Jazz Fest 09 -- Day 7 (Last day)

This is how the last day of Jazz Fest 09 went:

It was a heavily overcast day, with the usual and unpredictable "scattered showers" in the forecast. The emotional feeling was ambivalent -- excitement, joy, sadness at the fest ending for the year, and yet a sense of relief that it's over, for who can keep on festing at this rate for more than 7 days? Those mixed emotions gave the day an almost elegiac air, that was aided by all the dark clouds overhead.

We arrived at the fest in time for Allen Toussaint's set at the Acura Stage, which is where we intended to set up. The stage was full, as Allen sat behind a concert grand, with a trumpeter, 2 saxophonists, and Big Sam (of the Funky Nation) on trombone, Renard Poché on guitar, a bassist, and 3 women back-up singers, all in white dresses (one of them was Elaine of ELS, the band that does commercial gigs that Big Man plays with). Allen, smooth and elegant as always in a light yellow jacket, played the piano effortlessly, his hand with their long fingers running swiftly over the keys. In a sense this set also had a somewhat mournful feel, as so many of the old hits that Allen played and sang had been written by him for other singers, now gone from us. When he did "Mother-in-Law," he referenced not only Ernie K-Doe, but paid tribute to Miss Antoinette K-Doe, who died just a few months ago. He blended "Certain Girl" (another K-Doe hit, written under the pseudonym Naomi Neville due to a record contract dispute) with "Fortune Teller" which had been the B-side of "Lipstick Traces" -- also written by "Naomi Neville, this time for the late great Benny Spellman. Of course, Allen also did a bit of "Lipstick" -- the man has so many hits he has to try to touch on them all. And he did "Night People" and "Ride Your Pony" which he wrote for the also late-great Lee Dorsey. Them gone, but Allen still here, to remember and to honor them in songs they made famous.

He reprised his wonderful "Yes We Can Can" which he had done with the New Orleans All-Stars last weekend. He sang a song I had never heard before "What Ever Happened to Rock'n'Roll" and of course he did "Southern Nights". I'm probably forgetting half of what he did, but it was a lovely musical journey through the history of New Orleans R&B and Allen's extensive songbook, with each of the terrific musicians backing Allen up getting chances for solos. Every time it was Big Sam's turn, he just blew the roof off the stage, seemingly spurring the other horn men to greater heights and more funkiness.

We left as Allen started introducing the band members, knowing that meant the end, and we hauled it over to the Economy Hall Tent to hear the New Leviathan Oriental Foxtrot Orchestra. We found 2 seats on the aisle near the front and totally enjoyed the whole NLOFO experience -- the fake-naval uniforms, the top-notch musicianship, the crazy-funny early twentieth century novelty song lyrics, the tongue-in-cheek vocals by their long-time lead singer and banjo player, the off-beat instruments, such as the theremin. We caught at least half of their set, and were as charmed and impressed as everyone else there. It's such a shame that there are few venues suitable for an 18+ piece foxtrot orchestra, because it would be so delicious to be able to hear them more often -- and even to dance to them, like the old Tea Dances at the Hyatt back in the day. (Nice Jazz Fest moment for me: a lady sitting behind me at Economy Hall tapped me on the shoulder and politely asked where I had gotten my hat. It was the new hat, purchased the day before, and I was happy to give her directions to the booth to try to get her own.)

We spent some time shopping and browsing around the fest after leaving Economy Hall. We bought some books (naturally, as neither one of us can escape from a bookstore without a purchase), were disappointed that Theresa Anderson's mind-blowing set had not been recorded (damn!), and ate some things we hadn't tried before: dibbi, curry chicken patties, creole stuffed bread. We kept up the search for an African-style shirt or dashiki for Big Man, with no luck. Eventually, we ended up back at our chairs at Acura for part of Neil Young's long set. We heard him do several old hits, to the apparent delight of the devoted fans in the crowd. (Another Jazz Fest moment: a young man screamed at the top of his lungs, "Neil, I want to have your baby!") But we're not really giant Neil Young fans -- in fact, Big Man characterizes Young's singing as "whining" -- so we left to go catch some of Los Lobos, all the way over at Gentilly.

