THIS TIME I'M WALKIN' TO.....
...well New Orleans of course, it's Jazzfest time of year. It's a leisurely 'three movie' flight (Movie Tip: watch 'The Big Short' - astounding!) to Dallas/Fort Wirth airport where I'm due to meet up with Tinno for the short domestic flight to the Big Easy.
Despite a three hour gap between flights Don L manages to get to the boarding gate as it's closing (Travel Warning: do not use D/FW for a domestic connection under any circumstances unless you have a 4 hour window - it's a disaster zone and security don't give a hoot about your connecting flight!). We finally made it to New Orleans' finest boutique hotel in one piece, the Inn On Ursulines - let the F-U-N begin.
After picking up our festival tickets we pick up our hire car for the day, and pleasant surprise #1. We're running a couple of hours late and all the economy vehicles we ordered are gone - which means we get an upgrade to the BIG HORN!
Well it's fair to say we thought we were Rey Mierda in our giant pick-up truck (the only thing missing was a gun rack in the back) as we headed off to Houma and our annual date with culinary destiny at the famous Boudreau & Thibodeau Cajun Cookin' Roadhouse.
We met up with Nali, a lovely lady previously domiciled with her family in Madrid, and the crawfish, gumbo and blackened catfish didn't stand a chance!
Afterwards, we bid 'adios' to Nali and headed to New Iberia to check out the art deco buildings (the 1930 Evangeline Theatre neon sign is one of the first in Louisiana) only to be greeted by a deluge of second coming proportions, effectively shutting down the town.
It's fair to say that this year's festival artist roster hasn't inspired us to a great degree, but there's always pleasant surprises in store, as well as healthy portions of Crawfish Monica and Mango Freeze!
The overnight storm has made things a tad damp underfoot but not unmanageable. The Deslondes were in fine form on the Fais Do-Do stage with their mixture of country, folk and cajun.
Under a blazing sun, the injuns were out in force, always colourful, sometimes controversial, winding their way through the festive crowds (it's only when they go on stage and start singing that they become a concern!).
As for last year, the "sign girls" were in action, providing a service for the hearing impaired. It's truly fascinating to watch, and raises the question "why would someone who can't hear come to a music festival?". Don Legsy suggested they could enhance their service further by doing some air guitar during the solos - not sure whether they took up my suggestion!
We stayed put after the 'dudes 'cos the sanctified Walter Trout followed with a blistering set of blues rock. When it comes to guitar licks, Walter's no fish out of water, and he took the time to inform all and sundry of his recent dice with death, thanking the Almighty One at every opportunity (although getting the band in a circle for a prayer before the set started was a step too far!).
Given Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings were the day's headline act on the Blues stage, was there any reason for us to vacate? Hell no, especially as the egomaniacs known as Steely Dan were occupying the main Acura Stage! They are they finest retro soul band on the planet and Shazza's a blazing pocket dynamo,
although first we had to suffer a guest spot from her backing singers Saun & Starr (who demonstrated exactly why they're backing vocalists and not lead singers!). Now you may think that this is the duo's surname, but of course, you'd be wrong; they are SAUNdra Williams and STARR Duncan Lowe - honestly, some parents have got a lot to answer for!
Anyway, Shazza finally came out and you know, the excitement had been sucked out of the audience; after 4 songs that all sounded the same, we opted for the early exit, wandering past the terminally boring Gov't Mule (featuring Warren Haynes) in full jam band flight on the Gentilly Stage. We had bigger fish to fry!!
Three Keys is a new music venue in the city and tonight we've got VIP tickets (natch!!) to see legendary guitarist/producer Daniel Lanois and 'go-to' drummer Brian Blade.
Three songs into a jaw dropping set, Danny introduces his special guest, none other than Darryl Jones. Who? Well, anyone who has listened to the Rolling Stones since 1993 has been unwittingly listening to Darryl in his role as the band's anonymous bass player. A great little venue and highly memorable night.
It's Saturday and we take our time to get to the Fairground. Once again the bill is light on for really interesting acts, so we make our way to hear the Soul Queen Of New Orleans - the mighty Irma Thomas - being interviewed by renowned producer Scott Billington. As sound bites of her numerous hits are played through the P.A. she quietly sits back miming to her own voice. It's an entertaining interview, however one couldn't help feel that Scott could have asked some more pertinent questions.
After a quick iced hickory coffee from the WWOZ tent we hightail it over to watch three legendary swamp pop singers in action. Thankfully, Willie Tee is too busy blowing his sax to sing,
before all and sundry are dwarfed by the larger than life Warren Storm. Now a sprightly 79, Warren's still in stellar voice and clearly loves what he does - right back atcha Warren!
Standing next to us was former Lil Band O' Gold saxophonist Pat Breaux and one couldn't help thinking how great it would have been to see the sum of that great band's parts re-unite (sadly, that will never occur).
I'm keen to see the final two acts on the Gentilly. Nathaniel Rateliff and the Night Sweats are on the crest of a wave and the reinvented navel gazer brings the house down as he and his band deliver a soul shaking rendition of their stunning debut album.
This paves the way, amid high expectations, for Van Morrison to take the stage. I've never seen the Belfast Cowboy perform live and whilst I fully understand why this truly great artist demands headline status, I have slight concerns about him following an act that has just raised the (invisible) roof.
And so it proves! Van's singing is exemplary, but his five piece band is, quite frankly, a disappointment. In a seated theatre it may well have been fine, but in front of a sunbaked outdoor festival crowd it came across as pure cabaret...and it has to be said that Van possesses all the stage magnetism and attraction of like poles!
Still, I've seen him now. Tinno went to see Boz Scaggs and reported that he was pretty good, even if he didn't sing 'Lido Shuffle' while he was there!
We aren't deterred by lacklustre performances or bills, 'cos it's first Saturday night, which means we're going to the House Of Blues to see Jon Cleary & The Absolute Monster Gentlemen. Like the night before, we're treated to a brilliant set from arguably the finest purveyor of Nawlinz funk on the planet (ironic given he's English and after decades of living in NO still has a distinctly British accent).
Cleary's latest album, 'GoGo Juice', won a Grammy last year, it's a great place to start if you're unfamiliar with his music.
Sunday, and first up Corey Ledet & His Zydeco Band get the feet tapping.
After seeing a little of Henry Butler on the Congo Square Stage (and I'm pretty sure he didn't see me!!) that did nothing to really inspire,
we take a stroll past the Acura Stage where there's a huge crowd building to see headliners Red Hot Chilli Peppers,
We popped out to the contemporary market to say 'hi' to our hotel receptionist Makia who was working at the groovy Mosaic Bayou stall with the owner Christine Ledoux. There were some great pieces for sale, but alas, no way to get anything home. Christine gave us some fabulous hints on places to visit, most notably Hawks - watch this space.
I was looking forward to seeing former Carolina Chocolate Drop singer Rhiannon Giddens, and the bare footed one didn't disappoint. Whilst she covered a lot of different ground, too much variety in fact, she sings magnificently and her band was terrific, only let down by the abysmal sound mix. Rhiannon did provide one of our true highlights; it's fair to say that New Orleanians and southern folk in general can trash the French language like no other, and when she advised us of her "reason detta" for singing we both nearly fell off our chairs in tears of laughter!
Serendipity then announced itself. Headliner act Johnny Lang (in whom we had little interest anyway) was a late withdrawal, to be replaced by the Godfather Of British Blues - John Mayall! Seriously, it doesn't get much better than that! Even at 82, this most revered of bluesmen strutted his stuff with the abandon of a, well...at least 70 y.o.! Having never seen him before, Mayall physically looked every year of his age, but delivered everything one hoped for, great harp, competent keyboards, OK vocals and a gut churning, powerhouse band behind him that was there for the music and not the fashion. I suspect that John Mayall will one day go down with his hand on the musical tiller, and I'm so pleased to have finally seen him play.
As we wandered to the bus, we passed the Gospel tent where the Watson Memorial Teaching Ministry was struggling to attract a crowd, but those who were there had clearly found their personal salvation, blissfully unaware of an immortal breathing fire and brimstone and preaching the blues gospel a mere 50 metres away....hallelujah....
Tomorrow we hit the two lane blacktop.....
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