Category: review

Review: Ben Folds

by thedailyrecord, posted in Concert review, Kansas City Star
(Above: Ben Folds and Regina Spektor drop by Conan to perform “You Don’t Know Me.”)

By Joel Francis
The Kansas City Star

Ben Folds is so melodic that even when he writes bad tunes on purpose he ends up with something you can whistle and enjoy.

Case in point: Folds’ two-hour-plus, sold-out concert at the Uptown Wednesday night. Nearly half a dozen of the evening’s songs were spoofs that Folds and his band leaked to the internet before the release of his latest album, “Way To Normal.”

“We decided even though these songs were written to suck, we liked them anyway,” Folds told the crowd.

So while the album version of “Bitch Went Nuts” is about a man justifying a break-up by blaming the woman, the “fake” version is about a liberal woman who takes cocaine and goes Ralph Nader at her conservative date’s law-firm party. Folds was so enamored with his fakes that he A-side/B-sided them against the album versions two times during the night. Both times each version held its own.

As such, the night was heavy on “Normal” material. Opening act Missy Higgins joined Folds for the bouncy, synth-heavy “You Don’t Know Me”; “Frown Song” was propelled by not one, but two keytars. “Cologne” is a beautiful ballad about a deteriorating relationship that stands proudly among Folds best compositions.

“Brainwashed” recalled the best moments of the Ben Folds Five, and while his band jammed on the outro, Folds stood to the side of the stage with his hands together, beaming like a child at a talent show.

Folds peppered the setlist with fan favorites like “Landed,” “Zak and Sara” and a partial cover of Elton John’s “This Song Has No Title” (which he’d performed at a New York City benefit concert earlier this week).

The encore was essentially a half-hour second set for the faithful. “Still Fighting It,” “Kate,” “Philosophy” and “Fair” were pure Folds gold that the crowd devoured. He’s not afraid to flip on the house lights to get the audience involved, and they were not shy about taking the cue. The crowd jumped on “Army” with a “Rocky Horror Picture Show” level of interaction, taking over the three-part-harmony bridge with no instruction.

The five-piece band included drummer Sam Smith, who played so hard the “V-O-T-E” letters fixed to his shirt gradually fell off. Folds frequently dismissed the extra keyboard player and percussionist for a pared down bass-drums-piano trio on the harder hitting numbers.

Higgins warmed the crowd up with a 45-minute set of radio-ready acoustic pop, playing in socks because, she said, her shoes got soaked on an afternoon expedition to Broadway Café. The highlight of her set was “Going North,” which featured a great acoustic guitar solo by Ben Edgar.

The concert was Folds third local performance of the  year, following a late-winter, students-only show at UMKC and a 70-minute set at Wakarusa in June. If that set was slightly truncated, Folds made amends by playing for more than two hours and returning for two encores Wednesday night. The first encore set ended with the fake version of “Frown Song.” It’s hard to imagine anyone leaving with anything but a smile.

Setlist: Way to Normal/Effington/This Song Has Not Title/You Don’t Know Me (with Missy Higgins)/Gone/Brainwashed/Dr. Yang (fake)/Dr. Yang/Anne Waits/Cologne/Frown Song/The Bitch Went Nuts/Landed/Kylie from Connecticut/Free Coffee/Free Coffee Town/Hiroshima/Zak and Sara/The Bitch Went Nuts (fake) Encore: Fair/Still Fighting It/Philosophy/Kate/Rocking the Suburbs/Underground/Army/Frown Song (fake)/Not the Same

Review: Los Lobos

by thedailyrecord, posted in Concert review, Kansas City Star

Above: “Chuco’s Cumbia” at Austin City Limits 2006

By Joel Francis

The Kansas City Star

For a band as accomplished as Los Lobos, the reach from Jimi Hendrix and Willie Dixon to Richard Thompson and Ritchie Valens is a small one. The gulf between the lip of the stage and the front row, however, can be trickier to navigate.

The sextet’s 16-song, two-hour set was a celebration of all forms of music from New Orleans soul to Spanish mariachi. However, bottom-heavy sound and fixed seating proved nearly insurmountable for the band during the latest entry in the “Cyprus Avenue Live at the Folly Theater” on Sunday night.

The show never completely got off the ground, but it had its share of inspired moments. “Chuco’s Cumbia” featured a dirty Latin groove, while a medley of “The Neighborhood” and “Wang Dang Doodle” bridged the South Side of Chicago to East Los Angeles. The first set ended with a cover of Richard Thompson’s “Shoot Out the Lights” anchored by a thunderous backbeat.

