Chicago stokes the Interlochen crowd

So the Reliving My Youth Tour continues, from Elvis Costello and Steely Dan to Return to Forever. Wednesday it was Chicago and my high school pal Vince motored up from Newaygo to take in the show. What a great time, and a great band. Vince had seen them twice before, but said this was the most energetic he'd seen them. Certainly the Interlochen crowd had something to do with that, roaring thunderous approval for the hits.

The band started with the suite "Ballet for a Girl in Buchannon," including "Make Me Smile" and "Colour My World." Surprisingly, on the latter trumpet player Lee Loughnane took the lead vocal. Keyboardist Lou Pardini sang lead on the rest. That versatility was one of the strengths of the band. When the group first started out it had three lead vocalists. Now it has five, including guitarist Keith Howland, bassist Jason Scheff, and founding member and keyboardist Robert Lamm.

And don't forget all the hits. The audience was treated to "Dialogue," "Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?" "You're the Inspiration," "Saturday in the Park," "Beginnings" and a host more. The band was dynamic and in great form, and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves. Scheff was a highlight, singing Peter Cetera's features as if they were created for him, and holding down the bottom end. The horns - trombonist James Pankow, saxophonist Ray Hermann (subbing for Walter Parazaider) and Loughnane - were almost always in sync, no matter where they were prowling the stage.

Maybe they prowled a little too much. The advent of wireless mics for not only the vocalists but the horns allowed, nay, encouraged everyone to wander about the stage. It's great to have stage presence and all, but after a while, all the traipsing around gets a bit distracting. Pankow, creator of many of the band's arrangements as well as writing "Ballet for a Girl in Buchannon" and other songs, was bouncing around stage so much it appeared as if he nearly missed some cues. When Robert Lamm introduced him, he suggested that for any trombonist to be successful, it helped to be inhibited. He said it in jest, but I've gotta confess, a little inhibition would have been welcome. I found Pankow's antics borderline obnoxious.

Final complaint was the sound. It lacked the definition of earlier shows, such as Elvis Costello or Steely Dan. It seemed as if there was a huge cacophony at a certain frequency, from the upper register of the trombone to the cymbals and even some of the vocals. And the booming bass drum sounds were really unnecessary. I'm wondering if the amplification of the drums and percussion could have simply been taken down a few levels, as the nature of the instrument cuts through everything anyway, and if that wouldn't have improved the sonics throughout.

Despite these criticisms, however, the show was thoroughly enjoyable. Having not seen the band previously, it was a joy to finally hear such classic tracks as "Beginnings" and "Free." I would have loved to hear classic earlier material like "Introduction" and "Questions 67 and 68," though I knew that wouldn't happen, as Loughnane had warned me in an interview a couple weeks ago that that wouldn't be happening. Like Steely Dan, Chicago was a band I listened to incessantly from high school through college, though the sappy Cetera ballads left me cold. Hearing the group live - finally - was a treat.

Return to Forever returns again

Chick Corea. Lenny White. Stanley Clarke. The core of the legendary Return to Forever, now joined by Jean-Luc Ponty and Frank Gambale as Return to Forever IV, played Meadowbrook Friday. What a band, and what a show. I was a big Weather Report fan and a huge Jaco fan, but RTF was BURNING. They wowed the crowd. Great tunes like Chick Corea's "Spain" and Stanley Clarke's magnum opus "School Days" alongside RTF classics like "Romantic Warrior" and "The Sorceress" - it don't get no better.

Jean-Luc Ponty was a great addition to the band. Having played with Clarke and former RTF guitarist Al Di Meola on The Rite of Strings and in Mahavishnu Orchestra, he's familiar with a role of featured soloist as well as leading his own fusion groups. He effortlessly switched back and forth from electric violin to amplified acoustic.

