It's hard for many people to imagine what New Orleans, NOLA as we affectionately call it, is like without ever having been here. I thought that while we are down here for Jazz Fest, playing late-night shows and eating food, I would break it down into not 5, but 6 sense perceptions of what NOLA is like for the uninitiated.
SMELL:
Bottom line, NOLA smells. Good and bad. In fact the contrast is what makes the place so dynamic to walk around. In only a few minutes one might smell alternating heavenly and loathsome wafts of fish, trash, garlic, gardenia flowers, fresh swamp water, salty sea air, sugar, coffee, more garlic and more gardenias. The food and flowers smells utterly delicious, the trash and water stagnant and repulsive.
TASTE:
Choosing from the above, one hopes to end up with only a good smelling item in the mouth at any given time and their is no shortage of morsels and meals around town. In my mind, no other place in America has the range of culinary options, minus the trendy vegan-type non-food we have in certain regions, ahem, Colorado... You can get just about anything put in your pork sausage, alligator was my choice the first day we rolled into town. My favorite is the way New Orleanians work with fruit. An old mid-city fav is blueberry-lemonade and just this morning I had a peach-strawberry muffin. Abita Purple Haze is one of the only reputable fruit-beers in the nation, appeasing even the staunchest Bud-drinkers. After Katrina, an influx of workers from Mexico has led to one fine burrito crafted on Claiborne Ave. and there is no shortage of Italian or Sushi joints either. Still, some chicory in the coffee and a cup of gumbo is just about the most New Orleans you can get in two cups.
TOUCH:
It's humid. Beyond conventional means of odor and moisture control, learning to exist in a bath of one's own perspiration is par for the course. The ground is also highly uneven (read: POTHOLES) due to the location of the city on a constantly shifting subterranean swamp. NOLA is a place of rich materials: aged wood and wrought-iron, stained glass and thick costume velvet.
SEE:
New Orleans is an international city. Europeans, Japanese, West Africans and transplants from the Caribbean all mingle in a place that certainly looks more diverse than most of the rest of the region. The flora and fauna are diverse enough to match the human population, as well. Huge oak tree branches canopy the streets, growing amongst patches of tropical flowers. The clouds move overhead at a quick pace next to the gulf, and sunsets are a fiery purple affair.
HEAR:
Sounds in New Orleans work much the same way the smell does, wafting into your ears, carried on humid swamp currents and inland ocean breeze. The city is alive with cats, dogs, cars, men and women shouting in greeting and conflict, not to mention music. While there certainly are several types of "New Orleans Music", the brass band variety being the least replicated anywhere, you can hear music from regional Louisiana, the South, New York, L.A., the Caribbean, South America and Africa en masse on Frenchman Street and Uptown. New Orleans is the main refuge, as it has always been, for musics of the African Diaspora and the highly percussive result is a musician and listeners dream, alike.
FEEL:
There is something which appeals to a sixth sense in NOLA, an energy which peels off buildings onto the sidewalk, up from cracks in the swamp just inches below the pavement. It is the soul of the Civil War and slavery and untold horror and joy played out over and over again, a production few other American cities have known in their metropolitan theaters. The force is so great, a hurricane couldn't wash it away.
And when I walk down a darkened alley, only candlelight flickering from gas lamps above shuttered French Quarter doors though a thick fog... I can feel it.
Showing posts with label New Orleans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Orleans. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 1
Monday, January 9
Why Football Matters
I read about this guy who didn't like football last week. He claims it's a brutal game which harks back to our gladiatorial times. I fully agree with his point but think it might serve him well to reassess whether that's such a bad thing. Has he been to Spain? They still fight bulls there. All they did was exchange the Roman lion for an animal which can't readily eat a human with its mouth.
I grew up playing football. My parents are both UT alumni and football was always on in the house. Come fall each year, it was time to go get weighed, fitted for pads and commit hours of each week and weekend to the game. I grew early and started out as a lineman, pushing around other early bloomers in cleats and ill-fitting football pants with the tail-bone pad sticking out above the ass in the back. Later on in high school my height dictated that I should be a receiver and defensive back. I was particularly awful at the latter, letting wideouts from North Denver burn me on out-routes I had no business covering.
But the experience taught me discipline and that we aren't made of glass, plus a little contact doesn't hurt anybody but in fact makes you stronger. One could disagree when the concussion-prone NFL is in question, more on that in a minute. Other than getting hit "over the middle", a term used to describe devastatingly unforeseen bodily damage on passing routes, by burly linebackers, the most uncomfortable feeling I can remember was on sunny yet cold days after it had snowed and iced over the night before. Getting tackled hurts. Getting tackled into the icy puddles that would form on the less than manicured soccer-cum-football fields in south Denver hurt your feelings. Your bones. The cold muddy slush covering your body under your pads for the next hours only added insult to injury. But it wasn't injury. And old coach of mine used to ask if your issue was "an owie or an injury", an important distinction for anyone who's thinking about being a cry baby at any point. "No blood, No foul", is how people insensitive to dangling limbs or internal bleeding might phrase it.
More-over than making ya' tougher, football serves a severely important social function, just like gladiator games did, but in a much shinier, glossier context where the ad space sold is as much an impetus as any to keep the hits coming.
Society isn't all candy canes and gummy bears. People have beef, social strife caused by you name it: class inequality, racial tension or just downright ignorance. People also need avenues to blow off that stress, social blow-off valves that prevent any serious violence on a broad scale. Putting your love, hate, angst or passion into a team with the name of a beast like the Lions or Bears or mythical creature like a Titan or Giant is far better than putting it into a name like the Crips or Bloods or any number of less malignant, but still corruptive groups that society gets involved with. That energy is well spent on intensely passionate, but politically pointless teams, an opiate for the masses. Soccer and Cricket serve much of the same function, worldwide.
When I lived in New Orleans for college the Saints weren't a particularly spectacular team. They actually earned the name the "Aint's" by the some of the cities more cynical, long-time residents. After Katrina, an enormous speed bump in everybody's life at the time, the team's future in NOLA was questionable as moving the franchise became a topic of discussion. When they won the Super Bowl a couple years later, people freaked. It was so symbolic to see the team that plays inside the Superdome, a veritable battle shelter during Katrina, win the big one. It symbolized a complete return to a city that care constantly forgets.
So yes, football is rough and it's great anytime the league changes a rule to prevent concussions and the like. But people are rough. People have the need to see aggression acted out one way or another, it's evolution and an impulse we've learned to put into healthy outlets, but as the sanctimonious John Elway has famously been quoted as saying recently... "Let 'em play!"
I grew up playing football. My parents are both UT alumni and football was always on in the house. Come fall each year, it was time to go get weighed, fitted for pads and commit hours of each week and weekend to the game. I grew early and started out as a lineman, pushing around other early bloomers in cleats and ill-fitting football pants with the tail-bone pad sticking out above the ass in the back. Later on in high school my height dictated that I should be a receiver and defensive back. I was particularly awful at the latter, letting wideouts from North Denver burn me on out-routes I had no business covering.
But the experience taught me discipline and that we aren't made of glass, plus a little contact doesn't hurt anybody but in fact makes you stronger. One could disagree when the concussion-prone NFL is in question, more on that in a minute. Other than getting hit "over the middle", a term used to describe devastatingly unforeseen bodily damage on passing routes, by burly linebackers, the most uncomfortable feeling I can remember was on sunny yet cold days after it had snowed and iced over the night before. Getting tackled hurts. Getting tackled into the icy puddles that would form on the less than manicured soccer-cum-football fields in south Denver hurt your feelings. Your bones. The cold muddy slush covering your body under your pads for the next hours only added insult to injury. But it wasn't injury. And old coach of mine used to ask if your issue was "an owie or an injury", an important distinction for anyone who's thinking about being a cry baby at any point. "No blood, No foul", is how people insensitive to dangling limbs or internal bleeding might phrase it.
More-over than making ya' tougher, football serves a severely important social function, just like gladiator games did, but in a much shinier, glossier context where the ad space sold is as much an impetus as any to keep the hits coming.
Society isn't all candy canes and gummy bears. People have beef, social strife caused by you name it: class inequality, racial tension or just downright ignorance. People also need avenues to blow off that stress, social blow-off valves that prevent any serious violence on a broad scale. Putting your love, hate, angst or passion into a team with the name of a beast like the Lions or Bears or mythical creature like a Titan or Giant is far better than putting it into a name like the Crips or Bloods or any number of less malignant, but still corruptive groups that society gets involved with. That energy is well spent on intensely passionate, but politically pointless teams, an opiate for the masses. Soccer and Cricket serve much of the same function, worldwide.
When I lived in New Orleans for college the Saints weren't a particularly spectacular team. They actually earned the name the "Aint's" by the some of the cities more cynical, long-time residents. After Katrina, an enormous speed bump in everybody's life at the time, the team's future in NOLA was questionable as moving the franchise became a topic of discussion. When they won the Super Bowl a couple years later, people freaked. It was so symbolic to see the team that plays inside the Superdome, a veritable battle shelter during Katrina, win the big one. It symbolized a complete return to a city that care constantly forgets.
So yes, football is rough and it's great anytime the league changes a rule to prevent concussions and the like. But people are rough. People have the need to see aggression acted out one way or another, it's evolution and an impulse we've learned to put into healthy outlets, but as the sanctimonious John Elway has famously been quoted as saying recently... "Let 'em play!"
Saturday, March 5
a note from the plane
Wanted to post this morning, sitting on the tarmac at DIA. Frogs played the last two nights in Vail and scurried home to Denver for an hour, just long enough to shower and head to the airport. Life is crazy right now, to say the least. After playing the Maple Leaf tomorrow night, we'll cruise around New Orleans, enjoying a much needed psuedo-vacation. Returning from NOLA on Fat Tuesday will hardly be the end of what we are calling "Marchdi Gras". Our amazing, multi-purpose road homie, Double A, will pick us up where he dropped us off just days before, for the trip back to the valley for CarniVail, playing to a blocked off street of 500 people or so. The next day I turn 25 and we open for the Dirty Dozen Brass Band. Later in the month we team up with heavy-hittin' Ivan Neville and his Dumpstaphunk. I'm blessed to have so many friends and fans across the country and I cannot wait for this plane to take us to New Orleans, my home away from home. Thanks to everyone who supports me in this entrepreneurial, oftentimes stressful and hectic, job. Happy Mardi Gras!
*forgive all spelling and grammar errors as this was composed via blackberry on flight 1222, with a southwest stewardess breathing down my neck...
*forgive all spelling and grammar errors as this was composed via blackberry on flight 1222, with a southwest stewardess breathing down my neck...
Wednesday, June 2
Oil Spill
I can't really fathom the oil spill. For several reasons, I can't wrap my mind around it. I think part of that is some sort of emotional response my immune system impinges on me to keep my literal cranium from exploding into a fine pink, brain-colored mist, or from flying over to BP headquarters in jolly-old and raising the issue personally.
Part of it is not being able to comprehend the literal physics and physical size of the disaster. I understand that a methane pocket caused the Deepwater Horizon to explode and sink and that there have been half a dozen methods to stop the poisonous sludge from gushing into our ocean waters. By far the worst part of this disaster were the hard working guys who perished as generators and rigging exploded around them like the materialization of hell itself.
The ocean and its immensity have always frightened me on a primal level. Have you ever looked at a ship-wreck in dim, under-water light while scuba diving and not had the immediate urge to be topside? Throw in some barracuda and I'm officially soiling my wet suit during my hasty ascent. Not to mention we haven't explored more than about five percent of the ocean, one percent when talking about the sea floor itself (where I hear only the most terrible sea monsters prefer to spend their days). The National Ocean Service says that the vast majority of the ocean is dark, no light can penetrate below 3,000 feet. Dark AND unknown? No thanks.
The ocean's getting even darker, with oil. It's all I can think about, trying to comprehend how it happened, and more importantly, how the hell it will be stopped before the August relief-well dig completion. The worst part? There is not much I can do sitting here, high in the rockies, except send hair clippings for oil-absorbent buoys (done the day after I got my customary post-tour hair cut).
This sense of helplessness led to great satisfaction when I read this morning that the feds will be investigating both civil and criminal cases against BP. And while we are talking about the current administration (isn't this a music blog?) I'd like to say, unabashedly, that Obama is doing a good job. He's pragmatic, responsive, doesn't make America sound like a bunch of red-necks, and has pushed legislation through which will make Americans healthier and prevent bankers from getting too much wealthier. Bush sat on his ass while domestic issues like Katrina ate at the soul of our country, while lying to the public on the premise of starting wars of aggression, a war which has gone on to be the longest engagement in our history, unless you count the pointless, counterproductive money waste we call the "war on drugs".
As it turns out, nature herself might be the saving grace of this whole situation. While BP rejects inventors and scientists, the ideas of those who've known something like this was going to happen and put their dollars into stopping it, there is a multitude of thought and innovation being put into how to fix this. You can find it all over YouTube. But the real fix might be nature's built-in protections against oil which is, after all a naturally occuring substance itself. Scientists say plant-matter can recover from one good oiling, although the second or third will kill it off. Microscopic organisms in the ocean can eat oil particles. Warm sea water facilitates the evaporation of the oil off the surface.
In the interim BP needs to stop using environmentally harmful dispersants, keep the oil off the coastline and let nature do what she does with the thousands of naturally occurring oil leaks on the seabed floor all over the world.
If it is found that BP management was criminally negligent in their safety precautions, precautions protecting the very world which allows them to breath air, taste their caviar or feel the wind in their hair while riding in the Rolls, all while blindly preparing to decimate a region already embattled with nature, then heads should roll as an example that the Earth, our Mother, is not to be fucked with.
Part of it is not being able to comprehend the literal physics and physical size of the disaster. I understand that a methane pocket caused the Deepwater Horizon to explode and sink and that there have been half a dozen methods to stop the poisonous sludge from gushing into our ocean waters. By far the worst part of this disaster were the hard working guys who perished as generators and rigging exploded around them like the materialization of hell itself.
The ocean and its immensity have always frightened me on a primal level. Have you ever looked at a ship-wreck in dim, under-water light while scuba diving and not had the immediate urge to be topside? Throw in some barracuda and I'm officially soiling my wet suit during my hasty ascent. Not to mention we haven't explored more than about five percent of the ocean, one percent when talking about the sea floor itself (where I hear only the most terrible sea monsters prefer to spend their days). The National Ocean Service says that the vast majority of the ocean is dark, no light can penetrate below 3,000 feet. Dark AND unknown? No thanks.
The ocean's getting even darker, with oil. It's all I can think about, trying to comprehend how it happened, and more importantly, how the hell it will be stopped before the August relief-well dig completion. The worst part? There is not much I can do sitting here, high in the rockies, except send hair clippings for oil-absorbent buoys (done the day after I got my customary post-tour hair cut).
This sense of helplessness led to great satisfaction when I read this morning that the feds will be investigating both civil and criminal cases against BP. And while we are talking about the current administration (isn't this a music blog?) I'd like to say, unabashedly, that Obama is doing a good job. He's pragmatic, responsive, doesn't make America sound like a bunch of red-necks, and has pushed legislation through which will make Americans healthier and prevent bankers from getting too much wealthier. Bush sat on his ass while domestic issues like Katrina ate at the soul of our country, while lying to the public on the premise of starting wars of aggression, a war which has gone on to be the longest engagement in our history, unless you count the pointless, counterproductive money waste we call the "war on drugs".
As it turns out, nature herself might be the saving grace of this whole situation. While BP rejects inventors and scientists, the ideas of those who've known something like this was going to happen and put their dollars into stopping it, there is a multitude of thought and innovation being put into how to fix this. You can find it all over YouTube. But the real fix might be nature's built-in protections against oil which is, after all a naturally occuring substance itself. Scientists say plant-matter can recover from one good oiling, although the second or third will kill it off. Microscopic organisms in the ocean can eat oil particles. Warm sea water facilitates the evaporation of the oil off the surface.
In the interim BP needs to stop using environmentally harmful dispersants, keep the oil off the coastline and let nature do what she does with the thousands of naturally occurring oil leaks on the seabed floor all over the world.
If it is found that BP management was criminally negligent in their safety precautions, precautions protecting the very world which allows them to breath air, taste their caviar or feel the wind in their hair while riding in the Rolls, all while blindly preparing to decimate a region already embattled with nature, then heads should roll as an example that the Earth, our Mother, is not to be fucked with.
Tuesday, November 3
On The Road Again
Well not really... the proverbial blogging road, maybe. The point is I now, thankfully, have enough time to do what I really love to do: write, write music, and in general have the time to do what all artists need to do to succeed, namely taking the time to observe the world and enjoy diverse experiences, experiences which are interpreted again later, in the form of relevant art output.
If anything, that is what the last year since graduating college has taught me. The more I try different jobs, whether running an independent promotion company, competing in the ferocious music industry jungle or working with special-needs children at an elementary school, the more I realize that I just want to be an artist, a musician who spends the majority of his time on music, not hoping that one day my part-time focus, music, will somehow overtake other jobs with more money and security. IF YOU WANT MUSIC TO BE YOUR FULL-TIME JOB, IT HAS TO BE YOUR FULL TIME JOB.
Creating, organizing, running, and executing a promotion company and its associated festival, Mountainside Mardi Gras at Red Rocks Amphitheatre, was one of the most intense experiences of my life. The pressure, risk/reward and fickle nature of the music industry makes it one of the most unpredictable industries in the world. Mountainside Mardi Gras took place on Aug. 8th, 2009 and the outcome of all our hard work and vision can be seen in multiple lights. On one had, 1,500 people showed up that day. That's a lot of people. But not nearly enough for us to have broken even and kept For/Sure Productions afloat.
Sometimes every fiber in my body tells me to find capital, refinance the company, have another go. I'm sure it'll happen at some point in the future, but I am just now, four months after the fact, understanding the impact and implications of what we did that day at Red Rocks. For me personally, the concert had many benefits which ultimately outweighed the ocean-sized financial bath FSP endured in August. We brought enough artists from NOLA to CO at one time to make residents of New Orleans wonder if all the musicians in town had just packed up and left for good. I had the amazing opportunity of playing alongside the world-renowned Dirty Dozen Brass Band and my good friends CR Gruver (Polytoxic, Outformation) and DJ Logic, spinning on the other side of the stage. If in the past you told me I would play music onstage at Red Rocks at the age of 23, I might have slapped you silly, right across your mouth.
And so there I was, a young entrepreneur with respect and love from the musical communities in Denver and New Orleans and that much richer... in contacts and networking, certainly not in money. I was disgruntled with the outcome of the festival, although the vast majority of festivals around the world lose money in their first year. Shortly after, Frogs Gone Fishin's first record deal with Oh/Ya Records dissolved, before we could secure financing for a second album.
Losing the deal with Oh/Ya seemed to be a fatal blow to the band. Without money to make a new record, everything started to seem redundant because no new music, fresh material, could be presented to our fans. Frogs canceled tour to the Northwest, an area I was particularly excited about absorbing. I moved deep into the mountains, 2.5 hours from Denver to a tiny town called Gypsum and actually employed my college degree in a productive way by getting a job teaching Special Ed at an elementary school. I wanted to get away from Denver, a city which we are just now starting to break, as Frogs. I moved in with a Buddhist songwriter and his family and worked hard from 7 in the morning t0 3pm, every day. This became exhausting. After Frogs would finish a show at 2am in Denver or Boulder, I would proceed to drive, tired, back up the mountain for two and a half hours, before getting up mere hours later to go work with kids.
It goes without saying that working with cognitive-needs children is challenging. I'm going to write a separate post about this altogether because the amount you pick-up and learn as their advocate is impressive and wondrous, while conflicting factors outside of the school can make the job impossible, to say the least.
Just when I was positive I was going to perish on the roadside from exhaustion by driving the 200 miles between Gypsum and Denver in the middle of the night, every other night or so, a miracle happened for Frogs Gone Fishin'. Our friend and adept producer at Evergroove Studio, Brad Smalling announced that he and an attorney wished to start a record label and sign FGF as their only flagship act. This divine act set into motion the wheels of a new album and a tour in the Spring, reversing the gloom that had settled in early Fall.
Another great relationship has developed between Frogs and movie maker Travis Milloy, whose recent picture, Pandorum, hit theatres a couple weeks ago. He will be shooting a music video for Frogs, starting this weekend on Saturday at Finnigan's Wake in Avon, CO. Incidentally our largest fan base, by far, is in the High Rockies, Vail and the surrounding area (Avon, Edwards, Eagle). Given the opportunity for great recreation in a beautiful landscape setting, we're not complaining. Ski season is upon us, after all.
Frogs couldn't be more excited to release a follow-up to Tell Me True in the first part of the new year and get on the road again to 14 states in two months. Tour is a part of my life which I cannot deny; it calls me from down South to hop in the TOURMOBILE and get after it.
I'm working on a number of other projects, the most exciting of which is the opportunity to compose the soundtrack to a monster movie being filmed in CO next year.
Remember to wear sunscreen and stay hydrated people, we'll see you out there on the road...
If anything, that is what the last year since graduating college has taught me. The more I try different jobs, whether running an independent promotion company, competing in the ferocious music industry jungle or working with special-needs children at an elementary school, the more I realize that I just want to be an artist, a musician who spends the majority of his time on music, not hoping that one day my part-time focus, music, will somehow overtake other jobs with more money and security. IF YOU WANT MUSIC TO BE YOUR FULL-TIME JOB, IT HAS TO BE YOUR FULL TIME JOB.
Creating, organizing, running, and executing a promotion company and its associated festival, Mountainside Mardi Gras at Red Rocks Amphitheatre, was one of the most intense experiences of my life. The pressure, risk/reward and fickle nature of the music industry makes it one of the most unpredictable industries in the world. Mountainside Mardi Gras took place on Aug. 8th, 2009 and the outcome of all our hard work and vision can be seen in multiple lights. On one had, 1,500 people showed up that day. That's a lot of people. But not nearly enough for us to have broken even and kept For/Sure Productions afloat.
Sometimes every fiber in my body tells me to find capital, refinance the company, have another go. I'm sure it'll happen at some point in the future, but I am just now, four months after the fact, understanding the impact and implications of what we did that day at Red Rocks. For me personally, the concert had many benefits which ultimately outweighed the ocean-sized financial bath FSP endured in August. We brought enough artists from NOLA to CO at one time to make residents of New Orleans wonder if all the musicians in town had just packed up and left for good. I had the amazing opportunity of playing alongside the world-renowned Dirty Dozen Brass Band and my good friends CR Gruver (Polytoxic, Outformation) and DJ Logic, spinning on the other side of the stage. If in the past you told me I would play music onstage at Red Rocks at the age of 23, I might have slapped you silly, right across your mouth.
And so there I was, a young entrepreneur with respect and love from the musical communities in Denver and New Orleans and that much richer... in contacts and networking, certainly not in money. I was disgruntled with the outcome of the festival, although the vast majority of festivals around the world lose money in their first year. Shortly after, Frogs Gone Fishin's first record deal with Oh/Ya Records dissolved, before we could secure financing for a second album.
