Concert Recap: Lucky Diaz and the Family Jam Band (Phoenix, August 2012)

On an August weekend in Phoenix, there's generally only one requirement for any activity:

Air conditioning.

But it also helps if you can play and listen to music.

Los Angeles' Lucky Diaz and the Family Jam Band made the trek out from the coast to play a couple sets at the Children's Museum of Phoenix on August 20, and since I help book the series, I was definitely eager to see 'em play.

One thing CMOP has started to do is put a few of the shows in their large atrium.  What it does is let a lot more people see a show at any particular point in time (that picture there doesn't quite capture the dozens more outside of the frame), or just let the people playing in the 3-story-tall Schuff-Perini Climber (which you can see just a very small portion of at the top left) hear music while they scamper around.  It would be a bad setting for a solo artist playing an acoustic set, but for the more active rock and pop shows, the kinetic and vocal energy helps encourage the kids who are there in front to move around and dance.  I think if artists are willing to accept the less-than-distraction-free environment it can be a fun show.

I'm a big fan of Lucky, of course, and he and wife/co-band member Alisha Gaddis made a fair amount of noise considering it was just a duo.  I was particularly impressed by the kick-suitcase Diaz had fashioned to give his songs a little bit of extra "oomph."

Anyways, here's a clip of the band playing "Lemonade Stand" off their latest album A Potluck.

Lucky Diaz and the Family Jam Band - "Lemonade Stand" (Live at the Children's Museum of Phoenix) [YouTube]

Review: Cirque du Soleil KOOZA (June 2012, Phoenix)

It has been awhile since I saw my first (and, 'til now, my only) Cirque du Soleil show -- Mystere, the first Cirque show, if I recall correctly, to set down roots in Las Vegas.  I don't remember much about the show (of course, the web is now a big help in that regard), but I do remember being vaguely stunned as I left the theatre.   The $60 or so per ticket we paid more than a decade ago, which seemed expensive -- hey, it is expensive -- felt like a bargain after watching the show.  Some of the acrobatics of the Montreal-based troupe made the crowd gasp in ways you just don't often hear outside a sporting event.

Fast forward more than a decade, and the Canadian-based Cirque has 21 shows currently (or shortly) in performance all around the world.  This month, their show KOOZA set up their tent in the parking lot of the University of Phoenix Stadium in Glendale (suburban Phoenix), and my wife and I went to the show's first Phoenix-area performance.

I have no doubt that there are Cirque du Soleil fanatics who have definitive preferences for particular shows, and who rate the stories in each show as part of their overall enjoyment.

I am not that person.  Although I am generally a person who buys into highfalutin descriptions of cultural themes, the themes for Cirque shows seem a little... too much.  I mean, I buy "an adrenaline rush of acrobatics in a zany kingdom" as a tagline.  But stating that "[b]etween strength and fragility, laughter and smiles, turmoil and harmony, KOOZA explores themes of fear, identity, recognition and power" oversells the narrative a bit.  Sure, I think I could identify the sketch that touched on each of those issues.  But that's not why I (or, I suspect, most of the attendees at any given performance) attend.

It's to see the "Wheel of Death" and other feats of acrobatics which will literally take your breath away, if only temporarily.  If you want to see what the "Wheel of Death" is, you can Google for YouTube links which, theoretically, are prohibited by the terms of agreement of seeing a Cirque show.  But I wouldn't do that, not for any legal reason, but because a good part of the joy and excitement of seeing these shows is the not knowing what might happen next.  I wouldn't say it's like people who go to a NASCAR race in the ever-so-slight hope of seeing a big car crash, though watching one of the teeterboard artists fail to nail her landing was an unintentional reminder that these are people doing physical things that might not succeed.

Most of the acrobatics are stunning -- besides the "Wheel of Death," which, trust me, will cause you to gasp several times, audibly, the High Wire, Balancing on Chairs, and the totally-underselling-its-appeal-named Hoops Manipulation acts were my favorites.  To some extent, the show takes classic circus acrobatics and amps up the entertainment value by adding crazy costumes and hair extensions and innovative stage design.  I'm not saying this as a criticism -- I'm saying this to illustrate the fact that Cirque du Soleil has figured out how to improve these forms in each and every way -- both talent-wise and presentation-wise.  It's the difference, frankly, between a $25 ticket and an $80 ticket.

