Lost New Orleans

Musicians

One-Nostril Clyde
Toothpick Willie
Joseph 'Vaseline' Brunelle
Clyde 'Ofal' Pivnik
L'il Chicklets
Big Sluice
Leroy 'Creampie' Shavely
Melatonin Slim
Rufus 'Cutacle' Scaline
Buzz The Flea
Girdle and Griddlecakes Duffy(Siamese twins)
Oleander 'Sniffles' Zampa
Two-Crack Max Figgis
Langdon 'Crabcakes' Beaudoin

Joints

Sweetie Pie's Monodrome
Mamie's Mantis Hideaway
Queen Lillie's Nectar trap
Pookie's Natural Foods
Betty's Both-Ways Cabaret
Rita's Donuts and Crullers

Musical Organizations

Krispy Taylor's Trudgers
Juan San Juan and His Coffin Twirlers
Harry Ruby and the Minyon-aires
Clyde Baleen and the Super Sieve Six
The South Rampart St. Rhythm Manglers
Ollie's Watchfob Handlers
Louis The Greek's Menthol Stompers
Colonel Butt's Aftertaste Ragtime Orchestra
Ben Bichette's Trough Scrapers

 

New Orleans Trumpets and the Lowly Hankie

I know what you're saying: finally, a post that combines jazz and handkerchiefs...

Truth is, the lowly handkerchief has a venerable presence in New Orleans jazz trumpet. Maybe it's the humidity. One of the first great New Orleans trumpeters, Freddie Keppard, played with a handkerchief covering his valves-at least when he thought other trumpet players were close enough to cop his fingerings, although Sidney Bechet disputes that. Freddie seems to have been paranoid enough about other players copping his licks that he apparently ceded the chance to make the first "jazz" recording to the Original Dixieland Jazz Band.

Tommy Ladnier, another user of the handkerchief. 

Roots of Honk!

                                                                                                                             

The Duplex Mystery Jazz Hour on October 3 and upcoming on the 10th showcase music that inspires many of the brass bands playing October 11-13 in Honk, probably the largest gathering of street brass bands in the world.

This program focuses on early brass band music-mostly from New Orleans. The next show will feature the new brass music from New Orleans and some Balkan music, another strong influence for Honk! bands.

Here's the show.

Playlist

The Laneville-Johnson Union Brass Band"Preaching tonight" from "Music From the South" (1955), on Folkways 

James Reese Europe "That's Got Em" from "That's Got Em" (1919), on Pathe 

Louis Armstrong "When the Saints Go Marching In" from "Jazz at Newport" (Jazz, 1919), on Wolf 

Louisiana Rep Orch. "Panama" from "Marching, Ragging" (Jazz, 1989) on Stomp Off 

Eureka Brass Band "Panama" from "Jazz At Preservation Hall" (Jazz, 1966) on Atlantic 

New Tuxedo BRass Band "Hymn Medley" from "Jazz Begins" (Jazz, 1959) on Atlantic 

Bunk Johnson "Oh Didn't He Ramble" from "Bunk's Brass Band" (Jazz, 1945) on American Music 

Eureka Brass Band "Just a Little While" from "Jazz At Preservation Hall" (Jazz, 1966) on Atlantic 

George Lewis "Fidgety Feet" from "At New Orleans" (Jazz, 1946) on Riverside 

Olympia Brass Band "Down By The Riverside" from "Here Come. Da.." (Jazz, 1974) on Preservation Hall 

George Lewis "Salutation March" from "At New Orleans" (Jazz, 1946) on Riverside 

Chosen Few Brass Band "Mardi Gras" from "Mardi Gras" (Single, 1985) on SYLA 

Olympia Brass Band "Eh la Bas" from "Jazzly Yours" (Jazz) on Maison Soul 

Nature-And Roman Drivers-Abhor a Vacuum

Fifteen of us in the Second Line Social Aid and Pleasure Society Brass Band (SLSAPS) were in Rome last week to play in Sbandata Romana, a festival of street brass bands from Europe (and us) put together by the band Titubanda.

We brought our music to the people of Rome-not just in the park where the festival was held-but in streets, markets, bars and restaurants...While there is some overlap in the music played by many of the bands-especially funk stuff-the New Orleans tunes and tinge that we bring sounded fresh, resonated strongly and the reception was, well, splendida. 

