Before getting into today's festival, let's hear it for the Dallas Cubans. 3-0 on the hated Lakers. Here's hoping for the sweep. But can we get rid of the coordinated t-shirts? The whole arena wearing t-shirts of the team's predominant color is completely played out. The Wave thinks the coordinated t-shirts are tired.
Back to the Festival. Today was a little warmer and the skies were completely cloudless. It was a much warmer day overall, with little breeze. Still, it was much more pleasant than most Jazz Festival days.
Upon entering the gates, I immediately encountered Excessively Stoked Festival Guy. Actually, this was a woman. This is the guy who thinks everything and everyone at the festival is incredible, notwithstanding the chaos and disaster all around him. Excessively Stoked Festival Guy was appreciative of the extra lighting while Woodstock 1999 was burning to the ground. He has a real glow about him, says hello to everyone, tries for extended conversations with all, knows every band, and has been to every Festival. ESFG needs to keep his fairy dust to himself. This isn't Utopia, and its not summer camp. Its a bunch of people in a dusty field getting skin cancer, clogging their arteries with Louisiana food, and ruining their hearing. Not some greater awakening. Stay away.
On that happy note, I arrived slightly less early, but still hung out in the Gospel Tent waiting for the shows to start. For the morning prayer, the announcer prayed for Brother Sherman Washington and all others who had passed during the last year. The prayer included the line "we don't miss them because we know where they are." I thought of those people I've lost, and felt some comfort.
First up was the Wimberly Family Gospel Singers. The emcee announced that "we are a family tent." Out came five guys in baby blue suits. An older gentleman with a really powerful voice led the group. The group played down home, get down gospel music. The tent was up and dancing within about 10 minutes. On the front row, a group of what looked like senior accountants from Shreveport waiting for tomorrow's Jimmy Buffet concert started dancing with what looked like a 120 year old black woman who had no teeth. Because no other acts on the scheduled interested me, I stuck around a little longer than usual (a band called "We Landed on the Moon!" opened the main Acura stage). They detoured to play "A Change is Gonna Come," the old Sam Cooke anthem. The group's white guitarist took a solo, which was very soulful and moving. Behind me, a very old black gentleman wearing an immaculate black suit and a Saints ball cap tapped me on the shoulder and excitedly said "that white boy sure can play, can't he?" I smiled and agreed.
From there I visited the Economy Hall Tent for the first time this Festival, and briefly enjoyed some early 1900s "jass" style music. Basically, this means clarinets. Joseph Torregano, a local musician with several guests, was playing. The much older crowd was really enjoying it. Obviously it reminded them of their favorite songs playing on the radio about 60 years ago, which even then were "oldies." Those folks got a pretty long second line procession going, winding through the aisles.
After that I had some crawfish pie, then tried to work it off by walking a bit. Though Jazz Festival features some really incredible food, about 90% of it is high fat, high carbohydrate and could kill you. They could just as well serve obesity on a plate. It may be high fat and high carbohydrate, but its also high fun!
I went to Ingrid Lucia in the Grandstands, playing the Lagniappe Stage. I "discovered" her last year when I bailed out of one show (I forget which) and hung out in the Grandstand, where she was playing the end of her show. It was really interesting so I made a point to catch her again this year. I'd describe her as a "jazz chanteuse." Despite her name (and the fact that she's not from Louisiana), she looks like she's straight out of Evangeline Parish. She sings a really eclectic, wide mix of jazz, blues, even country, but with a bit of a european sensibility. Her amazing voice echoes Patsy Cline, if Patsy had spent about three weeks listening to Billie Holiday non-stop. It has that kind of dusky, lilting quality. The music was really effective for the Lagniappe Stage's small setting; I can't imagine her going over well at the Acura Stage, for example.
From there it was on to check out the Soul Rebels Brass Band at the Acura Stage. I'd seen umpteen people wearing their t-shirts this visit, and decided I had to see what the fuss was over. Good thing I did. This is a true brass band, three percussionists, two saxes, two trumpets, a trombone, and a tuba. No guitars, pianos, or the like. It evoked the latter period Dirty Dozen Brass Band, though the members are much younger and their style is more rock and rap. The really young crowd was dancing feverishly, despite the fact that the brilliant sun was beating down intensely. They converted me. The Soul Rebels are officially a "find."
I then went to the Jazz Tent for "Fleur Debris," a play on words of "Fleur-de-lis," the New Orleans emblem. Led by longtime New Orleans pianist David Tolkanowsky, it featured an all-star lineup including two former members of the Meters. They expertly played highly crafted contemporary jazz. Each note seemed to fall precisely in place, with complicated rhythms and melodies weaving intertwined throughout each song. These obviously are superior musicians. I kept falling asleep. I'm not sure whether it was the music, or finally getting some shade after being out in the sun. It may have been the "Toto Effect." This is how I describe these "super groups," of which Toto was one. Toto featured members who had been the cream of the LA studio musician crop. You'd have thought that with all these prominent session musicians, Toto would have been the greatest thing since the Beatles. Some people thought they were, but in reality they were just relentlessly mediocre. Very well played, well produced mediocrity. The best groups include guys who just got together in a garage somewhere and played because they had to. Especially at a big Festival, you want a Camaro, not the Mach 5. This music plays better on record (CD I guess) in your home, where you can devote it all your attention. "Louie Louie" is more suitable for a festival like this.
