CD Review: Jimmy Adler’s Grease Alley By day, Pittsburgh’s James Addlespurger is a mild-mannered educator at a high school for the creative and performing arts. Armed with chalk and curriculum, he molds impressionable young minds into fine, creative citizens, poised to take on the world. One could argue that his day job is literally doing God’s work. However, when the clock strikes nighttime, Pittsburgh’s mild-mannered James Addespurger trades in his chalk for a telecaster and transforms into East Coast bluesman Jimmy Adler. The work he does in the midnight hour strictly belongs to the deep dark blues. And throughout the 13 original tracks on his latest CD release, Grease Alley, Adler proves he’s schooled in far more than one musical discipline when it comes to high-quality swinging rhythm and blues. The sad truth is that there is a gulf-sized distance between the numerous mediocre bands that fancy themselves blues performers and those chosen few that are true purveyors of this great American musical art-form. Jimmy Adler clearly finds himself in the latter category, with this homage to the idiom serving as documented proof. From the opening track “Say It Like Magic Sam,” Adler and company school the listener in what a shuffle groove is all about. With an oooh-so-sneaky and laid-back rhythm section courtesy of drummer June Core (formerly with Charlie Musselwhite), as well as bassist and producer of Grease Alley Norwegian-born Kid Anderson, Jimmy Adler lays out his mission statement with ample T-Bone Walker-inspired guitar licks, and a vocal styling second only to James Montgomery in cool. From Texas-swing we immediately head East, with a New Orleans romp on the CD’s title track “Grease Alley.” A few moments into the song finds the listener smack dab in the middle of a Mardi Gras parade, marching earnestly to that Bo Diddley rhythm that so defines that Louisiana bayou style. And with some creative lyrics courtesy of Adler, you’re treated not only to the sights and sounds, but also the tastes and smells of that famed alley: “Now there’s a shack just across the track, they fry everything in fat – It starts to ooze all over your shoes, the alley’s where it’s at – fish and chicken and all that pickin’ as spicy as you please — To keep my motor on the go I’m gonna need a little grease.” Other standout tracks include “Drank Too Much” where Jimmy Adler channels the guitar styling of Elmore James (not to mention the songwriting of Amos Milburn) like few I’ve heard before. “Went out to the club, thought I’d have maybe just one sip. Ran into an old friend of mine, I didn’t know when to quit — I drank too much, one’s too many and too many’s not enough.” Although Adler is well-known for his songwriting and guitar prowess, in 2009 he gained a certainly unwanted national spotlight when he was physically attacked by a teenager in broad daylight in downtown Pittsburgh. Because the incident was surreptitiously videotaped and later made its way on to the internet, it became known as one of the first documented cases of the so-called ‘Knockout Game,’ a loathsome practice where unwitting pedestrians are assaulted merely as YouTube fodder. Adler made appearances on “Nightline,” “The Today Show” and CNN to discuss the ordeal. In all candor, including the anecdote here might seem out of place at first blush had he had not made such a highly potent blues album in Grease Alley. It takes a certain type of person to convincingly pull off the genre. One needs a whole lotta grit and integrity to sing in the kind of voice Jimmy Adler does without coming off as a wannabe, or worse, a fraud. But rest assured that when it comes to playing the blues, Adler has long since paid his dues, and is most emphatically the real deal. David Bowie’s Blackstar – A Weird Star is Born I found out about Bowie’s death just a few hours after turning this review. In retrospect, Blackstar is the kind of swan song only an unpredictable innovator like him could’ve produced. When you hear the words “David Bowie,” which version of him pops into your head? Perhaps it’s Ziggy Stardust, the White Duke, or that goblin guy from Labyrinth? Enter one more: The wizened icon willing to try literally anything. Released on Bowie’s 69th birthday [and just days before his untimely passing], his new album Blackstar combines elements of jazz, avant-garde and industrial instrumentation, and plunges him farther into the dark musical rabbit hole than he’s ever been. Two years ago, The Next Day, a serviceable rock record, marked Bowie’s first