I encountered a fascinating city: complex, sprawling and gritty, with pieces of different epochs sprouting out of the sidewalks next to and sometimes, on top of one other. 

Although my impressions are essentially uninformed (readers of this blog would expect no less), the city I criss-crossed in trams and buses seemed very similar to the city I saw in Italian movies of the 30's and 40's. Films like Open City, Bicycle Thieves and early Fellini films were called "Neo-realist," but the reality they represent-at least the pictorial reality-seems so much the same today that the word "Neo" might, by this point, be dropped.

It's a city which balances "slack" and the work ethic differently than we do in the U.S. You gotta love that no one seems to actually pay to get on a tram or a bus. On the other hand, new metro construction creeps ahead slowly. There are always archaeological concerns, of course, but financing with almost no ridership revenue has to be a challenge.

People do bustle and hustle. Street life is fast and furious. Nature and Roman drivers abhor a vacuum and any and all available space is immediately filled by two cars or 5 motorbikes. (parking spaces that would here be taken up by 2 SUV's have 6 vehicles in them). 

On the other hand, many places close for 2-3 hours during the afternoon; meeting times are, ah, flexible and pulses, while beating at an urban pace, seem less susceptible to fibrillation. 

Trumping up a conclusion to this meandering piece would only be gilding what was a lily of an experience. Let this stand as a paieon to the great hospitality of our Titubanda hosts, the wonderful spirit of our fellow bands and to the people who understood how lost Patricia and I were (several times), took us under their wings, fed us, comforted us and guided us on our way. Un milion di grazis!

Traditional Jazz and Storytelling

My last post(see just below) got a thread going on the Yahoo group of my band. Much of the conversation is about why young people-even those getting into jazz-don't pick up on the New Orleans tradition.

Brief History
The style we now call Traditional New Orleans music was a vital force until about the mid-late 1920's. Its influence was felt in all the branches of jazz that sprouted across the U.S. and it helped bifurcate popular music into "sweet" and "hot."

In the 1930's, this style began to be widely seen as out of date-by musicians and the audience. Then, in the late 1930's, some of the earlier N.O. players were "rediscovered." This re-established the music and also marked the start of what became the war between the "moldy figs" and the beboppers.




Since that time, Trad seems to have joined the list of jazz styles that continue to survive, with more or less vitality, or been absorbed into hybrid forms. I.e.,  barrelhouse/boogie-woogie, big bands, "free/New Thing," "West Coast," "soul-jazz," "hard bop..."

While traditional jazz is foundational for what we now call "mainstream" jazz, its influence is not easy to hear.

The Nub of the Matter
Like almost all musicians who grew up post-Bird, my musical influences played a lot of notes. At this point, I find it very challenging to pare back and find fewer and better notes. Harmony has obviously grown more complex and that is a double-edged sword. Our technical vocabulary has grown so large that we can justify playing almost any note at any time. It's incredibly interesting to wander one's self or to hear someone else wander into an improvisational blind alley and try to get out. New musical options-chromatics, passing tones, "off-the-horn" sounds and substitutions allow you many ways to do that. But is the process like going to the supermarket and being able to choose between 100 kinds of dishwashing soap? Does having so many choices drain meaning from each choice?

There's no right or wrong, of course, and I'll continue to listen to and love Bird and others with a fluent and enormous musical vocabulary. BUT, story-telling has always been at the center of Jazz. At certain points in our musical culture, the stories jazz musicians told were the stories many people wanted and needed to hear. In eschewing an older, simpler and more direct language-traditional New Orleans music-are we missing an important chance to connect?

"The Trad Jazz Paradox"

I play trumpet in The Second Line Social Aid and Pleasure Society Brass Band- a group that plays (mostly) a mix of newer and older styles of New Orleans Brass band music. Call me delusional, but audiences seem to really like the antideluvian stuff we play. It animates people; makes 'em want to move and smile (the Saints) or get serious, if necessary (St James Infirmary).

This music may have a tinge of quaintness, but it is not "retro." It continues to have the core power to move.

OK, there are a few side factors:

-There are specifically funky tunes (Funkin' It Up, our version of Mercy, Mercy, Hurricane Season...)
-There's the oddity factor, as people just don't hear this stuff around here.
-Our reputation is that we play for good causes, not for the money.
-There's usually about 10 of us, so there's the sheer volume and chaos factor.

But that list doesn't really explain it.