After a 25-minute break, the band returned with a second set guaranteed to knock the yawn out of any weary political supporters (there were plenty of T-shirts from Saturday’s rally throughout the crowd). The one-two of “Come On Let’s Go” and “Don’t Worry Baby” got people involved, if not on their feet. The band traded 88 piano keys for 22 guitar strings on their cover of Fats Domino’s “The Fat Man,” which included a shuffling solo from drummer Cougar Estrada.

The high point of the night was a surprise cover of Jimi Hendrix’ “Little Wing.” Between David Hildago’s lead guitar and Cesar Rosas’ vocals, they not only nailed the song, but stretched it out and made it their own.

There were plenty of covers, but the band also touched on all phases of its career. While lesser bands make a career out of mining the same niche, Los Lobos were able to transition from the early rockabilly of “Shakin’ Shakin’ Shakes” to the more experimental “Kiko and the Lavender Moon,” and from the Spanish festivity of “Maria Christina” to the quiet introversion of “The Valley.”

The sound was muddy for most of the night and Steve Berlin suffered the brunt of it. His keyboards and woodwinds were often barely audible in the mix. The Folly is a wonderful venue for intimate shows -– recent performances by the Dave Brubeck Quartet and Randy Newman were sonically incredible -– but it is ill-suited for six amplified musicians.

The rigid seating and formal environment also inhibited the dancing and shaking Los Lobos’ music cries for. Toots and the Maytals, an earlier “Cyprus Avenue”/Folly booking, faced the same problem at its reggae concert last year. The younger crowd that turned out that night was less inhibited about dancing in the aisles.

Hildago finally coaxed people to their feet before “I Got Loaded,” and the band followed up with the one number guaranteed to keep everyone on their feet: “La Bamba.” After a brief encore break, the band picked up where they left off with a blistering “Good Morning Aztlan” and a frantic “Cumbia Raza” that featured another drum solo from Estrada and guitar solos from Louie Perez and Hildago. Just as the band and audience were hitting the mark, the band closed the set. It was a shame they had to stop. It felt like they were just getting started.

Setlist: Short Side of Nothing, Chuco’s Cumbia, The Valley, Luz d Mi Vida, The Neighborhood/Wang Dang Doodle, Shakin’ Shakin’ Shakes, Shoot Out the Light (intermission) Maria Christina, Kiko and the Lavender Moon, Come On Let’s Go, Don’t Worry Baby, Little Wing, The Fat Man, I Got Loaded, La Bamba/Good Lovin'(encores) Good Morning Aztlan, Cumbia Raza

Review: Old 97s

by thedailyrecord, posted in Concert review


Above: Of course they played “Roller Skate Skinny.”

By Joel Francis

There is something to be said for a band who can play an entire set without changing instruments.

The Old 97s are not quite that band – lead singer/songwriter/heartthrob Rhett Miller swapped his electric axe for an acoustic one a few times – but they are as close as we’re going to get. For almost two hours they entertained a nearly full Granada Theater in Lawrence, Kan. with little more than the instruments and songs on their backs.

The setlist encompassed more than two dozen songs, from radio favorites like “New Kid” to fan favorites like “Jagged” and new songs like “No Baby I.” When the band played “Question,” a recount of Miller’s wedding proposal, all the women pulled their men close and sang softly in their ears. “Barrier Reef” erupted into a raucous sing-along.

In a rare moment of between-song banter, Miller recalled the band’s first show in Lawrence at the Replay Lounge where they performed for a night of unlimited, free video games. A few songs later, those days were celebrated in “Niteclub.”

Miller may have the easiest job in showbiz. Offstage, all he has to do is write songs that combine the alt-country terrain plowed by Uncle Tupelo with the pop sensibility of Paul McCartney. Onstage, he just makes love with his eyes to all the doe-eyed women pressed against the stage and occasionally shake his ass while Ken Bethea takes a guitar solo.

Bethea plays lead guitar via chainsaw. Standing on the edge of the stage with his headstock hanging over the crowd, he rips through songs with a Chet Atkins-meets-Dick Dale style. On the other extreme of the stage, modest Murry Hammond cradles his bass like a baby and tosses out the harmony (and intermittent lead) vocals that push the songs from good to great.

