxophonist Seamus Blake and drummer-to-the-stars Joey Waronker in the immaculate sound field could alter my assessments of songs from Dark Side of the Moon and The Wall I’ve always disliked.

Much of the audience of about 10,000 consisted of the same people who attend home games of the Kansas City Chiefs.  But marijuana smoke rather than beer vendors filled the aisles. And instead of football, fans took in a torrent of Bernie Bro screeds.

The laundry list of demands and grievances displayed on the massive video array quickly became tiresome.  I may agree with sentiments including “Yemeni rights” and “free Julian Assange,” but relentless hectoring is always a drag.  Yet Waters had the last laugh.

Presumably inspired by Saturday’s rendition of "Us and Them", I dreamed I lived in a gated compound in a war-torn country later that night.  As insurgents were about to break down the door of my home, I contemplated how much I’d miss air conditioning.