I am writing this on Monday, while eating a big bowl of oatmeal for brunch, after sleeping in. I'm not as young as I used to be, and Jazz Fest can really wear you out, even if (like me) you don't drink alcohol and you try to stay shaded and hydrated. Frankly, I feel a little beat-up and I'm glad that today is Monday.
Yesterday was cloudiest day of the Fest so far, and so it was also the least sunny. The weather forecasters had said that the wind would be around 12-15 miles per hour, and sometimes it seemed even stronger than that -- great natural air-conditioning. Because of Big Man's Gospel Tent set, we arrived the earliest I've ever been to the Fest, 10:30 am (which is actually before the Fest opens). We came through the deliciously named Mystery Gate (named for the street, but still) for the Musicians' Parking Lot. As we unpacked our stuff from the car, the musicians' shuttle came over to get us. We said Gospel Tent and were driven straight there. We met Jo Cool at the entrance to the backstage area, and were given our coveted backstage passes. We were about an hour early for the Jo Cool Davis set, so I ran over to the nearby Cafe du Monde booth to get an iced coffee for Big Man and a café au lait -- and yes, readers, I lost control of myself and got an order of beignets for me!
Inconveniently, I realized that it would have been smart to have brought the folding chairs from the car so that they could be set up at Congo Square for Earth Wind and Fire later in the day. I caught another musicians' shuttle back to the parking lot and then yet another to Congo Square (gosh, ya gotta love having access to those air-conditioned shuttles!). I unfolded our chairs in about the third makeshift row of other empty chairs, in the middle by the orange "track" that covers all the sound cables behind the barrier that separates the riffraff from the Grand Marshall/Big Chief area. A small band I didn't know, cryptically named "E.O.E." was on stage, doing creditable R&B. As I prepared to leave, the leader said, "This next tune we're proud of, it went to #1 in Uzbekistan, where our bass player is from. Any Uzbekis out there?" Apparently there were not. What a cool Jazz Fest moment. Then I cut across the field to the Gospel Tent, in time to hear the men of the Mass Zulu Choir rockin' it out.
I sat in the guest grandstands in the backstage area of the Gospel Tent as Big Man took the stage with Jo Cool. I am of course major prejudiced, but I thought the horn line, led by Big Man, sounded terrific. As Big Man gets more and more familiar with Jo Cool's "book," he just gets stronger in playing with him. In addition to Big Man, the players included our friend T on sax, another sax man J, Deacon John's brother on bass, C on keyboards, Joe Krown on more keyboards, a woman drummer, and another woman I had not seen before playing electrified fiddle. Jo went through his unique takes of classic hymns and R&B love ballads rededicated to Jesus. The tent was filled, not packed, but nearly every seat taken, and the crowd was mixed as to age and race (and apparently, locals and out-of-towners, judging from the reaction Jo got when he asked if anybody remembered Dr. Daddy-o, the iconic pompadored DJ of black radio back in the day) and were wildly enthusiastic.
When the set was over and the musicians got paid, T and Big Man and I hauled it at a run to the luckily next-door Blues Tent, where their next gig was set to begin in 10 minutes. We were too late to get our backstage passes, but they let us through with the Gospel stickers. (Technically, the Jazz Fest security folks are NOT supposed to let in backstage passes from one stage as backstage guests at another stage, but almost all of them do.) I used the musicians' portalet backstage (*another* terrific perk of the backstage pass -- portalets with absolutely NO lines!), and took a seat in one of the chairs in the backstage guest area, next to someone wearing a brass pass.
This set was for Guitar Slim Jr., the Grammy-award winning son of another legendary blues guitarist. Slim sometimes plays with the Bourbon Street band that is Big Man's regular 5-nights-a-week gig, which is how Big Man and T got the Jazz Fest gig. The set started with just the band, with Slim lurking behind the stage set, awaiting his special intro. Big Man blew a *smokin'* solo and some in the crowd jumped to their feet, hollering. Big Man doffed his hat to acknowledge the applause. Slim came to the stage, in a red suit and a sequined vest adorned with musical notes, and really had the crowd going with every tune. I was delighted to see how much the crowd appreciated the horn line, and my Big Man.