Late-tour shows can be a mixed bag. When Wilco played the Uptown Theater in 2006 at the end of the Kicking Television tour they were tired of both the road and their material. But with only a couple dates left on their current tour the Old 97s played with the perfect mix of familiarity and abandon. “Doreen,” one of their hardest-rocking numbers, positively smoked.

The evening ended with the encore haymaker punches of “Murder (Or a Heart Attack),” “Big Brown Eyes,” “Dance with Me” and, of course, “Timebomb.” When it was over, everyone left a little drunker and a lot happier.

Review: Randy Newman

by thedailyrecord, posted in Concert review
(Above: We’ve got a friend in Randy.)

By Joel Francis

The setup couldn’t have been simpler – a grand piano, bench, monitor, couple of microphones, a small rug. But add Randy Newman to that list and the payoff couldn’t have been greater Saturday night.

Strolling casually onstage at 8 p.m. sharp, Newman rolled into “It’s the Money That I Love.” Throughout the next two and a half hours (counting a 20 minute intermission), he walked through nearly three dozen album tracks and hits like “You’ve Got A Friend In Me,” “I Love L.A.” and “Short People” for a nearly sold-out Folly Theater crowd.

He may have been alone onstage, but Newman had a theater of fervent supporters. The audience of NPR-listening baby boomers was pin-drop quiet on the moodier numbers and clapping and laughing on the upbeat songs. When Newman finally enlisted their help on the chorus of “I’m Dead (But I Don’t Know It)” the enthusiastic response was startling. “You sound like a Queen record,” he joked.

Newman is as good at directing a crowd as he is an orchestra. He shifted effortlessly from the laugh-out-loud satire of “Korean Parents” to the melancholy “I Miss You” – a love song “for my first wife while I was married to my second one,” Newman said – to the upbeat children’s song “Simon Smith.”

Some of the evening’s best lines came between songs. “The World Isn’t Fair” was prefaced by a story about his son’s progressive pre-school where they would “sit around on cushions and come home with lice every couple weeks” He led into “I’m Dead (But I Don’t Know It),” a screed about rock stars who don’t know when to retire, by explaining “no one is applauding at home” and “no one is going to tell Paul his best work was with Wings.”

Every song was a highlight, but several numbers stood apart. “Dixie Flyer,” a song about Newman’s emigration from the Bayou State to Los Angeles, segued into “Louisiana 1927,” a historical recount of the great Mississippi flood. Two songs named after cities, “Birmingham” and “Baltimore,” were powerful paeans to the working class in decaying towns.

Although the generous setlist encompassed Newman’s entire catalog, it tipped toward his last two releases. All but one song from this year’s wonderful “Harps and Angels” was performed. That album provided one of the better political songs in recent memory, “A Few Words in Defense of Our Country.”

Newman let his songs do his stumping for him. Several of the numbers he wrote more than 30 years ago, like the bomb-happy “Political Science” and the plea “Mr. President (Have Pity on the Working Man)” sadly have a contemporary relevance.

Today, Newman is better known for his sweeping film scores and Pixar songs than stinging lyrics and clever songwriting. He did OK with only 88 keys to replicate his orchestrations. His more complicated songs, like “A Piece of the Pie” and “Harps and Angels” survived the transition more or less intact. “Love Song (You and Me)” actually sounded better stripped down.

Like many of his generation’s best songwriters – Bob Dylan, Neil Young and Tom Waits come to mind – Newman’s froggy voice is an acquired taste that is easily parodied. Saturday’s magical immersion in Newman’s world of five centuries of European history in three minutes (“The Great Nations of Europe”), senior forgetfulness (“Potholes”) and erotic humor (“You Can Leave Your Hat On”) was more than enough to convert the few who carried any reservations into the theater and leave the devoted a performance to cherish.

Setlist: It’s the Money That I Love/My Life Is Good/Marie/Short People/Birmingham/Bad News From Home/The World Isn’t Fair/Korean Parents/I Miss You/Simon Smith and the Amazing Dancing Bear/A Few Words in Defense of Our Country/Laugh and Be Happy/Losing You/You Can Leave Your Hat On/I’m Dead (But I Don’t Know It)/Political Science/<intermission>/Mr. President (Have Pity on the Working Man)/The Great Nations of Europe/Potholes/In Germany Before the War/Baltimore/Only A Girl/Love Story (You and Me)/Real Emotional Girl/You’ve Got a Friend in Me/Harps and Angels/Dixie Flyer/Louisiana 1927/Guilty/I Love L.A./God’s Song (That’s Why I Love Mankind)/A Piece of the Pie/I Think It’s Going to Rain Today/<encores>/It’s Lonely at the Top/Feels Like Home

Below: Because you were going to Google it anyway….