And make no mistake, this is one wicked fusion band. Corea was dynamic and affable, Clarke was on fire, and drummer White was pounding the skins like there was no tomorrow. The newcomers, Ponty and guitarist Gambale, were perfect in their roles, though Gambale could have been more prominent in the mix.

The crowd helped launch them into the stratosphere. The all-but-sold-out crowd was on its feet from the start, and with good reason. Corea hasn't slowed down a lick, despite pushing 70 around. The maestro, as Clarke referred to him, kept things rolling along. The acoustic numbers were just as energetic as the electric ones. Gambale was especially brilliant here.

The band is ostensibly touring behind Forever, the 2-CD set comprised mostly of acoustic trio performances along with contributions from guests Ponty, Chaka Khan and original RTF guitarist Bill Connors. This tour was originally supposed to include Connors, but Gambale was a felicitous choice in his stead. Forever is a fabulous disc, but how about a new Return to Forever CD? Hopefully the band goes into the studio to cut some new material. And if that's the case, how 'bout including a bonus disc from this tour? I know RTF released Returns two years ago, a two-disc concert performance of the quartet tour from 2008 with Di Meola, but adding some of this fabulous, flashy set would be a highlight. If your doubt, check Youtube.

Opener Zappa Plays Zappa was fine and the Zappa fans in the audience were enthused. I was, well, less so as it reminded me of why I wasn't a Zappa fan. Too little melody, and the vocals were contrived rather than musical. But there was no doubting the mettle of the players, especially Frank's little boy Dweezil. It would be great to hear him ripping away on originals, but he's dedicated to preserving Frank's legacy. So be it.

Best concert in history?

When Kurt Elling gave a bravura performance earlier this summer at Corson Auditorium, I was sure it would be the concert of the summer. No matter what else was coming (quite a bit, as it turned out, from Return to Forever IV to the Tubes to Barrage), his performance was so warm, ingratiating, and spectacular it couldn't be topped.

Elling is almost without question today's premiere male jazz vocalist. His voice has warmed over the years, and he's now so comfortable performing that it reminds one of a professional athlete who is so good he just makes it look easy. Am I dating myself if I think of Tigers centerfielder Mickey Stanley? Elling is that effortless, yet he and his band played magnificently. Pianist Laurence Hobgood was brilliant, and his substitute rhythm section of Erik Privert on bass and especially the brilliant Pete Van Nostrand on drums was fantastic.

But with apologies to Kurt, his show is now only second best. The Steely Dan show Monday may be this veteran concert-goer's #1 show EVER. It was that good. As a 50-something, the sounds of the Dan were a soundtrack to my life in high school and college, generally the most formative years of anyone's life. Add to that the fact they stopped touring in '74, before they produced such brilliant albums as The Royal Scam and Aja, and then broke up after Gaucho. Probably never to return.

But ah, they did, and finally, 15 years later, here they were in northern Michigan. The crowd was electric as the band took the stage, with Becker and Fagen finally joining them. I don't even remember what the first couple tunes were, but when they played the opening notes of "Aja," the crowd went berserk. Or maybe it was just me. Nah, it was pretty much everybody. Walt Weiskopf took the saxophone spotlight, and Keith Carlock nailed the drums with all the passion and precision Steve Gadd brought to the original. It was a highlight, one of many.

Like, so many it was hard to keep track. "Black Cow" and "Peg" from Aja, a trio of tracks from Gaucho, a killer arrangement of "Reelin' in the Years" that melded the original guitar-heavy version from their debut disc Can't Buy a Thrill and the latter-day piano-filled one from Alive in America. Perhaps most surprising was the inclusion of "Dirty Work" from Thrill, replacing original vocalist David Palmer (remember him?) with the Embassy Brats, the backing trio of Cindy Mizelle, Catherine Russell, and my pal Carolyn Leonhart Escoffery (more on that momentarily).