When the set was over, Big Man went after Slim for the payment, but was put off by "take care of it this week" (which we truly hope will be true). Big Man belatedly obtained his Blues Tent backstage sticker, and we headed, as quickly as possible, to the packed Economy Hall tent, where the Pfister Sisters had already begun their 30th anniversary show. Everyone there was a Pfister enthusiast, and there was a crowd outside almost equalling the one inside. We got into the backstage guest area (thank god for those lax security guards!), and then, having made sure Big Man had a place to sit after all that blowing, I went to forage food. My rule is, I never get into a food, drink, or portalet line that is longer than 3 people, and thus I ended up at the booth selling catfish meunienre with pecans, merliton seafood casserole, crabmeat cake with horseradish remoulade -- not wanting to make a choice, I got the combo. (*Always* get the combination plate at Jazz Fest, it's the best deal.)
I got back to Economy Hall just as Holley Bendtsen was introducing all the guests on the stage -- it being the anniversary show, there were the sisters' collective children and every woman who had ever been a Pfister or subbed as one. As Big Man and I savored the terrific food (the short line method almost always gets your terrific food that the mob has not heard of yet), the combined Pfisters went into their soulful version of "Louisiana" ("Get out your handkerchiefs," advised Holley). This was followed by some other Pfister favorites, including one of those where the girls imitate horns with their scatting voices. Yvette Volker was standing on our side of the stage, and it was great to watch her getting so much enjoyment from performing, and performing so well. They ended with "Laissez Faire" -- co-written by Holley Bendtsen about why life in New Orleans is the way it is. The crowd, including us, hollered their part of the chorus, "Lay-say fair" each time it came around. It was standing O's all around, front of the house and backstage, as the Pfisters came off the stage. We greeted and congratulated Holley, and gave Yvette big hugs.
We caught a shuttle back to the parking lot, where we stored Bog Man's trumpet in the trunk and stashed Big Man's straw hat. (It was so windy, he was afraid he'd lose it.) From there, we walked over to the Jazz Fest Store, where Big Man purchased a purple Jazz Fest 09 baseball cap -- he virtually *never* wears baseball caps, for all his hat-wearing, but he figured that a cap would be almost impossible for the wind to take. We tried to buy a tote bag (the "re-Museable" bag caught during Carnival had disappointingly popped a strap) but were unsuccessful in that. (Next weekend, only big sturdy tote bags with well-sewn, strong straps! Plus, I'm adding a small emergency sewing kit to the Jazz Fest supplies. See next post for my recommendations on what should be in the well-stocked Jazz Fest bag.)
Using our backstage passes, we went behind the barrier at the Jazz Tent as they set up for Terence Blanchard. Big Man was totally impressed to see that a piano tuner was hard at work on the grand piano on the stage; we wondered, but did not know, whether this was something they automatically did between every act, or whether it was something special just for Terence's band. As is usual with the "big names" the band came on without Terence to play the first tune (Big Man says it's as much a sign of respect for the band as an honor for the headliner). Then Terence came out with the sax player, greeted some folks warmly, and made for the stage. As he passed me, I began to clap, and he nodded and tipped his trumpet to me as he climbed the stairs to the stage.
That trumpet bears some notice. It was, of course, a Monette, custom-made only for him, so the mouthpiece was an integral part of the trumpet, not removable as on a regular, normal trumpet. The finish was matte brass, and featured the heavy diagonal bracework typical of a Monette. Terence had a wireless microphone and a harmonizer-thingy attached to the bell of the horn (the harmonizer makes it sound like more trumpets playing in harmony together), and had a gorgeous rich dark tone. He moved all around while playing, freed-up by wireless, bending and straightening, blowing to the crowd and to the ceiling of the crowded tent. We stayed for 2 tunes, enjoying it, Big Man watching and listening closely, but truth to be told, it's not really our kind of music (we'd've enjoyed it a lot more if Terence had played some of his movie sound track work or selections from his Katrina Memorial.) So we headed back to the Blues Tent for the rest of the Dew Drop Inn Revisited New Orleans All Stars Show.
