First of all, a shout-out to the Gods of Weather. Temperatures were slightly below normal, there were blessed clouds all three days (we want clouds, because they mitigate the sun beating down on us), and there was a brisk breeze, like natural air conditioning, felt especially in some of the tents.
Some of our favorite highlights:
Women's Day on Friday, April 27. We started in the Jazz Tent with our friend, the delightful Cindy Scott and segued into Leah Chase (yes, Ms. Leah of Dooky Chase Restaurant's daughter), who also had Cindy Scott come back up to duet with her. Cindy was fabulous, her scatting so smooth and natural, you'd think she spoke in scat! She called Shamarr Allen up at one point to guest with her and he knocked the crowd out, trading riffs with Cindy. And Leah's powerful voice and presence really puts a tune across power. Later that same day, we also caught Stephanie Jordan doing her tribute to Lena Horne with a big band -- and a guest song or two with her brother trumpeter Marlon Jordan. We also thrilled to the young and fearsomely talented Sasha Masakowski (who had both her dad and her brother on stage with her) at the Lagniappe Stage -- a small enough venue to be intimate, which we think Sasha needs to be appreciated. Her Brazilian bossa nova song really impressed us, since we often have trouble remembering English lyrics, let alone Portugese! We managed to squeeze into the back of the Gospel Tent for part of Irma Thomas's annual tribute to Mahalia Jackson and were blown away by a medley of "I Believe" and "How Great Thou Art." Big Man and I looked at each other, and we both had tears in our eyes! We also strolled down Memory Lane with the Dixie Cups, but we have to say that the Acura Stage is not the best place to enjoy them (but more on that later).
In addition to all the great women, we also caught part of James Andrews set in the Blues Tent. It was packed in there, and James was putting on a great show, very lively. (It's not his fault he's not the trumpet player his brother is, and it's almost not fair at all to compare them. If his last name wasn't Andrews, you'd be raving about him.) We also made to Congo Square for Kirk Joseph's Backyard Groove, and were surprised to find Big Man's colleague in Rénard Poché's band, Leslie Smith, onstage singing a double-entendre laced tune supposedly about food. So I guess that counts towards another great woman for the day. We relaxed in the shade and the breeze for the Swedish band, Butch Thompson, for their tribute to Jelly Roll Morton. Wow! Really brought back what a genius Jelly was, even if he did have to say so himself. By accident while catching some food, we saw a bit of the set of the totally crazy Slavic Soul Party! and they knocked us out. I don't even know how to describe them, but it was high energy and infectious in a really good way.
We ended the day with all the other aging Baby Boomers at the Beach Boys and sang along and tried not to think about how it was their *50th* Reunion. God, we're all old! was what we were thinking (and likely most of the crowd as well), but it was good stuff and we loved reliving it all. We walked back to the car singing "Be True to Your School."
Saturday, April 28. We started at Gentilly for part of Gal Holiday's set. That kind of old fashioned country-swing is not Big Man's cup of tea, but he indulged me. I thought she was great and her band was really tight. What they do may not be for everybody, but they sure are terrific at it. Then we hustled ourselves to the Economy Hall Tent for our dear friends the Paulin Brothers. When we arrived, the tent was rockin' -- almost everybody was on their feet, secondlining around the tent, waving handkerchieves and umbrellas (and I saw one of the First Church secondline umbrellas that I had decorated!). We joined in with feeling, and afterwards got sweaty hugs from Doc and his brothers as we congratulated them on a wonderful set.
After that, we went into the Grandstand for air conditioning, clean restrooms and the interview with Meschiya Lake (did you know that when she first came to town, she lived in Jelly Roll Morton's old house? or that her trumpeter is also a great keyboard player?). Then over to the Blues Tent for Luther Kent and his big band (we kept seeing Big Man's trumpet friend Barney, who apparently has like something like 20 Jazz Fest gigs). We managed to walk fast enough to catch part of Jon Cleary and the Absolute Monster Gentlemen on Acura doing their covers of Allen Toussaint tunes. (Now, there's my pick for the Jazz Fest best album!) Back across the whole racetrack to Gentilly for Amanda Shaw, who only gets cuter and more talented with every passing year. (Despite her theme song, for her, apparently pretty DOES last.) We heard part of Irvin Mayfield and NOJO's set in the Jazz tent only from the outside, because there was no way to get there, also caught part of Walter "Wolfman" Washington in the Blues Tent with several of Big Man's band mates up on stage.
Then it was over to the Lagniappe Stage for Meschiya Lake & her Little Big Horns, plus a pair of excellent swing dancers onstage with her, just like at her sets at the Spotted Cat. Just a marvelous set, and Meschiya really relaxed and happy-looking (sometimes at the Spotted Cat she hardly smiles). For some people I spoke to, this set was a real Jazz Fest moment. (A Jazz Fest moment is when something unexpected and totally wonderful, almost magical, happens. More on that later.)
