Erykah Badu and Janelle Monae

Caught them at the Tow­er The­atre Tues­day night. Cap­ti­vat­ing show. Janelle Mon­ae is an incen­di­ary per­former. I feel bad for any artist who has to fol­low her act. She’s James Brown rein­car­nate with a dash of Sun Ra’s out­er space imagery for good mea­sure. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen any­one sing and dance so well in a live set­ting, much less the some­times hol­low Tow­er, which can be a tough room to warm up even for sea­soned performers.

Her ener­gy com­plete­ly over­shad­owed Bilal’s set, who coast­ed a bit on the strength of the home­town crowd. I must admit that his cov­er of Led Zep­pelin’s “Since I’ve Been Lov­ing” you was a bit inspired, although his band did­n’t real­ly have the chops to real­ly dri­ve it home. As Dan DeLu­ca observes, Bilal had what it takes to be a neo-soul star in the mak­ing back in 2001; now, some nine years removed, who does­n’t shud­der when they hear “neo-soul?”

Erykah Badu mes­mer­ized the audi­ence. Her mere pres­ence com­mand­ed the room’s atten­tion and she held it for two hours, pos­sess­ing them with a mix­ture of songcraft and guile. Badu is a for­tu­nate mem­ber of the neo-soul scene, expe­ri­enc­ing some­thing of a renais­sance since she began the New Amerykah series in 2008. She’s incor­po­rat­ed ele­ments that draw on Par­lia­ment and Funkadel­ic, updat­ing her once staid, Star­bucks soul sound. Even the stuff from her 1997 debut, Baduizm, did­n’t sound dat­ed thir­teen years on. She is a singer at the height of her pow­ers and if you miss her, you’re real­ly miss­ing some­thing special.

HALLOGALLO!

Yeah, once upon a time I would’ve derid­ed this gig as a shame­less ploy. For­tu­nate­ly peo­ple can change. Can’t wait to see Krautrock pio­neer Michael Rother per­form the music of Neu! at Inter­na­tion­al House in August. Should be a pret­ty amaz­ing experience.

I Shopped at FYE

I know it’s unthink­able, but last Sat­ur­day when I was at the Cher­ry Hill Mall get­ting my dear Mac­book repaired for the umpteenth time, I found myself alone with my son, need­ing to occu­py some time while Helen replen­ished her sum­mer wardrobe. There aren’t many inter­est­ing options when you’re at the mall, so I took a walk down mem­o­ry lane and stepped inside the sort of store that intro­duced me to music in the first place: an FYE. Con­tin­ue read­ing

Male Bonding — Daytrotter Session

There are plen­ty of albums Pitch­fork likes that I nev­er both­er check­ing out. It’s a long­stand­ing prac­tice that goes back to my days at Sty­lus. Not nec­es­sar­i­ly con­trar­i­an for the sake of being dif­fer­ent, but real­iz­ing that there’s so much more ground to cov­er that it’s not real­ly worth adding my two cents to most Pitch­fork-approved releas­es. Let the rest of the blo­gos­phere chime in.

I’m eat­ing crow this morn­ing thanks to my friend Marc Mas­ters. He’s men­tioned them a few times in his Twit­ter feed (fol­low him here) and I’m final­ly get­ting around to check their Daytrot­ter ses­sion out. I’m also lov­ing eMu­sic’s Best Albums of the Year…So Far list, which takes me once again through the musi­cal under­brush to dis­cov­er stuff I haven’t even heard about until now. Which is all to say that I do some­times miss the man­ner in which I was exposed to a fright­ful and delight­ful amount of music when I was a strug­gling free­lance guy that I just don’t hear now that I’m pay­ing more atten­tion to the tabloid news media.

As an aside, I have to admit that since Lala.com shut down May 31st, I’m com­ing around to the var­i­ous legit­i­mate ways to hear new music. Every­one’s record­ing peo­ple now, whether it’s places like Daytrot­ter or it’s an NPR stream and I’m okay with that. Instead of feel­ing as I once did that putting a full album stream at MySpace was an invi­ta­tion to pira­cy, I’m hope­ful that more peo­ple are okay with the idea of just lis­ten­ing and enjoy­ing what’s out there and sup­port­ing the artists they tru­ly enjoy.

Crazy Heart

What an affect­ing film. Worth watch­ing twice, trust me. It has an inter­est­ing back­sto­ry, too. Orig­i­nal­ly intend­ed for a direct-to-video release, before Fox Search­light gave it a shot at the­atri­cal release. Hard to believe a movie with Jeff Bridges, Mag­gie Gyl­len­haal, Col­in Far­rell, and Robert Duvall would go direct-to-video. It’s the stuff the movie busi­ness eats up! It’s a music biopic! Remem­ber Walk the Line and Ray?

Bet­ter than either of those movies, Crazy Heart does­n’t bite off more than it can chew. We don’t get Bad Blake’s life sto­ry; rather, we see him in his twi­light years, fall down drunk and at the end of his rope. His songs are proof that he once had a career worth talk­ing about. He’s Hag­gard and Jen­nings and Kristof­fer­son and it’s amaz­ing to watch unrav­el. Shame that Bridges won the Oscar for a com­pos­ite char­ac­ter, but he chan­nels the Out­law ethos so perfectly.

The music’s not half bad either, and I have his­tor­i­cal­ly hat­ed any­thing T‑Bone Bur­nett touches.