By the end of the concert, the auditorium was a quarter empty - as the fans rushed the stage to bob and dance. "Kid Charlemagne," "Bodhisattva," "Peg," all joyfully embraced by a crowd that was as loud as any I've ever heard at Interlochen. The band was magnificent, Becker and Jon Herrington sharing stinging lead guitar work. Carlock was a wiz, fiery and dynamic. Fagen's voice isn't as elastic as when he was in his 20s and 30s, and could/should have been a little more prominent in the mix, but it was the unmistakable sound that graced the turntables and radios of my youth and that of and the rest of the crowd. The horns and singers, bass and keyboards all added just the right amount of sass and brass.

I've seen favorite artists like Yes and Todd Rundgren over a dozen times each, but it's the single times I've seen some artists that still stand out: Squeeze in Grand Rapids, Ronnie Montrose at a disco in East Lansing, Jeff Beck at DeVos Hall. This one tops them all.

And I finally got to meet my friend Carolyn Leonhart-Escoffery. The daughter of legendary jazz bassist Jay Leonhart, and sister to the Dan's trumpet player Michael, she and her husband Wayne Escoffery released If Dreams Come True in 2007. I reviewed the disc (positively) for Jazziz. Must have been a very good one indeed, as three years later, they asked me to write the liner notes to their then-upcoming release, Tides of Yesterday. I of course said yes (I'm nothing if not magnanimous), and began a correspondence with the two of them that culminated in a meeting after the show. Carolyn is as lovely a person as she is brilliant a singer. So now we just have to get Wayne to perform here, or better yet both of them. Whaddya think?

Progressive Rock? It Still Lives

A host of recent releases makes the point that decades after its heyday, prog is very much alive and well, thank you. Discs by two of the genre's progenitors makes the point.

Yes's Fly From Here reunites the core band - Steve Howe, Alan White, and de facto leader Chris Squire - with Drama-era keyboardist Geoffrey Downes (also the main man for the post-Drama all-star group Asia with Howe, John Wetton and Carl Palmer). Also on board is vocalist Benoit David. Originally assumed to be a short-term sub for a then-ailing Jon Anderson, David is now the band's official lead vocalist.

That's a change many fans have had a difficult time grappling with. As when Trevor Horn replaced Anderson for the Drama album and tour, a large percentage of Yesaholics won't stand for anyone standing in. That's too bad, as both Horne and David have their strengths.

David's are evident on Fly From Here. He sounds comfortable with the material, and less like Anderson than onstage. That's good and bad. There's less strain and less direct comparison. But there's also less Yesness. In fact, you could easily make an argument that this is among the least Yes-ish albums ever. Drama, 90125, Union - all sounded like a different Yes, and Fly From Here continues in that vein.

But is it any good? Well, yes (lowercase y). The title suite is all grandiose and properly dramatic, with sweeping keyboards, heavy bass from Squire, and the requisite three-part harmonies. The lyrics are less cosmic than Anderson's, and many are comparing the disc favorably with Drama. If you can get past David's vocals, Fly From Here casts Yes as the reigning prog heavyweight once again.

Another of the original era's heavyweights was King Crimson. And if Yes switched personnel regularly, the comings and goings from Crimson were a dizzying procession of bassists, vocalists, keyboard players, and percussionists. Somehow the band survived, emerging after long hiatuses with new players and new sounds. That's the case with A Scarcity of Miracles by Jakszyk, Fripp and Collins. Though it's dubbed a King Crimson ProjeKct - a fraKctalization, as Fripp likes to put it - this is Crimson in everything but name. Fripp, bassist Tony Levin, and percussionist Gavin Harrison of Porcupine Tree are all current Crims.  Saxophonist Mel Collins was a member of the band in the early 70s, and Jakko Jakszyk (guitar & vocals) is the son-in-law of original Crimson drummer Mike Giles. Moreover, both Jakszyk and Collins were charter members of the 21st Century Schizoid Band, the Crimson alumni group that performed music the current aggregation had abandoned.