Once again we sat in the backstage area, and rocked and grooved as Deacon John on guitar, his brother on bass, a 6-piece Wardell Querzergue-style horn line, a drummer, and pianist ran through well-beloved old New Orleans R&B hits. Big Man did not recognize as many as I did, he said it was because both he's younger than me (brag, brag), and that some of the tunes never made it as big hits up North. Special favorites for me were Robert Parker doing "Barefootin' " (crowd goes wild, takes off shoes and waves 'em in the air), and Al Johnson doing "Carnival Time" (crowd screaming all the words along with him). After a LONG (I mean REALLY, REALLY long) intro, the tremendously great, absolute genius Allen Toussaint, dapper as ever in a jacket and tie, was brought to the stage, taking the grand piano and taking control of the band. (In Deac's defense, anyone introducing Allen is faced with decades and decades of hit after hit after hit, and a long line of other famous people he's written for, played with, or whose records he's produced.) After 3 great tunes, Allen ended with a rousing version of what has become his post-Katrina anthem of hope (even though he wrote it years before), "Yes We Can Can." Just a bit teary, I sang the chorus with him, along with much of the crowd, and when he was done, we stood up and jumped up and down, and screamed our heads off. Nothing could top that, so we left, satisfied and almost drained.
Feeling a bit peckish, we detoured to the Cracklins and Sweet Potato Chips booth, where we had the inspiration to eat them together -- we heartily recommend this combo! We were heading back -- finally! -- to our chairs already set up at Congo Square for Earth Wind and Fire, but the crowd had swelled to such proportions that people were practically sitting in the Congo craft booths, and set up even in the forbidden ditch on the track side. It was an incredible crowd; Jazz Fest had missed by not having them at a larger stage. It was a surreal trek to our chairs, since nobody ever thinks of people navigating through when they set up their chairs and blankets so close together. And we were carrying food! It took seemingly forever, but most folks were friendly and cooperative.
And then when we got close to where our chairs should have been, we couldn't see ANY empty captain's chairs in bright blue, our chairs' color. Then we figured that somebody might be sitting in our chairs while they were empty -- which is OK under the unwritten rules of the Fest, but still, they didn't seem to be where they should have been. We moved forward a little, which wasn't easy, believe you me, given the press of the crowd, and finally seemed to see our chairs, with kids sitting in them, in a what looked like a family group. "Are those *your* chairs?" I asked, and got a no. The kids jumped up and made like to fold the chairs up and give them to us, but I said, "No, no, we want to *sit* in them, they were set up here for Earth Wind and Fire." (But the chairs were not where I left them, they were further back, and moved to the right off center. The nice black family there told us that they had also set their chairs up for this set, and that when they arrived, all their chairs, as well as ours, had been *folded up and moved*. We commiserated with each other, us and them, over this incredible breach of Jazz Fest good manners. Really, in all my years of fest-going, that has NEVER happened. it was disappointing, but I was determined not to let it ruin the good feelings of the fest.
We made friends with the family, who turned out to be gospel performers with their church choir, and they were impressed I was a pastor (which they had found out because I had slipped my business cards into the ID window on the bags for the chairs). We were squeezed pretty close together, and there were people who thought nothing of standing in the tiny space between our feet and the chairs in front of us, but what the hey, it was Earth Wind and Fire and we were right there.
EW&F took the stage, dressed in cool festival bling and ran through their hits, but the horn line was sadly limp, playing some things a full octave below the original versions, and with a lot of songs now having a big bass solo inserted where there hadn't been one before. The crowd was happy and sang along with gusto, but it seemed to Big Man and me that it was like listening to a high-quality lounge tribute act to Earth Wind and Fire. Even if Big Man had not had to get to Bourbon Street to play that night, we still would likely have left when we did, it was so disappointing, such a let-down. (Just to confirm our judgment of the set, as we were making our way through the packed crowd, the band started "Sunny." SUNNY?? That's not a EW&F song! Like what, they ran out of EW&F hits to cover?? What a drag.) We should've gone to Dave Matthews.
On our way out, we stopped at the Mid-East booth by Jamila's and picked up their combo plate, which they generously over-filled, it being the end of the fest and all -- lamb tagine (a spicy stew over jasmine rice) some delicious tangy eggplant thing, and a lamb merguez (sausage) sandwich. Close to the musician's parking lot, we got to hear High Masekela's big band wailing through his big hit "Grazing in the Grass." Maybe we should have gone back to the Jazz Tent. Oh well, Jazz Fest is all about choices, and it's impossible to hit everything exactly right.
Still and all, a great Fest day to end the first weekend, with Big Man's first time playing twice on one Jazz Fest day.
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