I attended a cutting-edge jazz festival in Kansas City on Wednesday, January 4. What’s that? You didn’t know about the event? Well, since Kansas City hasn’t hosted a proper jazz festival in five years, I’ve taken to curating one-night festivals for myself.
On Wednesday I spent five hours at three venues taking in an immensely rewarding blend of touring and locally based artists. The faux festival got off to a rough start at Westport Coffee House ($10 cover). When guitarist Seth Andrew Davis thanked members of the audience for attending, the Bay Area keyboardist Scott R. Looney sneered “three people!”
The other musicians seemed to brush off Looney’s disappointment in the turnout. Looney, Davis and the New York based percussionist Kevin Cheli began by playing what sounded like devilish variations on the cartoon music of Raymond Scott.
Looney, bassist Krista Kopper and drummer Evan Verploegh toyed with extreme dynamics in the second set. In staving off mere anarchy by holding the center, Kopper was the most valuable contributor to a third set featuring all five musicians. The first stage of the festival concluded with an improvisation on what may have been an inverse version of Miles Davis’ “All Blues.”
The second phase of the bespoke festival transpired at Green Lady Lounge ($5 cover). I joined about 75 revelers for a set by OJT, the popular venue’s de facto house band. Seated directly behind drummer Sam Platt, my appreciation of the ways in which guitarist Brian Baggett and organist Ken Lovern apply their roots in rock to update the organ jazz trio tradition was strengthened.
Funkadelick headlined the fake fest at the Brick ($10 cover). Drummer Nikki Glaspie had the night off, so the peripatetic Mike Dillon and Brian Haas, the keyboardist best known for his groundbreaking work with Jacob Fred Jazz Odyssey, operated as a duo for most of their nearly two-hour set.
Dillon manned his expansive rig like punk-jazz’s answer to Carl Palmer as he and Haas interpreted the entirety of the forthcoming album Inflorescence. The tandem was later joined in musical roughhousing by guest drummer Arnold Young. A violent interpolation of the Stooges’ proto-punk classic “I Wanna Be Your Dog” typified the raucous attack.
Drawn to the pocket-size stage like a moth to a flame, I posted up front and center for most of the riveting performance. The approximately 50 people seated behind me couldn’t have been pleased that I obstructed their sightlines. I didn’t care. After all, it was my festival.