Unfortunately, Los Lobos was a bit late getting going, but we did manage to hear around 3 songs form them, and they were hot. If we had pushed ourselves hard, we might have managed to hear some of Luther Kent and Trickbag in the Blues Tent, but we had a tacit agreement to take things easy, so we missed that set. (Later, we saw Luther in front of the Music Tent, signing CDs for his fans.)

I was feeling the need for something sweet and had originally thought the white chocolate bread pudding would hit the spot, but apparently dozens of other people had the same idea. I'm not about to break my no-line-longer-than-3-people rule on the last day, so I by-passed that crowd and went right up to the counter at Brocato's for a cannoli. They handed me a near-frozen cannoli in a sealed plastic bag, which turned out to be a darn good thing, as you'll see.

As we walked back to our chairs through the large crowd (but NOT as large as it had been the day before for Bon Jovi), dark clouds rolled in overhead, covering the sun and dropping the ambient temperature noticeably by something like 10 or more degrees. The wind picked up too. Uh oh. I figured we were just about to make sure that there was rain for this year's Jazz Fest. We got to our chairs, pulled out my folding umbrella, stashed our double-bagged books in our canvas bag and then put the bag under my chair for extra safety, got out the baggies with our plastic ponchos (souvenirs from the Cherokee Nation's sound and light show, "Unto These Hills" from last summer), and made ourselves ready. We had just tucked our ponchos around us when the rain started -- at first gentle pattering, but then settling into a full-fledged downpour. (My precious cannoli was safe inside its plastic bag, until the rain stopped enough for me to bring it out.)

Luckily, it was during the break between Neil Young and the Neville Brothers, so we weren't missing anything. It was great fun watching folks cope or not cope with the downpour -- pulling tarps off the ground to hold over their heads, the wide variety of ponchos, rain coats, rain suits, garbage bags, umbrellas of diverse sizes and diverse stages of repair. Some folks gave up and were just strolling through it, wet to the skin, hats ruined, feet black with sticky mud. Believe it or not, at 5:39 pm, by the watch on the guy next to me (our cell phones were safely bagged in plastic and deep inside the canvas bag), the rain pretty much stopped, except for the occasional drizzle-mizzle. And so, exactly at 5:40 pm, just as scheduled, Quint Davis came to the mike to introduce "The First Family of New Orleans Music" and the Nevilles came out to screams and applause from the die-hard fans standing or sitting on the soggy field in front of the stage.

As The Nevilles began the set with a long medley of Mardi Gras Indian tunes in honor of their uncle Big Chief Jolley (of the now-defunct Wild Tchoupitoulas), the 2 Andrews brothers, James (trumpet) and Troy ("Trombone Shorty") came on stage, with big hugs from the Nevilles, and blew through the Indian tunes with them. Aaron dedicated "Sarah Smile" to his fiancée, and sang "Tell It Like It Is" with every couple in the damp crowd (including us, of course!) swaying romantically, many doing the slow drag despite the misty light rain. Charles played, Cyrille hollered, Artie sang and played keyboards. To our excitement, Jason Neville came out and sang one number with his father Aaron backing him up. It couldn't have been better, and none of us cared about the come-and-go drizzles. We were warm and happy and connected, to one another and to the men on stage, our leaders, our father-figures, our family. We couldn't believe it was time when Quint came back on, introduced everyone on stage, and pronounced us all Nevillized, and Jazz Fest over for its 40th year. Then he said, "Aaron, please take us out with a prayer." And Aaron sang "Amazing Grace" as only he can, and we were all blessed.

As The Nevilles came to the edge of the stage and took bow after bow, Quint grabbed the mike again. "They don't understand us, those people not from here. They didn't think we should have Mardi Gras after Katrina; they didn't think we should have Jazz Fest after the Storm. They don't know us. They don't know why we need these things and why we dance at funerals after our loved ones are laid to rest. We are who we are -- we are the Family of New Orleans, and the Nevilles are like the heads of our family. This is who we are." Oh god, he probably said more, but I was all choked up and had to turn away.

This is who we are. Jazz Fest is another one of our sacred holidays, with its rituals and foods and great moments. And it's over for another year.