Let's get to it, shall we?
This morning I had breakfast at the Trolley Stop Cafe on St. Charles, a place my brother Ron took me and my Dad too once and which I've revisited many times. I enjoy the friendly, local feel and the excellent shrimp and mushroom omelette. Today, however, witnessed an unusual and momentarily harrowing experience. A couple had a cute little three year old girl sitting in a booster chair in one of their seats. The dad must have taken his eyes off the girl momentarily, because I and everyone else in the restaurant heard a crash and turned to see that little girl and her booster seat on the ground. The seat had fallen off the chair and took the girl with it. The dad was absolutely mortified, but the little girl was silent. No screaming or crying; she just looked a little bewildered at what had happened. Everyone was looking their way out of concern, and the Dad was frantic for just a bit. It all turned out just fine. The little girl was fine, and people were commiserating with them about how easy it is for that to happen. It must be difficult being a parent. You watch your kids like a hawk for 23 hours, 59 minutes and 59 seconds a day, and the one second you're even slightly distracted, your kid falls off her chair or gets into some other kind of scrape. Later in my visit I looked up and saw Aaron Neville standing beside the very next table, talking to the off duty sheriff's deputy and his friend who were sitting there. I hardly noticed him at all until I looked up. That is to say, the restaurant didn't become filled with commotion when he walked in the door. No one really stared at him or did anything different. That's a sign that you're with the locals. And...face tattoos.
For the second day in a row I missed the morning prayer at the Gospel Tent, even though I left a little earlier. The Zulu Men's Ensemble kicked off the day. Roughly 30 men strong, these Zulu members sang some great gospel music. The crowd at 11:20 was already thick and seemed ready to expand even further.
I next went to the Jazz Tent to listen to Courtney Bryan, whom the Gambit Weekly had recommended. Bryan plays a strong jazz piano. As I arrived it was just her, an outstanding bassist, and a drummer. She next announced that she was playing a series of old spirituals with several guest performers. For the remainder of the set, a collection of other musicians sat in, including a really excellent vocalist whose name I didn't catch. The music was intricate yet passionate, contemporary in feel but with echoes of those spirituals. The sheer quality of those musicians reminded me how, despite the fact that jazz is so difficult to play, very few people pay much attention to jazz or jazz players. Top to bottom, professional jazz musicians are the very best and technically proficient musicians. They often play incredibly complex arrangements, improvised solos, and must continue playing during other musicians' improvised arrangements. Musicians who devote their careers to playing jazz are in my experience nearly always far more gifted and accomplished than others, yet the general public takes almost no interest in jazz. As one of the few genuine American art forms, that's a really sad state.
After Bryan's set concluded, I set off for lunch. Eventually I settled for Prejean's pheasant, quail and andouille gumbo. Food of the Gods, folks. Their gumbo has a rich, smokey flavor but lacks the sort of "thick as paste" consistency that mediocre French Quarter serving gumbo often exhibit.
After loading up on gumbo and rosemint iced tea, I returned to the Jazz Tent to catch a bit of the Phillip Manuel show. I first encountered Manuel when he sang a tribute to Nat King Cole two or three years ago and really enjoyed his voice and phrasing. Today's show was very good as well. His style reminds one of a George Benson; very smooth and technically proficient. Manuel ranks among New Orleans' favorites.
I next went to renew my following of the "young guns" Lafayette zydeco band Feufollet. I've seen them several times now, and each time they display an interesting and fresh take on the old zydeco forms. The crowd was greater than previous times, evidencing that they may be picking up a bigger following. I didn't stay long, but this set seemed even further removed from zydeco than I remembered. Almost like a straight rock show with someone playing an accordion. They seem to draw on an even wider set of influences these days. Nonetheless, the crowd loved them and clearly got what they came for.
As Feufollet's last chords waved to the crowd, I went over to the Theresa Andersson show at the Gentilly Stage. Andersson is an accomplished violinist and "fiddle" player. Yet, she doesn't play straight country or cajun music despite having made her home in New Orleans for many years. She brought a big brass section this time and played only one song on violin (while I was there). As with Feufollet, this set seemed more pop-focused than past efforts. Entertaining, however, but just a little different.
