This beautiful day at the Fest I'll call Ladies' & Icons Day.
Today was cloudier than yesterday -- still blue skies, but more of the fluffy, rainless white stuff that keeps the sun from burning you up; more breezes to cool things off. Another beautiful day.
We arrived too late to catch Walter (Washington), Russell (Batiste), and Joe (Krown) -- all of whom have played with Big Man, or Big Man has played with them, depending on your perspective -- as the opening act of the Gentilly Stage, but in time to hear the closing numbers of Big Sam's Funky Nation (Big Man has sat in with them on Frenchman Street occasionally). Needless to say, the crowd went wild, audible 2 stages away.
Big Man and I did a little shopping around Congo Square; he's on the hunt for a great, retro dashiki, short caftan-thing, possibly tie-dye (heaven help us). We had fun looking, but didn't find anything up his alley. We went back to the Acura Stage, where we had set up our chairs, and enjoyed several classic numbers ("Doo Run Run," "Going to the Chapel," and of course "Iko Iko") by the original New Orleans girl-group, the Dixie Cups, the two of us feeling all gushy since "Chapel" was featured on our wedding invitations.
When they were over, we picked up some food (quail, pheasant, and andouille gumbo for Big Man and a grilled chicken livers and greens plate from Praline Connection for me), listening to the Rebirth Revival with Kermit Ruffins at Congo Square. Kermit can't help himself, he's been in show business playing trumpet since he was a little kid (old black and white photos of him by Michael Smith were on display near our chairs at Acura), and while he's not the best trumpeter in the city, he's certainly one of the most entertaining and most popular.
Then Big Man and I temporarily split up -- he to Gentilly for Ivan Neville and Dumpstafunk, and me to Acura for Pete Seeger. Quint Davis himself introduced Pete and was temporarily at a loss for words as his emotions choked him up. He wound up calling Pete "the grandfather of the Jazz Festival." Pete had with him a full folk band of much younger musicians (some of them related to Pete), and his voice when we could hear it was thin and reedy. But it was Pete Seeger, for heaven's sake, just shy of his 90th birthday, and he led us and the band in his wonderful, ageless songs, like "Turn, Turn, Turn" and retold old stories ("The Blind Men and the Elephant") in his inimitable style. It was a privilege to be there and to see and hear him one more time.
Big Man showed up and he was hot and sun-struck, so we moved to the Grandstands for air conditioning and shade. A completely unexpected pleasure --another one of those serendipitous Jazz Fest moments -- was Ms. Sharde Thomas and the Rising Star Fife and Drum, an old-fashioned combo of what looked like all women, playing wonderfully on the little Lagniappe Stage to an appreciative crowd on 2 levels of the Grandstand.
Turned out Big Man was just too tired from playing on Bourbon Street until about 2 am, and was concerned about having enough energy to play again tonight -- let alone have the energy for the two Jazz Fest gigs on Sunday! So I walked him to the exit, kissed him good-bye, and sent him home.
I kind of passed through the Blues Tent and heard a tune from Texas Johnny Brown and the Quality Blues Band, a very good hard-drivin' R&B group. As I was coming through, a phalanx of Jazz Fest security guards escorted Somebody Famous through the tent, near the front. While I couldn't see who it was, I could see the effects: folks jumped to their feet, clambered on top their chairs, craned their necks to get a glimpse, and ran to take shots with cameras and cell phones. A wave of enthusiastic applause followed the fast walking train on their progress. Never did find out who it was.
My real objective was the Jazz Tent, where trumpeter Marlon Jordan's sister, the chanteuse Stephanie Jordan, was scheduled to do a big-band tribute to Lena Horne. James Andrews, Troy's (Trombone Shorty's) older brother, was part of the band (along with a drummer, a guitarist, two trumpeters, a pianist on a grand piano, and a trombonist). The arrangements were smokin', the musicianship incredible, and Stephanie herself, in a pretty bias-cut champagne-colored halter dress, did a great job with Lena Horne-esque vocals, running through Lena's greatest hits. I was really grooving to it, and had a terrific seat, second row of the second section, directly under one of those mist-sprayers -- BUT all I could think about was that if I stayed any longer, I'd miss all of Irma. So I dragged myself out, and my seat was immediately taken.
Back at Acura, Irma Thomas was singing her heart out on an unusual choice, some classic ballad. While I couldn't hear much of it, I know the song wasn't one normally associated with Irma, because afterwards, she thanked the crowd for "indulging" her. She then launched into "It's Raining," "Time Is on My Side" (which she wrote and the Rolling Stones covered), and "Breakaway." She did her usual explanation of second-lining and encouraged the crowd to get their "back field in motion" while she sang "Iko Iko" and "Pocky Way." She gave us an encore and left us all perfectly satisfied and happy. Since you can't be two places at once, it was a good decision to leave Stephanie halfway through in order to catch half of Irma.
The schedule said there was nearly an hour between Irma and James Taylor, so I went for some food. I had been disappointed earlier that the line for soft-shell crab and soft-shell crawfish po boys was so long, so I tried it again and was pleased this time to go right up. There is NOTHING like soft-shell crawfish perfectly fried -- and it's a delicacy that is difficult to find outside the fest. (Any reader who knows a restaurant that serves 'em should clue me in!) I savored every single crumb of it. (Sincere prayer: Thank you , God, for soft-shell crawfish!!!!)
I thought I made it back to the Acura Stage with lots of time to spare, but it wasn't long after I sat down in my chair that music began to play. I thought to myself, "Are they playing *recorded* music??" but as I glanced up at the jumbo screen, I saw JT himself, the long drink of water, striding across the stage and putting on his guitar as his band played. Prize for the all-time LEAST pretentious start to a Jazz Fest set goes to James Taylor, who began with absolutely NO introduction at all. (Which I've NEVER seen any other group or artist do -- I do wonder, however, how exactly they restrained Quint Davis.)
JT was totally wonderful, laid-back, inviting, generous, appreciative of the audience and Jazz Fest and New Orleans. While introducing beloved old favorites ("You've Got a Friend") he was interesting and funny ("If I had only known when I first heard it that I'd be singing it every single day of the rest of my life..."). For "Carolina on My Mind" he gave a shout-out to all the other North Carolinians in the audience. The crowd sang along, standing and swaying in the slanted golden light as the sun went down. There must have been 30 or 40 thousand people in front of that stage, and all of them, of whatever age or race or nationality, were perfectly, perfectly happy to be there. A lovely Jazz Fest moment.
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