POST #5 - THE LOCALS STEP OUT.....

This is the day when Louisiana and "Southern" artists get to strut their stuff, and it's usually a great day to see something old and new. We're out there early enough to see the mighty Cedric Watson & Bijou Creole at the Fais Do-Do, and he gets the dust flying. Watson is at the very pointy end of Cajun accordion/fiddlers and no amount of seeing him lessens the joy he exhibits. Highly charismatic, with the right manager, Cedric Watson would be an absolute star.

Next we catch an interview with former Lil Band O' Gold accordionist Steve Riley (with Kevin Wimmer) which proves to be highly entertaining - the interviews have been great this year. Steve explains the huge impact the zydeco/cajun legend Dewey Balfa had on his career, particularly the career defining advice to "find your own voice". Came question time and Steve was quizzed by a self-aggrandizing poser who wanted related a story regarding a request to play a song being "reluctantly" turned down because the accordion was tuned to "F sharp". Amid hysterics everywhere (except for the prat who asked the question) Steve confided the obvious "he didn't want to play for you man, 'cos there's no such thing as an F Sharp accordian"...little moments that maketh the day! Riley and his Mamou Playboys later took the stage and once again ripped it apart.

The big guns were being rolled out on the Acura and Gentilly stages. Robert Randolph, John Medeski, Cody and Luther Dickinson and Chris Chew (all from the North Mississippi Allstars) got together in 2000 as a project called The Word, and 15 years later here they were. Quite simply, they were exhilarating, Randolph treats a pedal steel guitar like few (if any) others do and their show was a powerhouse potion of instrumental rock, soul and r&b. Their new album 'Soul Food' is hot off the press - go get it!

I had to race the length of the fair ground to catch one of my most anticipated "must see" acts, and I wasn't disappointed. His two albums point to a star of the future, and Sturgill Simpson proved he was the real deal. Sounding not unlike Waylon Jennings, Simpson ground mainstream country music into the dirt with his heady mix of alt-country and full on rock'n'roll.

At his right stood (he didn't move a muscle throughout) the amazing Laur Joamets, surely the finest Telecaster player ever to come from Estonia (surely you knew country music was big in eastern Europe!); seriously he could really play and he spurred Sturgill to great heights.

As the members of Union Station (the afternoon's headline act) stood watching from the side of the stage (and giving a nod of approval - whoopee!) a delirious punter behind me yelled "Waylon would be proud of you, you're the future of country music, thank you Sturgill, f*** yeah!" over and over again, it was impossible to disagree.

Union Station look on (Jerry Douglas on right loves it).

Widespread Panic held court for the final 2 1/2 hours on the Acura with a few guests floating in and out, but I didn't catch them as I wished to see Allison Krauss and her band. After four songs I had seen, more particularly heard, enough. Her vocals were flat, the sound horrid, and her stage persona as ghostly as her eyes - they look like Master Po's in the Kung Fu TV series. Don L was seriously disappointed in Krauss, and left thinking no wonder Robert Plant traded her in (musically speaking) for Patty Griffin.

Master Po!!

Back to IOU and into the tuuuuurrb for a relax as Tinno and I have a hot date tonight with Alejandro Escovedo at Chickie Wah Wah's. As we relax in the bubbling water, we meet some other tenants, like Colin and Jill the English retired couple who've popped over from Malaga for the weekend, and the brother and sister occupying a twin room that ends up in a fight and sister locking brother out of the room, and Marley who's a fan of Widespread Panic but confirms that Don L made a good call not watching them, 'cos they were a bit flat today.

The dynamic duo head off to CWW's and to put it bluntly, see one of the truly great club rock concerts. Escovedo and his band are the essence of garage rock'n'roll meets new wave meets punk meets TexMex (he hails from Austin and is of Mexican extraction) meets 'this is the future of rock'n'roll'. He's astonishingly good and in little more than an hour wastes the audience, the band, and himself, the image of him stepping off stage and walking arm in arm into the distance with his wife is firmly etched into the memory bank. Great, great show.

Friday and I'm going solo as nothing inspires the team to make the trek. She's not my thing but I have a look at Paloma Faith and she's good for about four songs, before 'ho hum' sets in. She and her band look stunning, but the funniest thing is when she exchanges banter with the crowd; it's abundantly clear that, whilst they understand her when she's singing, Louisianans are obviously not familiar with a Cockney accent and they look on bewildered, not understanding a word Paloma says!

I've liked the high powered funk of Galactic for a long time, but having a clearly out of it Macy Gray as lead singer was a bridge too far for me. I'm officially off the Galactic bandwagon (moreso after Moore and Mercurio's appalling lateness earlier in the week).

I race over to the Blues Tent (don't ask me why he's here!) to catch the second Australian on the festival bill - Gurrumul. He plays for an hour, singing in his ethereal manner, telling his life story in song, singing his traditional aboriginal tales, and winning the blues crowd over. I hovered front stage waiting for a flicker of a smile - not to be I'm afraid, and he departed to a fitting standing ovation; nice one.

Irma Thomas is in the Gospel Tent and I catch a bit of her. She looks lovely and is in wonderful voice, but it's the 'message' that drives Don L away - give me the secular Soul Queen Of New Orleans any day.

Then it's over to see Waylon's boy Shooter (great name), but despite the exhortations of a certain member in the crowd (I'm starting to suspect he's stalking me!!) that "your dad would be proud of you" (and I'm sure he would), I can't help think that Shooter Jennings wishes he was Sturgill Simpson!

He's stalking me!

As I walk to the shuttle bus, I watch a little of the brass-rock behemoth Chicago. Still featuring four original members (out of nine) is an impressive effort after all this time, but really, it was pretty turgid stuff, and when they launched into 'I'm A Man' I knew it was time to hit the frog.

There were a couple of other acts spotted in passing, like the Preservation Hall Band, Lil' Buck Senegal and neo soul singer Erica Falls, who took the award for most ridiculous haircut at JazzFest,

Preservation Hall Band

Lil' Buck Senegal

Erica Falls

Great 'do!

Urgh, she's got gum in her mouth!