PHOTOS: “BATON ROUGE” BILL BOELENS | For some, rain is the bane of the Jazz Fest in New Orleans. For others, it’s more of a mixed blessing since it cools you off, opens up opportunities to hear new bands, and keeps away the rookies. But the worst thing about bad weather is the slight chance that the music will be silenced. And that is exactly what happened on Friday afternoon.
Storms were forecast for both Friday and Saturday, so veteran festers were prepared. But when big red splotches began appearing on radar screens around 5 PM Friday, rain gear was readied. I was in the Jazz Tent checking out Snarky Puppy when the organizers pulled the plug. It was just too risky to allow the music to continue since hundreds of lightning strikes were being reported west of New Orleans.
But the day began auspiciously with the Jazz Fest debut of Earphunk. I have been watching this band mature and despite a late, late gig Thursday evening, they brought the goods. Most likely sleepless, one guitarist remarked than it felt like a dream to be on stage at Jazz Fest. Then he thanked the crowd for being part of the moment and said, “We’re gonna remember this day forever.”
Checking out new bands is one of the best parts of the Jazz Fest. Passing by the Fais Do Do stage in the afternoon, I was captivated by La Santa Cecilia. This Mexican-American band features a vivacious lead singer and a virtuoso accordionist/guitarist who added incredible texture to their hybrid sound. A half English-half Spanish version of “Strawberry Fields Forever” put the icing on the proverbial cake.
Saturday began with another Jazz Fest debut. Tank and the Bangas have made a meteoric rise since first appearing on the scene. Led by a whirling dancer of a singer, Tarriona “Tank” Ball, the group featured a three-man horn section (pictured above) and two background singers, dubbed the Grenades.
Next, I had to make one of those incredibly difficult choices, which are part of the Jazz Fest experience considering there are at least eleven incredible bands performing all at once, all day long. I never miss the Creole Wild West Mardi Gras Indians, but the first-ever appearance by the New Orleans Soul Stars, paying tribute to James Brown and led by journeyman funk godfather Tony Hall, was a must-see.
They delivered more than expected with the dual saxophone attack of Roderick Paulin and Jeff Watkins (Brown’s bandleader for twelve years) providing a hard punch to Hall’s knockout workout of Brown’s best material. But with a half hour left in the set, it started to drizzle. Before their time expired, strong winds were blowing and the rain was coming down in sheets obscuring the crowd.
Over at the Jazz and Heritage stage, I was told that Big Chief Walter Cook of the Creole Wild West shed his magnificent suit piece-by-piece hurling parts into the crowd. Even his beaded shoes became priceless souvenirs.
The rain eventually cleared leaving the field a muddy mess. But thousands of rookies took their leave and the rest of the day was considerably less crowded than expected.
Saxophonist Donald Harrison, Jr. played an intimate set with Dr. Lonnie Smith (pictured above) on organ in the NOCCA Pavilion. Imagine my surprise when I realized the guitarist accompanying the band was the great Will Bernard, who, as far as I know, has never headlined the fest under his own name.
I closed the day with the Kenny Garrett Quintet in a nearly deserted Jazz Tent as The Who blazed just out of earshot. Within two songs, we were sitting in the fourth row as Garrett and his band played high intensity original music at the highest level.
Sensing open-ended possibilities with such a small crowd, Garrett didn’t resort to leading a clap-along or engaging the crowd in anything so mundane, he simply started chanting in a sing-song voice, “come on up to the band, come on up to the band” while gesturing continuously in a come-hither style.
Before long, the crowd, which was already on its feet dancing (a rarity in the Jazz Tent) was complying rapturously. By the end of the set, we were deep into communal ecstasy as the crowd pushed to the edge of the stage dancing feverishly to a pied piper with a soprano saxophone. It was easily the wildest response I have ever witnessed in the Jazz Tent. By the end, Garrett was alone on the stage chanting and beat boxing like a jazz Svengali as the stage manager looked on in utter bemusement before checking his watch to insure end the set on time.
I checked out another Jazz Fest debut first thing Sunday morning. The up and coming singer/songwriter Mikayla played ukulele and keyboards while singing wistful songs accompanied by her jazzy rhythm section.
But I had to see James Andrews and the Crescent City Allstars, so I left after four compelling tunes. The “Satchmo of the Ghetto” had three guitarists and a huge horn section featuring members of Bonerama and the Dirty Dozen Brass Band (pictured above). He brought his mother on stage at the end of the set to dance Tremé-style in her baby doll costume bloomers.
Angelique Kidjo (pictured above) was the act I was most looking forward to during the first weekend. She brought a tight band featuring a bassist, guitarist, drummer, and percussionist who delivered the goods providing stellar accompaniment and great backing vocals. Ever the activist, she mentioned war and rape before playing a song, but the set remained upbeat throughout. At the end, she brought dozens of fans of all sizes, ages, and races up on stage to dance to her buoyant Afro pop.
You have to see some Mardi Gras Indians at the Jazz Fest and Big Chief Monk Boudreaux (pictured at top) and his Golden Eagles delivered down and dirty funk with a band led by keyboardist Tom Worrell. He brought at least a dozen costumed Indians and two, count them two, bone gang maskers (pictured below).
Sunday afternoon’s last time slot had something for everyone, so I decided to walk the track and check it all out. Jimmy Buffet had a smaller crowd than expected, while Pitbull had a huge one. The muscular rapper put on a show that impressed this neophyte to his music. With a pan-Latin crowd packing the track as well as the infield, his music came in short bursts of intense south-of-the-border rhythms. It was downright infectious.
The last stop was Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga (pictured below). Though it was clear their jazz was ill suited for the massive Gentilly stage. Most of the audience was rapt. Their take on “The Lady Is A Tramp” was delivered with tongue firmly implanted in cheek as Bennett subtly pointed to Gaga and she vamped in subtle acknowledgement.
Check back for Thursdays Picks!