Dave Brubeck and Charles Mingus – “Non-Sectarian Blues”

by thedailyrecord, posted in review

By Joel Francis

The unlikely pairing of Dave Brubeck and Charles Mingus at a London film studio should have been a collision of worlds on par with the big bang.

In the early sixties, Brubeck was rewriting the jazz songbook with his legendary quartet that featured Paul Desmond, drummer Joe Morello and bass player Eugene Wright. Signed to Columbia Records, home to both Miles Davis and Doris Day, their “cool jazz” was both critically acclaimed and extremely accessible. In other words, it was jazz both hardcore fans and housewives could appreciate.

Charles Mingus, on the other hand, was the dark prince from the underbelly of the genre. His dense, avant-garde approach carried discordant melodies and boasted nearly impenetrable titles like “Pithecanthropus Erectus” and “If Charlie Parker Were a Gunslinger, There’d Be a Whole Lot of Dead Copycats.” He was on the threshold of a three-album deal with Impulse Records, the jazz label John Coltrane helped transform into the bastion of cutting-edge, experimental music.

Although Mingus and Brubeck’s music was world apart, the bassman and pianist first crossed paths in the post-War San Francisco jazz scene. The two met again in 1962 at Pinewood Studios in London.

The unfathomable union of Brubeck and Mingus occurred under the most commercial circumstances. Brubeck had been hired to write the score for “All Night Long,” a modern telling of “Othello” starring Richard Attenborough. In the liner notes to the 1991 Brubeck box set “Time Changes,” he describes their encounter.

“My contract for the film specified I would not play with Charlie Mingus, because I knew how demanding Charlie could be and I just wanted to avoid it. It was out of respect,” Brubeck said.

“And fear,” he added.

Mingus, who had also been hired to score certain scenes, kept bugging the director to play with Brubeck. Finally, Brubeck relented – with three stipulations: no rehearsal, no synching and no overdubbing. Everything had to be live and off-the-cuff.

With those rules in place, the pair decided upon a Mingus composition. “Non-Sectarian Blues” begins with Mingus thumping borrowed bass, walking the beat as Brubeck joins in on the piano. Mingus can be heard grunting and shouting encouragement to Brubeck as the pair play off each other with staccato piano riffs and pulsing, aggressive baselines. The result is so natural and engaging it’s hard to believe these men came from such seemingly disparate camps.

Although the song was recorded in1962, the performance remained unheard outside theaters until the Brubeck collection “Summit Sessions” was released in 1971.

“When it was over, Charlie picked me up off the floor and gave me a bear hug,” Brubeck said. “It was wonderful.”

Review: Buddy and Bettye at Roots N Blues N BBQ Fest 2008

by thedailyrecord, posted in review

By Joel Francis

Buddy Guy

Buddy Guy is to the electric guitar what a match is to kerosene.

The 68-year-old blues legend lit into opening number “Best Damn Fool” like a house afire and closed out the Roots ‘n Blues ‘n BBQ Festival Saturday night in Columbia, Mo. with 90 minutes of barn-burning blues that skimmed through the encyclopedia of the genre.

After starting with a cut from his new album, “Skin Deep,” Guy tore through his classic “Hoodoo Man.” The song culminated with a guitar duel between Guy and his backing guitarist, who was more than capable of holding his own. After whipping the song into a frenzy, Guy put a finger to his lips and hushed both the crowd and his band. In whisper silence he noodled into “Love Her With a Feeling,” which merged with “She’s Nineteen Years Old.”

Guy’s mind is as frenetic as his fingers. He rarely plays a song all the way through, opting to mine the most joyous parts, then skip along to the next number that races through is brain. He treated the audience to a nearly two full minutes of his signature number “Damn Right I’ve Got the Blues,” before remembering he played Peggy Lee’s “Fever” at his last gig in Columbia 15 years ago and gave them all of that instead. No one seemed to mind.

“Boom Boom,” a tribute to John Lee Hooker, suddenly inspired “Strange Brew” and a shout-out to Eric Clapton and Cream. Guy hopped offstage and wandered through a shoulder-to-shoulder crowd a block deep and half a block wide to deliver “Drowning on Dry Land” and B.B. King’s “Rock Me Baby.”