Next up was my first trip to Economy Hall to hear Mark Braud and the New Orleans Jazz Giants. The Gambit Weekly billed them as a "Critic' Pick." I quickly learned why. Despite appearing at a venue normally reserved for traditional, highly structured jazz performers, Braud's group took significant liberties with the concept. A brass band format, Braud generally played in a contemporary, classic jazz style. This wasn't second line music. During the show, some guy sitting two seats over from me asked to see my schedule. He forgot that one hand had ketchup all over it, and promptly got ketchup over my clean schedule. His buddy explained, "at least you don't have to spend all week with him." To that I replied, "yeah, well, good luck with that." Within a couple of minutes they had taken off. Never doubt my ability to run people off. But seriously, if you ask for someone's help, don't spread ketchup all over them (uh, figuratively).
From there I went to the Marcia Ball show. This was the second Marcia Ball show in three days. As usual, she commanded the stage and she owned the Festival. Crowds swelled at the Acura Stage where she played with the same band as Wednesday. And as with Wednesday's show, she mainly selected "up" songs, with only a few ballads or pensive numbers, as befits a festival performance setting. The latter included "Louisiana 1927," which Ball seems to have adopted as her own.
After the Marcia Ball show concluded, it was on to the Jazz Tent to listen to Germaine Bazzle, longtime New Orleans jazz chanteuse. Bazzle sang a number of moving, delicate ballads in her unmistakable dark, heavy, rich voice, reminiscent of Diana Krall, though with more character. Sadly, I sat next to a gaggle of young women who talked loudly through the whole performance, ruining the experience.
So I headed on to the Lagniappe Stage to listen to the Yvette Landry Band. Landry is the bass player for another favorite cajun band, Bonsoir, Catin. The Band is an opportunity for Landry to branch out, playing more traditional, "old school" country music. Songs covered the likes of Johnny Cash and Porter Waggoner, as well as some compositions working within that vein. Still, I hope Bonsoir, Catin is still a viable act.
Then I caught a few moments of Bonerama. Another local act, they have an intense, widespread following. Its basically three guys playing trombone and running all over the stage. Behind them a conventional band plays rock and roll. The Gentilly Stage crowds were thick, and loved every minute. Another great, high energy performance.
I then moved over to the Blues Tent to watch Deacon John. John had been a session musician for many years before finally headlining and recording his own work. Head of the local musician's union now, he mainly plays private parties, casino shows, and special events like this one. The last Deacon John show I saw was really good so I was looking forward to this one. But this time, I had a real feeling that he was just mailing it in. It was as if though I were watching just the usual casino show. He brought a big band to accompany him and was technically proficient. But it lacked dedication and energy; I even noticed him looking at his watch a couple of times. A disappointing effort.
It was at this point I hoped to watch Mavis Staples, an R&B and gospel legend, performing at the Gospel Tent. It wasn't to be, however, as throngs overflowed the Tent. Jazz Fest really cheats its ticket buying fans in many ways but this is one of the worst: scheduling headliner quality acts in the smaller tents so as to try and siphon away fans from the main stages. In this case, they were obviously trying to lure people away from the Zac Brown band. But too often, the "tent" performer's fans don't overlap with the headliners' fans, so all that happens is people get turned away from the tents. I've suffered this many times, with B.B. King, Gregg Allman, Aaron Neville's gospel performances, and several others. Each deserve their own shot at the main stage, if for no other reason than so everyone can enjoy their performances.
So instead I bought a t-shirt, ate some shrimp vermicelli, and went to the Kids' Tent of all places to hear Gal Holiday and the Honky Tonk Revue. They were my great Jazz Fest find last year, playing a wide range of western swing and similar "old school" country songs. "You Are My Sunshine," "Jambalaya," and the like. Sadly, they had only the Kids' Tent show this year. Nonetheless, they were just as fun as last year. Gal Holiday stayed on stage after the show, talking to fans and others who came over to visit.
To close out the day I got a little out of my comfort zone and saw Rodrigo y Gabriela and CUBA. I can't quite describe them. Husband and wife guitarists, Rodrigo plays an absolutely incredible acoustic guitar, which, with sound effects, he can make sound electric. The style strikes me as flamenco at its core, with strains of Cuban influences. Think Gipsy Kings. They played several songs alone, then brought out a much larger band. Again, though they incorporated Cuban themes into the songs, I can't say it was really Cuban music. Rather, it seems more like Spanish or Basque music with Cuban touches. To my surprise, they had a huge following and packed the Gentilly Stage field with rabid, screaming fans. If I didn't particularly enjoy the music itself, I certainly could appreciate the unparalleled technical skill that they bring to the guitar.
After the shows, we had a really fine dinner at Mandina's, a locally owned, Creole-Italian restaurant. I had softshell crab topped with shrimp etouffee, potatoes and green beans. Another great, though filling, meal in New Orleans.
Tomorrow-the Eagles. Jeffrey Lebowski is not impressed.
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