original material in a decade. But most of Blackstar gives the finger to his well-established musical sensibilities. Helping him to this end is longtime producer Tony Visconti, but he also enlisted New York jazz heavyweights Donny McCaslin (sax, woodwinds), Ben Monder (guitar) and Mark Guiliana (drums). The disregard for conventions that made him notable in the ‘70s has apparently not reached its limit. The bulk of Blackstar’s seven tracks are bizarre and experimental in their own way, so if you’re looking for three-minute tunes for your pre-game playlist, you may want to skip this one. The title track is probably the biggest departure, a behemoth clocking in at 9:55. It begins with a kind of bleak Gregorian monk chant with some abstract religious imagery (“In the villa of Ormen stands a solitary candle/On the day of execution, only women kneel and smile”), and switches completely to ghostly soul with a menacing refrain (“I’m a Blackstar”). My favorite is “Lazurus,” written for a musical of the same name. It builds on an atmospheric groove, with sax lines that fade in and out and guttural, Pixies-like guitar. As usual, Bowie’s lyrics remain cryptic on the album: “This way or no way/I’ll be free-just like that bluebird/Ain’t that just like me?” “Sue (Or In a Season of Crime)” is an eerie eardrum assault, with heavy, distorted riffs, off-kilter vocals, and a sludgy outro that borders on metal. Horns punctuate the album, but this isn’t your father’s “Young American” saxophone – it’s jazzy flourishes and impressive solos. Also notable throughout Blackstar is the subtle yet aggressive drumming by Guiliana. The insanely intricate groove in “Sue” isn’t the type of playing you’ll often hear from rock sessions players. The few tracks on Blackstar that aren’t aggressively anti-pop fail to make a big impression: “I Can’t Give Everything Away” is a tepid synth and “Dollar Days” is a fairly forgettable ballad. Still, give Blackstar a chance. These songs aren’t exactly easy listening stuff you’ll be humming in your car for days on end, but for an artist that has constantly stretched the boundaries of what he’s capable of, it’s not that surprising. If you’re trying to recapture the ‘glory days’ of Bowie, this album is definitely not for you. But in that case of a man constantly changing, was there ever any real Bowie anyway? The White Panda at Lupo’s On Wednesday, December 30, Cali-based mashup duo The White Panda (TWP) graced the stage at Lupo’s for the fifth time, and they did not disappoint. When I caught up with Tom, AKA Procrast, one half of TWP, a few weeks back, he told me to expect a sweaty, confetti and high energy-infused party at the Providence stop of their new tour (in support of their new album, The Pawprint), and that’s just what we got. When I arrived at the venue at 9, I was immediately struck by what I found myself a part of — opening act Witt Lowry (a Connecticut rapper) was still on, but already the party was in full effect. The place was packed with turnt (and, suffice to say, plurnt), college-aged kids doing the damn thing. Admittedly, as a 25-year-old quasi-veteran of this scene, I felt a little out of place. But once I started vibing to the uber-charismatic Lowry (a Connecticut-based rapper) as he absolutely murdered his set, I felt much more comfortable in the crowd. I was impressed by his flow, craycray display of energy, and command of the wild audience. I also felt grateful to be exposed to a new (to me, anyway) artist that I really enjoyed seeing perform (yet might’ve skipped over if he’d popped up on my Pandora previously). In my opinion, this is what seeing live shows is all about. When TWP hit the stage around 10:30, they wasted no time (or LED lights, fog, mixes and dancing, for that matter) popping shit (further) off. The dapper duo (dressed in matching white-on-white shirt-and- tie ensembles, plus their signature LED panda masks) leveraged (and built upon) the killer vibes conjured by openers Witt Lowry and DJ Gnash to create an almost unrestrained atmosphere, complete with solid crowd engagement and, I’ll say it: bangers. The best way that I could describe my relationship with TWP’s set (and for that matter, their entire catalog) is this: To me, they make every track they sample “sing,” even tracks that I don’t enjoy on their own. Examples at Lupo’s included Pompeii’s “Bastille” and Adele’s “Hello.” These guys certainly know how to throw a party! Album Of The Week: Dirty Streets’ White Horse Everyone wants to talk about what’s happening in Nashville.