Look at other tunes we do:
The Saints and St. James (of course), Bogalusa Strut, That's a Plenty, Just a Little While,  Riverside, Second Line, I'll Fly Away, Just a Closer Walk...


Ok, you can get persnickety about how purely trad it is, but essentially you are talking about old fashioned, analog, un-amplified, street beat/two beat music-with a banjo and no guitar. The harmony is basically blues or other venerable chord changes and the solos are appropriate stylistically.

A live presentation of horns and percussion is always vivid, but the trad style perfectly fits this instrumentation. In New Orleans, they know this and this style and instrumentation is the foundation for a constantly evolving tradition, as personified in so many young N.O. brass bands-Dirty Dozen, Rebirth, Hot 8, Free Agents, Soul Rebels...

And yet, people generally associate the phrase "Traditional Jazz" with cheesy straw hat & garter bands (c.f. Jack Webb in "Pete Kelly's Blues"), paunchy old guys (hey, I'm a skinny old guy), and musty 78's (send those right to me).

Is the problem bad P.R.? Do we need someone to make us hip? OK, but...

"Alice in Jazzfest Land-Pt. II" Steve Provizer

In Part I (see below), I vented about what I think is Jazzfest's ill-advised turn toward more BIG NAMES. In the spirit of generous top-ten-itude for which I am famous, here's a look at the more joyous aspects of the event:

1. The Jazz and Heritage Stage (Economy Hall), the traditional jazz tent. Here can be found a cohort of people who Second Line at the drop of a bandana. Black, white, young and real old, the bliss is palpable.
     Three Economy Hall highlights: Don Vappie and the Creole Jazz Serenaders' rendition of Skoodle-um-Skoo (2) Doreen Ketchens-if Louis Armstrong had been a woman (and played clarinet), he would be Doreen. 3) Leroy Jones-the guy is a m-f-er. What he was doing in the Trad tent, I don't know. He played "My Blue Heaven" and other similar tunes, but he is a hard-bopper.

2. Soft-shelled crab po-boys, mufalettas (both vegetarian and turkey), key-lime pie and Crawfish Monica.

3. Mist-ers in the jazz tent (could be more powerful and in more tents).

4. Seriously rockin' hybrids of Mardi Gras Indians and brass bands, esp Jockimo's Groove featuring War Chief Juan and Eric Gordon.

5. They show off the young folk who still blow the horns. NOCA has a lot goin' for it. Jeremy Davenport brought John Bradley, a protegee who is in the 8th grade, onstage. Somewhat frightening trumpet player.

6. More-or-less enough port-a-potty's.

7. The Gospel Tent (caveat: painful decibel level)

8.  People still be playing the blues-with passion.

9. Lagniappe Stage-eclectically, even brilliantly programmed.

10. I had no ticket for Saturday; had one for Sunday, but mistakenly brought an already-used ticket. Both days, I got in. Only in New Orleans.

I will be posting audio, including an interview with Doreen Ketchens, at allaboutjazz.com, so check that out in the near future.

"Alice in Jazzfest Land-Part I." by Steve Provizer

The New Orleans jazz and Heritage Festival (Jazzfest) is both blessed and accursed. It brings out both the Jazz Curmudgeon in me and the Jazz Booster. In this entry-the curmudgeon...

I hadn't been to Jazzfest in maybe a dozen years, my patience having been worn thin by the crowds and the limitations of the jazz tent, where people squatted all day, making it hard for those of us who liked to wander around and hear some gospel, Zydeco, etc.

The incursion of BIG ACTS started to jack up the size of the crowds, and back then, the acts weren't even that big-the Allman Brothers, Van Morrison. Now, they are. Bon Jovi, Wellenkamp, Robert Plant, Tom Jones(!), Kid Rock...

This is not a philosophical, moral or musical judgement on whether these acts should be there ("All music is folk music. I never saw no mule sing it"-Leadbelly). Vive la difference. But the presence of these acts and the throngs they draw affects the experience of everyone.


There may be upsides. First, fans of Kid Rock and co. almost certainly come into contact with other kinds of music, although it's a good bet the exposure will be at the outdoor stages, not in the tents that house jazz, blues, gospel, youthful players or very small ensembles. Second, more people get a job-even if it's standing for hours in the hot sun, waving a red flag to signal pedestrians to stop and let golf carts and trucks go by.

Much remains the same-good food, great local musicians-and I'll get to that in the next post. But the fact is, my overall experience was increasingly like America is and less like New Orleans is.

I ain't saying all is rosy on the streets of N.O. If you've been there, you know, but for better or worse, the place is different than any other city in the U.S. It's beautiful/ugly, wily, inventive and desperate. Even when it succeeds in being slick, there's an edge to it, always the sense that the whole thing may spill uncontrollably into the streets and end up in the local lockup.

Jazzfest is headed in the opposite direction. It's an entity whose demographics are increasingly appealing to larger corporations; the natural result of a growth spiral which favors the favored. It mirrors the growth of suburban pop concert venues twenty miles away and the demise of the corner bar.

Again, I'm not talking about some ineffable nostalgia. I'm talking about what sound the wind carries to your ears as you wade through the crowd, about having to look at thousands of people who agreed to put Shell Oil co. logo stickers on their hats and shirts so they might win some free gas and yes dammit, about people who wouldn't recognize a trumpet if you dropped one on their head.


Next time: The Upside: Misters in the Jazz Tent.

Walter Polite-A Bayou Working Man & Musician

I wrote this article about Walter Polite (pronounced Po-leet) for the Christian Science Monitor in 1997 and Walter died soon after. I reprint it here because I'm going back to N.O. and the memory of this bayou working man sitting on his front porch, grandkids running in and out while he played for me for hours, is one I'd like to summon up one more time...

NEW Orleans and the surrounding Louisiana countryside have proven as fertile in the generation of music as any region of the United States, perhaps the world. Jazz, Cajun, zydeco, and Mardi Gras music were all spawned here; Afro-Caribbean, gospel, blues, and rhythm-and blues have all flourished here.

To explore this legacy and especially today's Cajun and zydeco (“ZY- deco") music - a type of accordian-driven Cajun music blending blues and country idioms - I spent some time this spring in New Orleans and the bayou country, timing my visit to coincide with the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival in May. This event, aside from presenting nationally- known acts, is a magnet for many of the area's crafts people, chefs, and, of course, musicians. I enjoyed the varied culinary specialties as well as the jazz and blues music, but I especially sought out the Cajun musicmakers.

Allen Fontenot, a Cajun fiddler and leader of a group called the Country Cajuns, recalled what it was like decades ago to be a young musician in local dance halls. Speaking in a patois that is itself a combination of ethnicities, Mr. Fontenot said, “You used to pay a quarter to get into the country dances and for that you’d get a live band and a big bowl of gumbo at 11. We used to call these dances 'fais dodo,' which means 'make sleep. You see, young couples would bring their little children to the dance, and they'd have to try and get them to go to sleep before they could party.”

While this kind of a dance is rare today, I discovered that the bayous and the country roadhouses that keep the music alive have remained pretty much the same for the last 50 years. Swamps dense with vegetation and squat cinder block or tin buildings with names Iike the "Half Moon” and "Coz's Blue Goose Lounge" still dot the countryside from outside New Orleans to Lafayette and New Iberia, “the heart of Cajun country."

It was on a trip to New Iberia that I met someone who personifies Louisiana's indigenous music culture. Walter Polite, born 75 years ago in St. Martinville, La., is a robust working man, who made his living as a laborer.

“I worked in the field, worked in the swamp, worked on the levee--all hand work," he said. "Never drove a tractor." There is something else that Mr, Polite does with his hands, and that is play the accordion masterfully.

We sat on the screened-in front porch of his small frame house, as three other generations of the Polite family listened or went about their business. He showed me some memorabilia and talked about his history with the accordion:

“My cousin went and bought a French accordion, but he couldn't play on it, so he gave it to me; said, 'If you can play on it, take it.' So I started to play; little dances, little parties, like that …Then I lost my child, and I stopped playing for about five years, Later on, some folks asked me to play for a dance, and I picked it up and started again."

It was clear that Polite didn't really enjoy taIking about himself and wanted to get down to more important business: "Now I'm gonna play you some music - some zydeco music.”

 

Technically, the instrument he plays is a triple-row diatonic accordion, but I was totally captivated by his playing and had no desire to analyze; the man and his music seemed totally unified. With his foot keeping accurate time, he played and sang, sometime in English, sometimes in patois French: "Hey Lucía," "Lena," "My Tutu," "Zydeco Cha Cha," and others.

"I don't say I'm the best." he explained, "but I try to satisfy the people." 

In the estimation of this visitor, he certainly does that.