Like a woman plied with one drink too many, Guy was able to coax things from his guitar beyond its natural limits. Armed with a cream-colored Fender Stratocaster instead of his trademark polka dot model, Guy hopped on a wah wah peddle to riff over the intro of Jimi Hendrix’ “Voodoo Child” before launching into Muddy Water’s “I Just Want To Make Love To You.”

The night ended with “Out in the Woods,” a boast about taming wild beasts. It was a great closing number, but also slightly redundant – at this point, Guy no longer had to prove how bad he was.

Bettye LaVette

In a perfect world, Bettye LaVette would be enjoying the same kind of success Tina Turner receives today.

After 47 years in the business and five years into her renaissance, LaVette’s raspy voice – no doubt enhanced by years of working smoky dives – is informed and enhanced by the pain and frustration of her wilderness years.

Her performance of early songs like “My Man – He’s A Lovin’ Man,” “Let Me Down Easy” and “Right in the Middle (Of Falling in Love)” hint at the career that could have been. But Lavette is not bitter. She can deliver a line like “I’ve been bruised, hurt and cheated on/ but still they couldn’t break me” (from “Close As I’ll Get to Heaven”) with both honesty and a smile.

Clad in a sleeveless black shirt and tight black pants, LaVette swayed and strutted across the stage channeling every note from her band, completely invested in every lyric. She added a swagger to her reading of “Joy” that songwriter Lucinda Williams could only dream of. Likewise, she added a level of sensuality to Leonard Cohen’s “You Don’t Know Me At All” unheard in the original. The sashay of her hips to a sizzling guitar solo said more than any of the verses.

Two years ago, LaVette put on a breathtaking performance at the Folly Theater in Kansas City. She was even better in the open air in Columbia and her band was the difference. For the earlier date, LaVette was backed by musicians who, like her, had been catapulted from juke joints to concert halls. Unlike her, they were not ready for the spotlight. Her new, four-piece band was tighter, funkier and able to keep up. They added a wash of psychedelic soul to “Sleep to Dream” and a superb gospel feel to “Choices.”

LaVette closed her 75-minute set with a riveting a cappella performance of a Sinead O’Connor song that summed up her life today: “I have all that I requested/And I do not want what I haven’t got.”

Doyle Bramhall

Drummer Doyle Bramhall grew up playing with the Vaughan brothers, so it makes sense that his Texas blues oscillate between the smooth strut of Jimmie and the rough and rocky bluster of  Stevie Ray. Unfortunately, there’s not much in between.

His five-piece band could turn it up when needed, like on a spirited cover of “Keep A Knockin’,” but for the most part they were content to keep the meat in the smoker instead of taking it out and slathering on the sauce.

Bramhall’s hour-plus set ran through songs from his solo catalog like “Top Rank Boxing” and “Cryin'” and a couple numbers he wrote with Stevie Ray. Predictably, “Change It” and “The House Is A Rockin’,” which closed the set, drew the greatest cheers.

Review: The Temptations and Four Tops

by thedailyrecord, posted in Kansas City Star, Motown, review
(Above: Are they still tempting? “Papa Was A Rolling Stone” in 2008.)

By Joel Francis
The Kansas City Star

Halfway into his band’s set Saturday night at Starlight, Otis Williams, the last living original member of the Temptations, dedicated the evening’s performance to the late Motown producer Norman Whitfield.

It was fitting. Whitfield wrote several of the hits showcased during the night, like “Cloud Nine,” “Papa Was A Rolling Stone” and “Ain’t Too Proud To Beg.” It also matched the unofficial theme of the night: honoring the contributions of the departed.

The absence of late Temptations frontmen Eddie Kendricks and David Ruffin was obvious from the opening notes of “The Way You Do The Things You Do.” The group sounded good and the performance was strong, but something was missing.

Your verdict on the success of the show depends on how well you thought lead singer Bruce Williamson did filling some impossibly large shoes. It would be easy to cynically dismiss the night as nothing more than overblown karaoke, but it’s very hard to ignore the energy and delight they delivered to the crowd. The truth is these songs are so strong they sound good no matter who is singing them.

After opening with a cover of Marvin Gaye’s “How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You),” the Temps plowed through their classic catalog for nearly 30 minutes without taking a break. Every song had everyone on their feet, singing along.

Backed by a 10-piece horn section and four-piece band, the vocal quintet nimbly hopped from the propulsive “Ball of Confusion” to the tenderness of “I Wish it Would Rain” and the frustration of “Can’t Get Next To You.”