The music here is more melodic and less aggressive than that of the last couple decades of Crimson. It harkens back to Lark's Tongue- and Starless and Bible Black-era KC, with a healthy helping of Frippertronics. Jakszyk's vocals are easier on the ear than those of current Crim vocalist Adrian Belew, and the music is moody, melodic and mysterious. Bravo!

Also noted: Ben Craven's Great & Terrible Potions, slightly metallic prog with lots of guitar and a grooving Roger Dean cover; Pendragon's Passion, still resisting my attempts to like it; and Wobbler's Rites at Dawn, all dreamy soundscapes and woodwinds before the retro keys and guitars chime in. More fun to come!

Elvis Costello, showman and rocker

 The crowd at Interlochen Tuesday night had a wonderful time being entertained by Napoleon Dynamite.

Unfortunately, Elvis Costello was unable to make the second part of the show, but Dynamite, the emcee for the evening, kept things sailing along, singing many Costello hits with backing from the Imposters. Dynamite’s witty stage banter, the forays into the crowd, his dancing girls, and the Spectacular Spinning Songbook more than made up for Costello’s absence.

Okay, Costello wasn’t absent – he was, in fact, the aforementioned Dynamite. But anyone expecting the angry young man from This Year’s Model or Armed Forces was in for a shock. This was the Costello who once subbed for an ailing David Letterman on The Late Show – funny, amenable, but just as ready to rock.

Of course, with the spectacle that is the stage set, anyone who wasn’t aware had to be wondering. The 20-foot-high Spectacular Spinning Songbook, looking for all the world like the wheel from Wheel of Fortune all dressed up for the carnival, dominated the right half of the stage. Then there was the go-go dancer cage stage left, complete with go-go dancer. Steve Nieve’s keyboards were obscured by the glitzy piano bar, complete with red and blue drinks, and a TV set apparently tuned permanently to The Outer Limits.

The audience contestants, guided expertly on- and off-stage by a woman who doubled as extra dancer and bouncer, spun the wheel, prompting Dynamite, er, Costello and the band to wail away. Songs including “Heart of the City,” “Alison,” “Watching the Detectives,” “I Don’t Want to Go to Chelsea,” a medley including “This Year’s Girl” and the Beatles’ “Girl” (on which it must be admitted Costello sang dreadfully out of tune), “The Other Side of Summer,” and others zipped by too fast.

In fact, the pace was so quick, Costello’s road crew had difficulty keeping up with him. He switched guitars for nearly every song, singing as the roadies would run onstage, guitar in hand, plug it in and hand it to him.

The band was in lockstep throughout. Longtime drummer Pete Thomas remains a basher of the first degree, while Davey Faragher on bass and vocals kept things moving. Nieve was all over his keyboards, including not only the Farfisa organ sound from the band’s first albums (which cut through everything), but also melodica, accordion, even the spooky sound of the theremin.

For his encore, Costello soloed on “A Slow Drag with Josephine” from last year’s National Ransom, before he brought up sisters Megan and Rebecca Lovell of opening act Larkin Poe on lap steel and mandolin, respectively. Both also added backing vocals to tunes from his rootsy Secret, Profane & Sugarcane recording, and stuck around for a rollicking “What’s So Funny ’Bout Peace, Love and Understanding” that finally closed the show.

The dancers onstage and off, and the rest of the crowd as well, had a marvelous time. And when you combine spectacle, charisma, great songs and righteous rock and roll, that only makes sense.  

Why the love?

With the Cars on tour again behind their new album, Bob Seger touring, and Bob Dylan celebrating 70, this seems like a propitious time to admit the following: I don't get any of these folks. It's not that I dismiss them - after all, they all had a lot of hits. It's not like I hate them. I just don't understand how or why they are so popular.

