Showing posts with label kansas city. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kansas city. Show all posts

Thursday, August 21, 2014

The Anti-Selfie Collection Vol. 1


Nothing wrong with a few self-portraits. A culture obsessed with self-portraits however may push a once honest and engaging aesthetic into wince-inducing vulgarity & irritating narcissism.
Enter the Anti-Selfie. A tiny artistic protest against the overuse of the self-portrait or something even greater perhaps? An inadvertent homage to Magritte's surrealistic and prophetic genius? An aesthetic revolution of palimpsest-like proportions?
All of the above?
And although it's too soon to tell about its social and artistic ramifications-the *anti-selfie* surely deserves its place among the current social media oeuvre or at the very least, a gentle reminder of our growing self-obsession & lack of overall awareness concerning it.


-William Chaffin





J. Wold





C. Cogdill

K. Ford

J. Chaffin

W. Chaffin

S. Akright

M. Chaffin

M. Stuber

The Ghost & The Starkness: Chad Cogdill's Haunting Photographs of Kansas City



by Chad Cogdill



Chad Cogdill is a ghost and he photographs Kansas City within the metaphoric Gaussian blur of this amorphous tempo. He stalks it's hulking, concrete creatures with the same intensity that a Zen master stalks peacefulness. His best images speak a multi-layered perversity with our urban surroundings and purvey the dichotomy of the city as a constant & immovable force and the city as a slowly decaying corpse. This Titan-like struggle happening entirely within the small confines of a digital light box.

Old world meets computer chips. That Cogdill's world. A world which dissipates into line, color (or most likely lack of it) contrast and geometric shapes. The ghost & the starkness. An artist looking for something in the silence and distance...

by Chad Cogdill

Cogdill's lens captures the living of the non-living through the entropy evident in it's scars & it's persistent grayscale. His work culminating in a reimagining of a once-great city through a visual re-mapping of it's quiet downtown.

He wanders...shoots and wanders some more. His camera always the focus and contemplation and the city his muse.





Kansas City as muse.
Kansas City as phoenix-rising.
Kansas City in all it's beauty and it's unusual silence.

Chad Cogdill is it's ghost with a camera and his poetry is exposed one frame at a time.

-William Chaffin




Chad Cogdill's next photography exhibition is at the Plenum Space Gallery (504 E. 18th St, Kansas City) onSeptember 5, 2014

View Chad's work online here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/chad_cogdill/

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Lazy Genius: Soft Sheets 7" Review







The genius of Lazy is that it's a machine that warbles but never stops moving. It's purest moments exist inside of a new-wave-feminine feeling & final droplets of punk rock polygamy. It's Caligula meets Alex Cox and on a mild dose of prescription cough syrup. If you can dig that. (We do.)


Their newest 7" is the perfect art installation as a limited run in a rough part of town. It's lean & mean and coughs chunks in all the right places. A hipster morning hack for the art-school burnouts and post 90's sleazeballs (and their petulant offspring) Y'know man...like Pollock only more desperate *cough*
Lazy & it's sister band Dated are certainly the coolest kids in Kansas City. The music is filled with fantastic ~fuck you~ spirit and a surplus of cool. How cool is Lazy?
Fucking cool.
I once joked (possibly on Instagram?) that even their cigarettes smoked cigarettes. Maybe that wasn't the joke exactly but the sentiment remains. Lazy are oozing the kind of post-apocalyptic hipness that make punk rock legends at a time where even the mention of the phrase punk rock espouses suspicion and here's the clincher-the music is great. It's rough in all the right places and smells like the inside of a 1989 Mustang with a week-old, coconut air freshener tied around the rear view. It's just good, goddamn rock & roll. It's the exact right amount of Verlaine's Television & Hanna's Bikini Kill with just a dash of Television Personalities "And don't the kids just love it" and Wire's "Pink Flag" thrown in for good measure.
They're the best in Kansas City and ready for greater things.
Blue jean commercials or New York City-or both.


-William Chaffin

Get the Soft Sheets 7" here:

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Evolution/Revolution: A Review of Jorge Arana Trio's "Oso"




A minute-and-a-half into Oso you realize the Jorge Arana Trio is hungry again. Hungry with the same primeval fire and shredded, sweaty guts that made Mapache a jazz fused triumph. 

Oso tears at the listener like a dying warrior-animal fighting for every inch of it's precious and dignified life. It's homage to the frantic fever of John Zorn's lunatic pacing evident in the break-neck gallop of tempo and tone.

Oso is the best thing this band has done so far & Mapache (their debut) was damn near perfect. Arana's newest is more emotional & personal. The echoes of surf-rock sprinkled amongst fuzzed out freak beats and spaghetti western nightmare fizzles give the listener small glimpses into the band's psyche.

Jorge Arana and his trio have managed to grow technically as musicians and arrangers and it shows. Every inch of canvas is carefully plotted and planned to manufacture an EP of transcendent chaos. The band seems hellbent on not only preserving the art form of jazz but elevating it as well.

Oso is simply perfect. It feels like a prize fighter who rallies in the twelfth round. It swings wild but with a skill and determination unmatched by most men. It's this dignity that make Arana and his group distinct from most. They are not a band. They are a trio. A small group of professionals slugging it out in the ring. Every note is the jab as homage and every 90 degree, tempo turn an upper cut for evolution.

The evolution of the acid-jazz, freak scene for the jaded, hipster Internet crowd.
Evolution as revolution.
Press play and get ready.

Get "Oso" here:


Thursday, August 7, 2014

Steg Party: A Review of the Debut EP From Kansas City's Stegosaurus Wrecks

Perhaps the brutal magic of Stegosaurus Wrecks is the ache & longing in Alex Courtney's whisper singing that evaporates into an end-growl. In the moments where it collapses vocally in on itself ("Nowhere Now") exhausted and yearning speaking a multitude of meanings in tiny gaps of silence. 


This is Courtney's Man Bear (his previous outfit) all grown up. But not just all grown up...all grown up & got them six-year payment blues. Dig?
There's a confidence that arises from catastrophe that Courtney has learned to manipulate. The glorious example of this being "Maple Come Home" -an example of his real gift for songwriting sorrow...a mature & quiet longing that yearns for more years and nods to those that are forever gone.

Lennon Bone turns in a solid performance as a guest drummer & Aaron Nickless is consistently good. In fact, Nickless may be one of KC's most underrated bass players. He's got a talent for sturdiness on tape and punk rock brashness on stage that is unmatched in that town. He knows *when to be *what and that's goddamn important in a bass player.

In fact-this is the soul of Steg's essence: When to be what.
It's accomplishment residing in the feeling that as long as there's life to live there are songs to be sung AND dive-bars that those songs need to be sung in. Courtney is the reluctant singer and Nickless is his trusted ambassador.

Steg Wrecks is Man Bear 2.0 but more. It's a testament to Alex Courtney's poetic, pop pleasures and Nickless' wink and a smile 1970's bass benevolence. The soul of an artist and the rugged charm of his right hand man.
A good team.
A great friendship.
A damn fine EP.

Get Stegosaurus Wrecks' EP here: