Archive for January, 2016

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Feel Like Funkin’ It Up: The Glory of the Rebirth Brass Band.

January 6, 2016
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Rebirth Brass Band, at the Maple Leaf (Image via http://www.rebirthbrassband.com)

The Rebirth Brass Band is a NOLA institution. They combine jazz, R&B, rap and funk into their own distinctive sound. I have seen Rebirth Brass Band 80 times. Rebirth took home a Grammy in 2012 for Best Regional Roots Music Album.

Rebirth are known for their sweaty Tuesday night gigs at the Maple Leaf Bar. They travel all over the world, spreading that NOLA sound.  They come back, every week, to play in the legendary music venue/dive the Maple Leaf. Rebirth have played their Leaf gig for over 25 years. Catching a Rebirth Brass Band at the Maple Leaf is like seeing a team win with home field advantage. They play with intensity, fire and passion. The shows are always packed to the maximum, everyone dancing and getting down for over two hours.

Every show Rebirth Brass Band plays is different, you never know what tunes they are going to bust out. They will often start their set with a gospel number, to get things warmed up. The classic songs will be played, but you will also get the epic jams.

Rebirth is fueled by Crown and Coke and keep the partying crowd fired up. The crowd is a diverse mix of funky locals and college kids. Everyone is united by the Rebirth Brass Band’s joyous sound. The looser the band (and crowd) gets, the funkier they play. Rebirth rarely uses a set list and leader Tuba Phil just calls out songs as they go. They have never played the same set twice. They will roll songs into each other for 30 minute jams.

Rebirth represents NOLA by throwing down hard at every show. They bring the party to the people. Even after all of these years, Rebirth still feel like funkin’ it up every week.

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Yes and No: NOLA in a Phrase.

January 5, 2016
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Gregory Davis (Image from JazzTimes.com)

My freshman year at Loyola University New Orleans, I took an introductory class to music industry studies. The course was taught by Gregory Davis, trumpet player for the legendary Dirty Dozen Brass Band. In addition to learning about the music industry, Mr. Davis inadvertently taught me a lot about the NOLA mindset.

The Dirty Dozen Brass Band skillfully blended R&B and funk into the traditional brass band sound. They pushed the sound forward since their beginnings in 1977. The modern NOLA brass band scene would not exist today if it were not for the innovative sound of the DDBB. They have also toured and collaborated with a ton of artists over the years, from Widespread Panic to the Black Crowes to Norah Jones.

Davis would often pose questions to the class. “What’s a publicist?” he would ask. “A person that promotes an artist,” someone would respond. Davis would answer in his gravelly tone, “Well, yes and no. Kinda sorta…” There was no concrete answer, there is always more to the story. “Yes and no” and “kinda sorta” were his most uttered catchphrases.

Davis would discuss the challenges of touring the world and being on the road. “Some people would say no to drugs, but some of the bands we toured with would say yes to drugs,” he told us once. “The audience would sometimes bring drugs and throw them onstage for the bands,” he stated warily.

NOLA is a city of contradictions, often swirling together, existing in a strange harmony. It is home of the drive-thru daiquiri shop, home of the high school bar. When you leave a bar, you can grab a rum and Coke to go. New Orleans is land of no last call, bars close when they want. “Are you drunk?” “Kinda sorta…” “Is this building up to code?” “Kinda sorta..Napoleonic code.” “Is the streetcar on time?” “Yes and no…Mostly no.”

There is no place like NOLA. NOLA embraces the contradictions that just wouldn’t work anywhere else. It will forever be funky and there is no “yes and no” or “kinda sorta” about that.

 

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Finding the Hipness Within.

January 5, 2016

A friend of mine told me a cautionary tale the other day. “My roommate named her cat David Bowie Waffles. She was trying way too hard,” she said. Just because you can do something, it doesn’t mean you should. You don’t have to try that hard. “At first, I thought it was Tom Hanks Pancakes. I remembered that the cat’s name is David Bowie Waffles,” she clarified.

The people I know that are actually hip often just let it flow effortlessly from themselves. They aren’t out there trying to impress, they just do what they do. You shouldn’t have to force the hipness. It sounds cliche, but being true to who you are is the hippest way you can be. Realness over everything. Being real never goes out of style.

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YJs Snackbar

David Ford is one of the hippest people I know in KC. An artist, Ford is also the owner of the legendary YJs Snack Bar. YJs is a laid back, funky spot in the Crossroads. David recently gave me a rundown about a trip to Ethiopia, “The cities featured a lot of cosmopolitan  jazz and the countryside was very rural. It was a lot of goat slaughter, 2,000 ritual goat slaughter.” It was a strange description, but had me intrigued.

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YJs

The next night, I was watching Anthony Bourdain on CNN. He was in Ethiopia, of course. He described the cosmopolitan, jazzy vibes of the cities and the ritual goat slaughter of the countryside. David Ford is a man that is ahead of the curve, constantly pushing forward. David Ford is hip because he is true to himself.

Personal hipness comes from deep within yourself. Being open to the wonder of the world around you can help make you hipper. Being present in the moment can help you tap back into the realness of yourself. No need to try too hard, just be real.

 

 

 

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Best Dance Moves of 2015: Samuel T. Herring of Future Islands.

January 3, 2016
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Samuel T. Herring, of Future Islands (Image via Flood Magazine)

Samuel T. Herring, of Future Islands, displayed some of the best dance moves I caught in 2015. It may seem overblown at times, but he really leaves it all out on the stage.

Future Islands set was one of the “whitest” performances I saw all year. Everything good and frustrating about that idea was on display during their set at the Pitchfork Music Festival. At times, the music seemed cold, distant and sterile. At other points during the set, it was invigorating and life affirming. It was a strange mix of highs and lows, sometimes within the same song.

Through it all, Herring’s dance moves kept lighting up the crowd. He dances like a man without fear. He doesn’t give a damn about looking cool and gets lost in his music. It’s a beautiful thing. Herring’s moves are a a gloriously funky, freaked out extension of himself. Keep on grooving!

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NOLA Stories: Expect the Unexpected.

January 3, 2016

I recently did a short audio piece talking about a few of the strange things I’ve seen in NOLA over the years. Check out the piece here.

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Finding Love in Today’s Indie Rock Era.

January 2, 2016
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The Missed Connections Board at the 2015 Pitchfork Music Festival.

The 2015 Pitchfork Music Festival had a Missed Connections board. Authetic indie rock love is hard to find in today’s modern age.

“I saw you standing there, looking at your feet, with your massive sunglasses on. I could feel your seething, ironic hate radiating. You remained stoic and pretended to be unimpressed during the set that was actually really good. You are so hip, you can barely see over your pelvis. You walk slanted and enchanted through life. I saw you reading a book while standing on the only chair in Union Park. In a sea of 10,000 people, while waiting for Ariel Pink to come on, you could interact with you fellow humans. No, never mind. What a great time to catch up on your reading. Do you have every Neutral Milk Hotel bootleg? Would you like more? Was your cousin in Youth Lagoon? Please text me back, using only emojis to convey your deepest feelings.”

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Mickey the Monkey.

January 2, 2016

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It was a dark fall night in uptown New Orleans. A friend of mine called me up. “Do you want to see a monkey?” he asked. There is no way you can turn down an offer like that. “It’s 10 pm on a Thursday! The zoo is closed,” I responded.

We ended up on the West Bank, at his girlfriend’s parents’ house. While chilling in the living room, out sauntered Mickey the Monkey. The family had found Mickey while on vacation in Lebanon. Mickey’s family would squeak and Mickey would squeak back at them. Clad in a diaper, Mickey would excitedly walk around the house.

We had some sushi for dinner. Mickey jumped onto my head and swiped a California roll out of my hand. It was yet another strange night in NOLA. Mickey the Monkey was not monkeying around.

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