The only time the band veered from their prime years was to deliver a couple ballads. They also spiced up the set by performing a couple lesser-known numbers from their early Motown years. By the time they rolled into “My Girl” near the end of their 90-minute set it felt like the perfect conclusion. Unfortunately the song was followed by “Can I Get A Witness,” another Marvin Gaye cover. Despite its gospel flavor, the anti-climactic number trigged an exodus for the parking lot.

The Four Tops kicked off the night with a one-hour set. Although they sported as many original members – one – as the Temptations, they did not fare as well. The retirement of longtime lead singer Levi Stubbs was accentuated by slick production that was more Branson than Motown. Save for a pair of medleys that bookended the set, the band’s 1960s heyday was bypassed for ballads that bogged the momentum.

A tour-de-force cover of Heat Wave’s “Always and Forever” that included a long spoken introduction and tender, affecting vocals from Stubbs’ replacement Theo Peoples, drew the quartet’s biggest applause.

Although Starlight was far from sold out – partitions blocked off the back seating section and plenty of other empty chairs remained – few fans seemed concerned by the new faces singing the old songs. The consensus seemed to be, if these guys weren’t keeping the music and memories alive, would would? It’s a good question that doesn’t have an easy answer.

Setlists: Four Tops – Baby I Need Your Loving/Bernadette/It’s the Same Old Song/Just Walk Away/Still Water/Something About You/Ask the Lonely/Ain’t No Woman (Like the One I Got)/Always and Forever/Reach Out I’ll Be There/Standing in the Shadow of Love/I Can’t Help Myself (Sugar Pie Honey Bunch)

Temptations: How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)/The Way You Do The Things You Do/Ain’t Too Proud To Beg/Ball of Confusion/I Wish It Would Rain/Just My Imagination/Papa Was A Rolling Stone/Can’t Get Next To You/You Are So Necessary In My Life/Get Ready/Treat Her Like A Lady/You’re My Everything/The Girl’s Alright With Me/Cloud Nine/Psychedelic Shack/My Girl/Can I Get A Witness

Review: Robert Plant and Allison Krauss

by thedailyrecord, posted in review


Above: Plant and Krauss get “In the Mood.”

By Joel Francis

Robert Plant may never outlive the shadow of his onetime partner Jimmy Page, but Tuesday night at Starlight he showed unimaginable growth with his unlikely new muse, bluegrass legend Allison Krauss.

The pair’s 23 song, two-hour set explored nearly every facet of American music with a subtly, nuance and beauty Plant’s former four-piece could only dream of. From a rockabilly cover of Ray Charles’ “Leave My Woman Alone” to Leadbelly’s “In the Pines” the pair’s voices waltzed in perfect, egoless harmony.

Clad in all black, Plant slinked around the stage like a cat burglar before spontaneously hopping into a spry dance step. Krauss stood in contrast in a bright floral dress, sporting a wide smile and, frequently, a violin on her shoulder.

“Black Dog” was reworked with a banjo delivering the main riff as Plant and Krauss’s voices circled each other on the call-and-response chorus. A spellbinding reading of “Killing the Blues” in the encore set may have been the ultimate demonstration of their musical synergy.

The hammer of the gods may have been missing, but classics like “When the Levee Breaks” (to which Plant snuck a snippet of Bob Dylan’s “Girl of the North Country”) and “Black Country Woman” had plenty of thunder. A cover of Townes Van Zandt’s “Nothin'” outrocked ‘em all, though. A harrowing tale of addiction much in the same vein as John Lennon’s “Cold Turkey,” one could feel the symptoms of withdrawal dripping from the stage as Plant unleashed a couple of his trademark primal wails.

It would be easy for a rocker of Plant’s status to command the stage and bring a captivating performance, but he was very much a team player. He turned the stage over to Krauss for a stunning a cappella reading of “Down to the River to Pray” (boosted by the stellar backing vocals of guitarist Buddy Miller and fiddle/banjo/mandolin player Stuart Duncan) and a haunting version of Tom Waits’ “Trampled Rose.” Even bandleader T-Bone Burnett, producer of Krauss and Plant’s “Raising Sand” album, the “O Brother Where Art There Soundtrack” got the spotlight for a song.