The clowning interludes, while occasionally pretty funny, are less essential to enjoying the show.  There's a pickpocket, an annoying tourist, a king, and a bad dog.  They are funny, occasionally employing a little PG-13 humor, and most of the time, I just wanted them to get off the stage so we could enjoy another acrobatic entertainment.

As for the story, the show "tells the story of The Innocent, a melancholy loner in search of his place in the world."  I am here to tell you that the story is irrelevant to your enjoyment of the show.  I think the Innocent found his place in the world - I just can't tell you where that place is.  And throughout the whole piece there's a six-piece band (and vocalists) playing along.  The music and lyrics are very non-specific in their sound -- it's vaguely Indian "World Music," which no doubt makes it easier to translate the show from country to country.

Should you bring your kids to KOOZA?  Well, we didn't have our kids with us, but there were more than a few slightly older kids there.  While it is no means a slow-moving show, it doesn't move fast enough to consider bringing your preschooler or more antsy young elementary school student.  Kids ages 7 and up will probably ooh and aah over the gymastic/acrobatic portions.  Their mileage for the clowning portions will vary.

As for you, kindly adult reader, KOOZA may be over the top at times, but to a large degree, that's just the point. As long as you're willing to be awed by some incredibly skilled performers, you will, in fact, be awed.  

KOOZA plays in Phoenix through July 15, and continues its tour in Houston, Dallas, and Tampa before heading to the United Kingdom in 2013.  Tickets and more information are available here. Note: My wife and I received complimentary tickets for a performance.  No review was required or expected in return for our attendance.

Christmas CD Reviews (2011 Edition, Part 2)

Every year I'm interested in hearing some new Christmas and holiday music. When I asked folks for some of their (non-kids-music) favorites on my Facebook page, I got a ton of different responses (and even more on my personal FB page). And while I listened to a few of them on Spotify (liked the Shawn Colvin, the Roches and Low didn't do much for me, didn't get a chance to listen to much of Stevie Wonder), adding comments on those in addition to the nine disks below was just going to be too much. Some of the albums below are new, some old, and I'm pretty sure you're gonna find at least one you like.

I'd also note that my distinction between Christmas/holiday albums from kids' musicians and those from non-kids' musicians (below) is artificial at best, seeing as three of the artists below have released full-on albums for kids (and a fourth isn't yet a teenager herself). I think mostly I couldn't bear the thought of reviewing 15 or so albums in a single review.

We'll start off with the newest album, released just a couple weeks ago. It's called Of a Rose, and it's a collection of holiday recordings from the Grammy-winning Phoenix Chorale. (Full disclosure time: not only did they give me a copy for possible review, I'm friends with a number of the Chorale's members, including Executive Director and Assistant Conductor Joel Rinsema, who I interviewed a few years back.) I am not a choral expert -- heck, I'm not even a choral novice -- but the collection of live recordings of seasonally appropriate music led by artistic director and conductor Charles Bruffy is well done and very much satisfies my need at this time of year for music that puts in me in a contemplative mood under dark and/or cloudy skies. There are a handful of familiar songs -- "Lo, How a Rose" and "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen" -- but the Chorale has in recent years programmed adventurously and the selection reflects that. But don't be afraid of that if you're chorally deficient -- this is good stuff. You can order the disk here (and if you're reading this this weekend, yes, they'll get it to you in time for Christmas).

While we're on the subject, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the Chorale's other holiday disk, A Southwest Christmas, released back in 1997 under their previous conductor and when they were still known as the Phoenix Bach Choir. We've had the album for a couple years, and what I appreciate about this album is how it indeed has a "Southwest" feel. I can't say the Native American Flute-accompanied "Noel Sing We!" is a favorite of mine, but it's appropriate. (I much prefer the set of traditional Christmas songs in English and Spanish called "Milagros de Navidad.") It makes for a nice contrast with Of a Rose -- more traditional songs, but with arrangements you might not hear as often this time of year.
As much as I've enjoyed the Chorale disks this month, if there was one Christmas album I've been particularly obsessed with this year, it would be the 2011 album Seven Songs of Comfort and Joy by the Twin Cities supergroup The New Standards. One piano, one bass, and one vibraphone -- that's all the trio needs to create instantly memorable instrumental jazz renditions of seven Christmas songs secular and religious. The arrangements aren't so unfamiliar that your relatives will wonder what it is you're listening to, but create their own space that holds up to repeated listening. (I should know, having engaged in high levels of "repeated listening" with this album already.) Seriously, just take 5 minutes and listen to "Silent Night." You'll be charmed, I promise.