Look, I'm not a Van Halen fan, but I admit I paid attention to them. They were loud, crass, occasionally fun, and good copy, especially with Diamond Dave. They rocked, they had some great riffs ("Jump" jumps readily to mind), Eddie could really play till he became a caricature of himself. Ditto Duran Duran. Rio was the best album Spandau Ballet never made, replete with hooks, sleekness, and pretty boys and girls for the MTV era. Def Leppard was a joke, but "Photograph" still gets it.

But these three artists I just could never embrace, or understand the appeal of. Start with the Cars. They had hits with hooks, but did anybody really miss them while they were gone? Live they sound just like the album. Ric Ocasek could be replaced by a cardboard cutout and no one would know.*

     *I saw the Turtles on one of the very first oldies package tours back in
     the summer of '84, and they had lifesize cardboard cutouts of
     themselves onstage alongside the real thing. It was hysterical, and
     they were great. And big Tigers fans, as Mark Volman noted, saying
     "We put a bunch of money down on the Tigers in Vegas at the
     beginning of the year, and Sparky's making us look pretty good."

With the loss of bassist Ben Orr, their one claim to charisma, the Cars are sputtering, at least according to the majority of reviews. They didn't even replace him, but have Greg Hawkes playing synth bass. A smarter way to go would have been to have someone else step in on bass, maybe Kasim Sulton from the Todd Rundgren-led New Cars. But he oozes charisma, and would certainly have overshadowed Ocasek, so that was a no-go.

Then there's Dylan. The songwriter. Granddaddy of protest songs. The man who plugged in folk.

Who cares. The guy can't sing. Never could. That whiny nasal twang was always enough to send anyone with an ear for tunefulness running for the volume control, if not the power switch. I've always been totally baffled by his deification. Of all the acts bridging folk and rock, he was the least melodic, the least musical, the least. Period. Give me the Everly Brothers or Simon and Garfunkel or Pete Seeger or anybody at all. "Like a Rolling Stone," "The Times, They Are A-Changin'," "Tangled Up in Blue" - I've heard better wheezing.

The All Music Guide says "His best albums became undisputed classics of the rock and roll canon." Not at my house they didn't. I'm proud to say I've never had a Dylan album and I never will.

Then there's Bob Seger, the ramblin' gamblin' man. Hey, I actually liked that song. But that was it. His Americana rock and roll left me cold. If that's your style, then how about a shout-out to Springsteen, or Mellencamp, or Southside. If you want to go to the roots of Detroit rock, then Mitch Ryder. Or if you just want rootsy, the Blasters. Yeah, the Blasters. Now there's a band that rocks, with visual imagery second to none ("Long White Cadillac" or "Trouble Bound" for example), and in Steve Berlin and Lee Allen, two saxists who could both cut Alto Reed.

While I'm at it, take the Grateful Dead. Please. Their legendary open-ended jams were fine for the drug-addled, but those interested in melody, or instrumental proficiency, or tuneful, soulful singing were simply out of luck. Dave Marsh once famously called them the worst band in the world, and he was right.

Freddie Hubbard lives

One of the greatest trumpeters of all time left us two and a half years ago, but two new/old CDs bring back the spirit, joy and bravura playing of Freddie Hubbard. First Light is part of the wonderful CTI reissue series, along with discs by George Benson, Don Sebesky, Deodato, and others. CTI was at the vanguard of the whole crossover jazz thing, decried by purists while making near-household names of Benson, Chuck Mangione, the Crusaders, Bob James, and others. The orchestral backing on "Lonely Town," including the harp, sounds today like the perfect accompaniment. His playing is great, especially on the title track. As a bonus, the new reissue includes a live version of "First Light."

Pinnacle is a live date that includes "Happiness is Now," the lead track from his 1979 album Skagly. It's a perfect vehicle for his relaxed blowing. Another track from that overlooked album is his version of "The Summer Knows (theme from Summer of '42)," featuring his work on flugelhorn. Perhaps the highlight is "Giant Steps," which closes the disc.