Other highlights included a chipper “Gone Gone Gone” performed in front of a shimmering gold curtain that helped the song feel like an autumn road trip. Plant’s solo hit “In the Mood” was married to the Irish melody of “Matty Groves” and was a welcome surprise. “The Battle of Evermore” was the rare Zeppelin number that wasn’t radically reworked.

The assembly of Miller, Duncan, Burnett, acoustic bass player Dennis Crouch and drummer Jay Bellerose defy the term “backing band.” Their collective resumes include work with Waits, Elvis Costello, Beck, Emmylou Harris and Steve Earle, to name a few. Amazing songwriters and musicians in their own right, each of these guys are more than capable of mesmerizing solo performances. Together, they might be the greatest band of ringers ever assembled.

The wealth of material worked up for this tour begs for proper release on an encore collaboration or concert release. The entire evening was a treat that deserves to be relived as many times as possible. Hopefully the tour of a lifetime will be preserved for even longer.

Martha and the Vandellas – “Dancing in the Street”

by thedailyrecord, posted in Motown, review

Martha and the Vandellas – “Dancing in the Street,” Pop #2

By Joel Francis

Poor, poor Kim Weston. Had she not passed on this song, she may be remembered for that being Marvin Gaye’s first duet partner. Instead, Martha Reeves got to place another jewel in her crown.

Funk Brother Benny Benjamin’s great drumming and the incessant, propulsive tambourine get the feet going before Marta Reeves opens her mouth. But once she does, Reeves embraces every syllable with her full voice, squeezing each note for maximum pleasure. The single was released at the end of July, 1964, but its not hard to imagine that even in the dead of winter, legions of listeners would heeded Reeves “invitation across the nation” and joined her in the streets.

The growing race riots throughout America soon cast the song in a different light. (Five years later, the Rolling Stones recast the number into the dark, political anthem “Street Fighting Man.”) It’s hard to erase the imprint that history has left on the number, but the heart of Reeves’ words is utopia: Whoever you are, whatever you wear, wherever you’re from, get outside, grab a guy (or gal) and dance. “All we need is music, sweet music.” If only life were this simple.

Like many of Motown’s signature songs, cover versions abound. The Kinks and The Who cut versions earlier in their career. Both fail to capture the joy in Reeves singing and translate the large soul arrangement to a rock quartet. Artists as diverse as Dusty Springfield, the Grateful Dead and the Carpenters also tackled the song.

Van Halen propelled the song back onto the charts nearly 20 years after the Vandellas’ hit. Eddie Van Halen’s post-disco keyboard part transforms the arrangement as Diamond Dave – never one to miss a party – celebrates the lyrics. The song is a high point on one of the group’s most puzzling albums. “Diver Down” contains not one, but two Kinks covers (which should provide a clue as to why they decided to do “Streets”), a polka featuring Alex and Eddie’s dad on clarinet, and closes with “Happy Trails.”

No discussion of “Dancing in the Street” would be complete without mentioning the horrific, oh-my-god-look-away cover performed by David Bowie and Mick Jagger. While the intent was noble – a charity single for Live Aid – the results were anything but. It didn’t help that the song was delivered at the nadir of these legendary careers. Bowie had just completed his dance-happy “Tonight” album and Jagger was in the middle of “She’s the Boss” and attempting to break up his legendary band. The production is sickeningly slick and the vocals sound tossed off. Never ones to be swayed by taste, the public sent the song to No. 7 on the U.S. chart (and clear to No. 1 elsewhere in the world).

The most intriguing version of “Dancing in the Streets” may not exist. I maintain a secret hope that somewhere there is a demo version of Marvin Gaye’s original performance. I have no idea if tape was rolling when Gaye, who co-wrote the song with Mickey Stevenson, presented the song to Reeves or if he attempted to cut a guide vocal, but I am optimistic an unmarked reel in the Motown archives will be unearthed and reveal this treasure. I got my hopes up a few years ago when the “Cellarful of Motown” rarities compilation was released, but so far nothing has surfaced. In the meantime, Martha and the Vandellas will more than suffice.

Shine on Rick Wright

by thedailyrecord, posted in Kansas City music scene, review

Above: “Comfortably Numb” from the 1994 tour.

By Joel Francis

Seven a.m. Saturday morning, is a brutal time to be awake, particularly when you’re 16. It was even worse in the cold weather we faced that day, standing in line outside the Hy-Vee grocery store. But no one among the 300 or so of us lined up where complaining: Pink Floyd was coming to Kansas City.