Staying in the Upper Midwest a little while longer, the New Standards' fellow Haley Bonar released her Only Xmas EP in 2008, long before she released her fabulous kindie EP Sing With Me. Not as much comfort and joy as the New Standards, though Bonar's voice is a comfort, even in singing unhappy lyrics. (OK, maybe her rendition of "Rudolph" meets both criteria.) But very wintry; her cover of Joni Mitchell's "River" is simple and beautiful. It's brief, but I like the EP quite a bit.

I'm obviously a big fan of Lori Henriques' album Outside My Door, so I was eager to hear her Christmas EP Playing for Christmas. The album is actually a number of years old, but has been freshly packaged. I particularly liked the re-working of a couple songs in different time signatures than the original ("Bring a Torch Jeannette Isabella in the relatively uncommon 7/8 time, and the waltz of "Away in a Manger" turned into standard 4/4 time). But all six solo piano tracks will work well in a relaxing holiday mix, perhaps paired with a December by George Winston, a holiday classic. You can listen to the album here -- it's available on iTunes and elsewhere. (Or give the leadoff track a spin below.)

All you really need to know about Moat Jumper's holiday album is encapsulated in its title: Christmas at the Renaissance Fair. Now, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure tracks like "Jingle Bells" weren't actually around at, you know, the Renaissance; that's probably just nitpicking on my part, though. Lots of eclectic instruments are used (the first five listed: hurdy gurdy, bladder pipe, pipe & string drum, pipe & tabor, and shawms) to give the familiar tunes a new coating. This wasn't a favorite of mine, but it wasn't because it was bad -- I'm sure there are others who'll appreciate it more.

Like many of the albums here, Celtic Christmas, the latest collection of Putumayo-approved holiday tunes benefits the reviewer listening to a lot of Christmas by having slightly different arrangements of very familiar tunes. If you have a tin whistle sensitivity, you might want to steer clear, but I was surprised at how relatively restrained the arrangements were -- this wasn't a collection that totally screamed "Riverdance" to me. (I mean, there's a Celtic rendition of "White Christmas," so you can tell that they're not straining for some level of imagined authenticity.) While I wouldn't call this essential, the 34-minute album is warm enough to satisfy the dark days of the season but fresh enough that it'll play nicely with a wide range of other holiday music in your collection.

Without a doubt, the most lushly produced album here is from 11-year-old wunder-voice Jackie Evancho. With an orchestra that probably numbers in the dozens, I'm sure it cost more to produce than any album here -- maybe more than all of them combined. Evancho has one of those voices that would be pretty impressive generally -- the fact that it's coming from someone who's not yet a teenager is almost disconcerting. As you might expect with a vocal prodigy, there are a few vocal pyrotechnics, such as on "The First Noel," that I could really do without. My favorite track is probably the least traditional one -- "Walking in the Air," from the 1980s animated special The Snowman -- it just doesn't seem quite as show-offy. The best way I can sum it up is to say that my mom would probably really like this. That's not a slam, just a note that I'm probably not the target audience for this release. (Note: the album is a Walmart exclusive, though you can probably track it down on the secondary market.)

Finally, if all these albums play it a little too safe for you, I'll wrap this review up with a less-than-full-relevant (or soothing) take on the holiday season. The Barenaked Ladies' 2004 album Barenaked for the Holidays won't change your opinion of the band. If you love their quirky-yet-hook-filled, alternately sarcastic and heartfelt pop-rock, you will probably like-to-love this. If you find them cloying and silly, this sure as heck won't win you over. (For the record, I'm much more in the former camp than the latter.) It's a mixture of sacred ("O Holy Night") and secular ("Rudolph" on the tinniest keyboard you'll ever hear), earnest ("Snowman") and less-than-reverent (a deconstruction of "Jingle Bells" kicking off the album). I probably wouldn't include all the tracks in a holiday mix, and sometimes the production seems pretty cheap, but there are more good tracks than bad -- I particularly like their duet with Sarah McLachlan on "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen / We Three Kings." (And "Deck the Stills" is brilliantly deranged. I'm totally going caroling with that one.)

Disclosure: I received copies of Of a Rose, Playing for Christmas, Christmas at the Renaissance Fair, Celtic Christmas, and Heavenly Christmas for possible review.