I started hitting just portions of several shows. Next I returned to the Lagniappe Stage for Yvette Landry, member of Bonsoir Catin, which I assume is cajun for "chicks play old school cajun." They're another Jazz Fest find of mine from Lafayette. I remember from past shows that Yvette is the bassist for that all-woman cajun band, and the former queen of the Breaux Bridge Crawfish Festival. Now fronting a band, she plays more old school country and blues, with only a hint of cajun influence. Hopefully this doesn't mean Bonsoir Catin is through.
After this show, headed to the Gentilly Stage for Buckwheat Zyedeco. I'd seen him many times before, and this show was pretty much just like all the rest. Very energetic, high tempo zydeco music.
Because I'd seen him before, I bailed and checked out the remainder of Kermit Ruffins' set at Congo Square. Ruffins, a trumpeter who was a founding member of the Rebirth Brass Band, had a five-six piece group that played covers of old soul songs exclusively. Otis Redding, Sly and the Family Stone.... I enjoyed it somewhat but it lacked much spark. The crowd didn't seem all that into it, and the group's energy level seemed low.
Next up was Better Than Ezra. I'd seen them many times and was going to blow them off, but decided to make it anyway to hear some rock and roll. They didn't disappoint. Finally someone was kicking out the jams. Better Than Ezra, as far as I know, had one really big hit ("Good"), and have been living off that ever since. The thought came to mind that with the Radiators' retirement, they're poised to become New Orleans' unofficial, official party band. Like what Robert Earl Keen is to Texas.
I left there a bit early to check out Jamey Johnson, a straight up, modern country singer. Apparently he's famous in country circles...people seemed to know his songs. He looked a little like Cousin Itt; covered in hair, with a ZZ Top beard. This was pretty much modern country music, which generally means more rock than country. Johnson, however, stil had a substantial country element to his songs, and of course had a real country voice. It struck me that a mere 40 years ago, the country music establishment would have hounded someone looking like that from their midst. He's have wound up on the back of a chain being drug through rural Tennessee. Didn't anyone see the end of Easy Rider? The Byrds were booed off the stage of the Grand Ol' Opry in 1968 while playing from the landmark country rock album Sweethearts of the Rodeo, and they had relatively short hair in comparison to Johnson. At the end, the Blind Boys of Alabama joined him on stage for "I Know a Place," and "I Saw the Light." The Blind Boys used to be the "Five Blind Boys from Alabama." There's only three now, and they seem greatly dissipated from when I saw them at a night concert during the 1992 Jazz Festival.
Before Willie Nelson started, I had about 45 minutes to kill, and attended Gal Holiday's Kids Tent show. I've never mentioned it, but Jazz Festival has a substantial area for children. There's a full stage for kid-oriented acts, as well as smaller tents for games of all kinds, all kinds of arts and crafts, and music. The area had concession stands serving kid-friendly food and drinks. They play the perfect kind of upbeat, country dance music that kids enjoy. Sure enough, parents and kids alike were dancing in the Kids' Tent to Bob Wills and other old school country favorites.
Then it was on to Willie. Amazingly, I've never seen an actual Willie Nelson concert. Its always been guest appearances or TV shows. He looked pretty good, considering. The set list included some but not all of his hits (Whiskey River, Crazy, On the Road Again, Bloody Mary Morning), and covers of other songs he's recorded through the years (Good Hearted Woman, Help Me Make It Through the Night, City of New Orleans, Jambalaya, Hey Good Lookin', Move It on Over, Georgia on my Mind.). The Blind Boys of Alabama joined him for a reprise of "I Saw the Light" as the last song. Willie seemed in fine shape and was thoroughly enjoying the show. He handed out bandannas to crowd members and called out for the crowd to sing the chorus. Likewise, the crowd was really into the show as well. No encore, but it was great to see such a Texas icon doing well. Thankfully, no cops pulled over his tour bus on the way here.
I left out a few points. Zatarain's, the food distributor, hosts the cooking lessons, and gives out samples. I had some parmesan and dijon fired oysters, courtesy of Red Fish Grill (one of the Brennan family restaurants). It was really incredible. I got the recipe, though we'll see if anything comes of that. Need to make a mental note to return to these lessons.
The dust at the Fais-Do-Do stage is getting way out of hand. It looked like a scene from Sahara or Lawrence of Arabia out there. Need to get some rain soon. People were still dancing, but I could hardly breathe.
The place is awash with extremely pale white women walking around with lots of skin exposed. What the hell is that? They look nearly translucent, except towards the end of the day when their pale skin is bright red in places. Hey pale people...wear a big hat, cover up, and go for the SPF 50. Or better yet, stay inside. Your vampire-like paleness is going to blind some people, and you're risking cancer the longer you're out there.
Finally, I've had several people come up to me and ask me whether I'm with the media. Someone at Jamey Johnson specifically asked me if I was a Times-Picayune reporter. I write notes in the small moleskin notebook my friend Theresa gave me, but otherwise don't think I resemble a reporter. Certainly not the way I wander off mid-show. Once upon a time, people asked me if I was a preacher. Now its reporter. What's next? Drug dealer? Janitor? Tom Cruise's personal assistant? Maybe I should just tell them "yes, I'm with the media," instead of having to apologetically say, "uh, no, its really nothing, I just write a blog. Pretty lame indeed.
Tomorrow: Marcia Ball, Trombone Shorty, Allen Toussaint, The Strokes, Bobby Blue Bland, BeauSoleil, and so many others.
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