It was the biggest crowd I’d seen at Hy-Vee. Guys were walking inside to buy six-packs of liquid warmth, passing cans along the line and relieving themselves against the wall. Elderly, crack-of-dawn shoppers paused in front of the assembly and asked if they could go right in. One old lady asked why we were all waiting in the cold. One guy responded we were hoping for a sale on melons. That drew a big laugh.

In the days before the Internet, you had to buy tickets in person. Although the gonzo days of camping out at the box office were long past, it still paid to show up somewhat early. At some point management would pass out line numbers to the assembly, then draw a number at random. The person holding that number was first and the line started from there. If you showed up after line numbers were distributed you (hopefully) got bad seats or heard those two dreaded words – sold out.

Finally our effort was rewarded. Upper deck, 40-yard line. Not the greatest seats, but we were in. The remaining tickets were long gone by dinnertime. Even though the band was playing Arrowhead Stadium, the largest venue in town, it was one of the fastest sell-outs in local history.

Winter gave way to spring and the excitement built. At long last the tour commenced at Joe Robbie Stadium in Miami. As the psychedelic trio snaked their way across America I was inadvertently trailing them. A church trip found us in Columbus, Ohio the night of the show. I remember the drunken revelry waking me in our motel room as the joyous throng returned. It was hard falling back asleep with that much energy flowing just outside the door. My summer job took me to Minnesota the day after the band played Minneapolis. Everywhere I went people were talking Pink. It was the summer of Floyd.

On June 20 the Pink Floyd descended on Kansas City. Our newspaper, The Star, ran a two-page chronicle of the band’s history. One fan interviewed for the story bragged about the line of dates he had tattooed on his arm – one for each time he’d seen the band. Some lucky, longtime fans had seen them play Kemper Arena on the Animals Tour in 1977. A lot more had seen them play Arrowhead just seven years earlier on the Delicate Sound of Thunder tour. I had never seen them before, but I didn’t care. I was getting to experience them now.

As the sun lowered over Interstate-70, Stadium Drive was gridlocked. People were openly smoking weed and drinking in their cars. They hopped out to take a leak behind trees and bushes in lawns along the way. One large bush was particularly popular, but when an overweight woman decided to use it about a dozen guys hurriedly scattered back to their vehicles.

There was a popular grocery store commercial where Arrowhead Stadium was transformed into a BBQ grill and smoke rose from the bowl as meat sizzled on its field. I imagine passing cars were treated to a similar spectacle as everyone inside lit whatever they brought to mellow out before the show. The band opened with “Astronomy Domine,” but thanks to The Star we already knew that. They didn’t do the complete “Dark Side of the Moon,” but we got several of its stronger tracks, including “The Great Gig in the Sky” and “Breathe.” Two vicious pigs emerged from the speaker towers during “One of These Days.”

The most powerful moment for me was “Comfortably Numb.” During “Numb” a huge mirror ball emerged from the soundboard and effects area near the back of the field. At the point where the song fades out on record, David Gilmour was just getting started. He laid into a ferocious solo as the mirror ball opened and slowly rotated. The 80,000-seat stadium was transformed into an intimate campfire as Gilmour, keyboard player Rick Wright, drummer Nick Mason and their accompanying musicians kept building and building. After what seemed like a rapturous eternity, the song thundered to an end and the band said left the stage. The encore set of “Hey You” and a searing version of “Run Like Hell” was a great coda to a spectacular evening.

Preserved for nearly 15 years, these memories came flooding back to me when I learned that Rick Wright lost his battle to cancer today. I saw Roger Waters on his solo tour at Kemper Arena in 1999 – he premiered the song “Each Small Candle” at our concert. I was surprised at how excited I got watching the quartet finally reunite on live TV in London just hours before the Get Up Kids final show at the Uptown Theater in 2005. Honestly, though, the Floyd haven’t been a major part of my listening diet for a long time. I guess the same thing that kept me away from their records for so long brought me closer to Rick Wright today – I can cue up any of his notes from any of their albums any time I want in my head.

Set list: (opening set) Astronomy Domine, Learning To Fly, Whad Do You Want From Me, On the Turning Away, Poles Apart, Take It Back, Sorrow, Keep Talking, One Of These Days //(second set) Shine On You Crazy Diamond, Breathe, Time, Breathe Rep, High Hopes, The Great Gig In the Sky, Wish You Were Here, Us and Them, Money, Another Brick in the Wall (part two), Comfortably Numb//(encores) Hey You, Run Like Hell