When rock bands have to remind audiences that they’re rocking, they only come across as desperate. Similarly, rappers who lack lyrical ideas often write about hip-hop itself, duping fans into mistaking bankrupt inspiration for a genuine ode to the art form. If George Acosta’s History of Trance offers any indication, electronic albums that advertise their affiliation in their titles can’t…
Phone rings at Caitlin Cary’s, and it’s Ryan Adams, her bandmate from ’90s country revivalists Whiskeytown. He starts gushing about his new album, Cold Roses: “It’s like the old days,” he says, and Cary congratulates him for returning to the rootsy sound that made him (and fiddle player Cary) popular in the first place. But deep down, Cary is seething….
Mick Collins hails from Detroit but lives in a parallel universe — one in which a vinyl-collecting goofball can actually make records that are as fun, ripping and powerful as those of his jukebox heroes. This stuffed collection of singles is the document that proves it. Disc one is all originals, spanning power-pop, Euro-punk and “garage rock” (a term Collins…
Rappers and punks take pains to make their rebellious postures seem offhand. Shakira, meanwhile, doesn’t draw attention to her nonconformist tendencies — but make no mistake, she just don’t give a fuck. The Colombian superstar gave her 2001 crossover album (Laundry Service) and subsequent stadium-hopping stint (Tour of the Mongoose) bizarre yet covertly philosophical titles, then stunned unsuspecting audiences with…
Foo Fighters hits are so commercial-jingle catchy, it’s miraculous that rock music made it some five decades without someone stumbling upon such glaringly obvious melodies. The hooks from “Hero” and “Learn to Fly,” for example, must have drifted straight from the primordial mists, waiting for someone to harness their undeniable enthusiasm. The opening track from the Foo Fighters’ latest two-disc…
A native of Kansas City’s suburban sprawl, Thomas Kelley Webb defected to New York City years ago, taking with him his Delta-blues-infused acoustic sound and Midwestern narratives of pain and disparity. The big city has been good to Webb. He has released two albums on Atomic Records and gone on tour with the likes of the Bloodthirsty Lovers and other…
Nebraska is home to so much more than hate crimes and endless fields of crops. It has culture. It has music. It has tall, corn-fed indie-rockers — Denver Dalley, for example. Formerly of Desaparecidos (with Conor Oberst, also of Bright Eyes), Dalley has been occupied with his one-man plan, Statistics, since 2003. When he broke away from Desa’s harsher sound,…
Jason Vance loves his job — but his role in the Captured By Robots saga would break a lesser man. After all, he is enslaved by six robots (four of them bitchy, two sweet as sugar) and forced to go onstage, intestines spilling out of his shirt, and play soul and punk rock, accompanied, naturally, by his robot captors. According…
After bumbling around the St. Louis scene for years, Ludo has finally begun proving itself as a little band that could. Last year, thanks to legions of online voters, the regional rockers played a coveted showcase at Austin’s South by Southwest Music Festival and were hailed by Fuse TV as a “next big thing.” What’s attracted the devotion of teenage…
A Wellsville, Kansas, native who performed in Branson as a teenager, Chely Wright still plays rural outposts on both sides of the Mo-Kan border. Her current tour includes stops in Savannah, Missouri, and Garnett, Kansas, where the gold-selling artist will be guest of honor at the Anderson Valley Corn Festival. (Perhaps her country commutes will inspire future material.) On her…
The evening before Matson Jones’ latest Midwest tour, the band’s drummer, Ross Harada, was tinkering with the $1.99 thrift-store Casio that, until recently, had become a signature part of the band’s coolest songs. He was a little anxious; if he couldn’t fix it, the band would have to retire (or at least rework) a couple of tunes. Evidently, that Casio…
Toko Yasuda is hot. Besides her flawless complexion, her impeccable taste in clothing and eye makeup, and her effortless command of both keyboard and bass, the female third of Enon is a master at both demure, come-hither coos and balls-out howls. Add that pretty package to the Dance-Party-USA-on-Ecstasy that the music of this Brooklyn-born band inspires, and you’ve got something…