We went back to Acura for Voices of the Wetlands and really enjoyed the unusual mash-up of styles and voices, what with Dr. John, Tab Benoit, Anders Osborne, Johnny V (Vidacovich), Jumpin' Johnny Sansone, Cyril Neville, and Big Chief Monk Boudreaux (in full suit). All this and concern for our wetlands too -- gotta love it.
Acura was becoming crowded after that with the folks who wanted to hear Tom Petty, but he wasn't on our list. We wanted to hear the tribute to the late great Wardell Querzergue in the Blues Tent, and my strategy was to get there early and get a great spot. So we went to the Blues Tent to hear the group before that, which was the Bobby Rush revue, and boy, did we get our socks knocked off! That's a real Jazz Fest moment, when you think you're just going to get food, or take a break from the sun in a tent, or line yourself up for an act coming on later, and instead, you are knocked for a loop by someone you never heard of!
Bobby Rush is like 79 years old -- but you'd never know it. His set was action packed, with costume changes, lots of dancing (Big Man was really envying those moves on that old guy), two extremely hot young back-up singer/dancers (who changed costumes even more times than Bobby and who had outrageous sexy figures), a tight, well-rehearsed band, and a routine that goes back to the heyday of the old black nightclubs like the Dew Drop Inn. This was a complete show -- music, dancing, enjoyable stage patter, good-hearted raunchy talk, good rocking blues singing, and terrific music. Big Man and I kept exchanging looks. Why had we never heard of this guy? He was absolutely wonderful, we'd hardly ever been so entertained, titillated, and amused. And if we hadn't had to be there for the Wardell tribute, we'd've missed it. Unbelievable.
Well, when they finally got Bobby Rush off the stage and out of the tent (he was starved apparently for audience contact, and spent a good 15 minutes, shaking hands and giving hugs all around the tent, to the chagrin of the Jazz Fest security people), they set up for the tribute. Doc Paulin, looking much more relaxed in shorts and a golf shirt was back on hand to contribute trombone to his old boss, and the stage filled with veterans of the various bands and studio ensembles Wardell had put together over the years. And then it was a joyous romp through Wardell's hits, with most of the audience singing every single lyric along with the vocalists. "Groove Me," "Trick Bag," "Barefootin'," "Big Chief" -- they ran through them all, with Wardell's son conducting. Then they brought out the Dixie Cups, who emotionally thanked Wardell for being their mentor and giving them their first big break. They went into "Chapel of Love" and a couple of others and of course ended with "Iko Iko"-- the crowd on its feet screaming and singing, and the Cups throwing personalized Dixie Cups Mardi Gras cups (I got one!!) and personalized napkins for secondlining. We realized in this setting that the Acura Stage is completely wrong for the Dixie Cups -- they need to be in the Blues Tent where they can interact with people and see us and us interact with them. They are lost up on Acura, they can't do anything with the crowd, it's all too far away. (Big Man has played Acura and says the giant crowd doesn't even make you nervous, because they're so far removed from the performers, they may as well not be there.) Jazz Fest bigwigs, take note.
It was wonderful to remember all that we have Wardell to thank for, all those songs, as a friend of mine said as we walked out of the tent when it was over, "the sound track of our childhood." Yes yes. Thank you so much, Wardell. You will live forever.
Sunday, April 29. Well, there was a decision to make about this day. You could either decide to completely ignore the fact that Bruce Springsteen was gonna close the Fest with an unprecedented 2 1/2 hour set, or you could resign yourself to what hearing The Boss would entail. We chose the latter course, although it must be admitted that this was somewhat against Big Man's judgment. We arrived in time for Trombone Shorty's set (he of the youngest subject of a Jazz Fest official poster ever) and it was great, but your pleasure in it was mitigated by the fact you couldn't extend your arms or legs in any direction and had about 3 feet as your personal space. Apparently the die-hard Bruce Springsteen fans lined up at the Jazz Fest gates *before 10 am* to snag spots and then never moved all day.
The press of the crowd got a little tighter for Dr. John's set (loved it) and by the time Bruce took the stage at about 4:35 pm or so, your personal space had shrunk to about 2.5 feet. But The Boss put on a show that was emotional, spiritual, sexy, funny, and totally rockin'. He had Dr. John come back up for one number -- clash of worlds! -- but otherwise was on stage or on the specially built runway out into the crowd for the whole time. We boogied, we laughed, we cried, we held each other, we swayed and waved our arms. It was amazing. It was worth every single bit of hassle and discomfort and reduced square footage to be there for that whole set. It was once in a lifetime -- especially for us, as Big Man says he's NEVER doing that again.
And so ended our first weekend of Jazz Fest 2012.
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