Music still mattered to Elevator Division after its members each lost a family member in March. In fact, it became more essential than ever. But the business aspect of the creative process suddenly seemed crass. Elevator Division songs have always pursued arena-anthem ambitions, but singer James Hoskins no longer cared about reaching a stadium stage. “When you experience pain, it…
We have this friend who’s obsessed with Jonathan Richman. She’s fine, really, until something reminds her of a Richman lyric. Which happens pretty much every day. It’s like how Seinfeld fanatics can’t go to bakeries, airline ticket counters or parking garages without saying, “Remember that episode … ?” Richman, like Seinfeld, is an observationist — he’s spot-on with his musings…
While on deadline for this column, the Wayward Son undertook a hazardous experiment. He drove from the Pitch to 7th Heaven, the famous record store on Troost, and on the way, he summoned up his inner rapper (nom de microphone: MC Lyrical Harpoon), called his office and chanted the following line four times to his voice mail: Left my wallet…
When talking with hip-hop producer Prince Paul, there’s a temptation to focus on the early years. The way-way-back days of the early ’80s, when he was 16 or 17 years old and working with Stetsasonics, the first band to integrate a live drum set with rap. Or maybe you want to mention his efforts on a little album from De…
Forget Mad Hot Ballroom. The real dance documentary hit of the summer is more likely to be Rize. After all, which do you think the kids are going to find more appealing: formal steps that require suits, partners and schoolteachers, or shaking the booty and slamming into fellow dancers while sporting war paint or clown makeup? Well, duh. One of…
Bewitched may go down as the first movie about a fictional failed actor that creates a real-life failed actor. This hackneyed, hapless, utterly useless redo of an overrated 1960s sitcom is excruciating to sit through for a dozen reasons. But nothing is less tolerable than the sight of Will Ferrell being hung out to dry by Nora Ephron, who…
Blunt talk: I’m reading the June 16 letters to the editor section (one of my favorite things to do, by the way), and I’m blown away at the reaction of a simple article regarding Wakarusa (Wayward Son by Jason Harper, June 9). Lighten up, smoke a bowl and then read the Pitch. Hell, maybe if you’re feeling ambitious today, bake…
Jimmy the Fetus Hey, kids, Jimmy the Fetus here, your guide to moral values in the Midwest, helping everybody see that what we learned in Sunday school really matters. Dear Jimmy: Did you see Tom Cruise go mental on Oprah? Do you think that shit is catching? Doug Fairway Dear Doug: You have little to fear that Tom’s bizarre brain…
The revival of women’s roller derby in Kansas City began in March with a grudge match. In the opening minutes, a member of the Bionics rounded a corner too sharply, collided with one of the Dogfighting Dames and landed hard. As the skater regained her feet, someone in the sellout crowd shouted, “Oh, my God, they tore that girl’s arm…
A lawyer who is a campaign contributor and close adviser to Kansas City, Missouri, Mayor Kay Barnes is doing highly lucrative legal work for the city, charging $370 an hour for his services. Herb Kohn is a senior partner at Bryan Cave, the law firm the city has chosen to represent it in its efforts to build a new arena…
The Pitch has learned that an unsettling discovery made nearly two months ago by workers excavating land for a new downtown arena has put that project in doubt. On April 25, workers digging at the site of the former UMB Bank branch at Grand Avenue and Truman Road discovered human remains and immediately contacted authorities, records obtained by the Pitch…
I don’t eat chicken wings. I can’t blame vegetarianism (I have a natural proclivity for cheeseburgers), and PETA has no piece of my heart. (I’ve been known to wear fur — until it was trendy, of course — and all my best bags are leather.) I just think they’re gross. Something about gnawing on bones sodden with sticky, orange sauce…