Losing the deal with Oh/Ya seemed to be a fatal blow to the band. Without money to make a new record, everything started to seem redundant because no new music, fresh material, could be presented to our fans. Frogs canceled tour to the Northwest, an area I was particularly excited about absorbing. I moved deep into the mountains, 2.5 hours from Denver to a tiny town called Gypsum and actually employed my college degree in a productive way by getting a job teaching Special Ed at an elementary school. I wanted to get away from Denver, a city which we are just now starting to break, as Frogs. I moved in with a Buddhist songwriter and his family and worked hard from 7 in the morning t0 3pm, every day. This became exhausting. After Frogs would finish a show at 2am in Denver or Boulder, I would proceed to drive, tired, back up the mountain for two and a half hours, before getting up mere hours later to go work with kids.
It goes without saying that working with cognitive-needs children is challenging. I'm going to write a separate post about this altogether because the amount you pick-up and learn as their advocate is impressive and wondrous, while conflicting factors outside of the school can make the job impossible, to say the least.
Just when I was positive I was going to perish on the roadside from exhaustion by driving the 200 miles between Gypsum and Denver in the middle of the night, every other night or so, a miracle happened for Frogs Gone Fishin'. Our friend and adept producer at Evergroove Studio, Brad Smalling announced that he and an attorney wished to start a record label and sign FGF as their only flagship act. This divine act set into motion the wheels of a new album and a tour in the Spring, reversing the gloom that had settled in early Fall.
Another great relationship has developed between Frogs and movie maker Travis Milloy, whose recent picture, Pandorum, hit theatres a couple weeks ago. He will be shooting a music video for Frogs, starting this weekend on Saturday at Finnigan's Wake in Avon, CO. Incidentally our largest fan base, by far, is in the High Rockies, Vail and the surrounding area (Avon, Edwards, Eagle). Given the opportunity for great recreation in a beautiful landscape setting, we're not complaining. Ski season is upon us, after all.
Frogs couldn't be more excited to release a follow-up to Tell Me True in the first part of the new year and get on the road again to 14 states in two months. Tour is a part of my life which I cannot deny; it calls me from down South to hop in the TOURMOBILE and get after it.
I'm working on a number of other projects, the most exciting of which is the opportunity to compose the soundtrack to a monster movie being filmed in CO next year.
Remember to wear sunscreen and stay hydrated people, we'll see you out there on the road...
Wednesday, May 6
New Job
I'll be taking a short break from blogging this month to write the "On The One" column about music for neworleans.com.
I have the pleasure of sitting-in for my good friend and tremendous musician, Kevin O'Day.
I know you're scared. "Where will I find out about life on the road, live music, the state of the industry and Frogs Gone Fishin'/Mountainside Mardi Gras, all without TrevorJonesMusic???".
Hey. Don't worry. I'll be back.
In the meantime, jump over to NEWORLEANS.COM and check out my articles, it should be a good way to stay focused on writing for the month of May.
thanks for reading!!!
-Trevor
I have the pleasure of sitting-in for my good friend and tremendous musician, Kevin O'Day.
I know you're scared. "Where will I find out about life on the road, live music, the state of the industry and Frogs Gone Fishin'/Mountainside Mardi Gras, all without TrevorJonesMusic???".
Hey. Don't worry. I'll be back.
In the meantime, jump over to NEWORLEANS.COM and check out my articles, it should be a good way to stay focused on writing for the month of May.
thanks for reading!!!
-Trevor
Thursday, April 30
Jazz Fest in New Orleans
The New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival is carrying out its 40th year of existence with two full weekends of every type of music imaginable. Throngs of music lovers from all over the world descend on the racetrack fairgrounds in New Orleans, the type of mass economic spending (think Mardi Gras) the city needs in order to continue to rebuild itself.
I don't even go to the fairgrounds to check it out.
Along with throngs of music lovers come throngs of world-class musicians; some make Jazz Fest their one and only yearly migration to New Orleans for a week of sitting-in and scene-making.
The scene doesn't happen during daylight hours at the Fest. The night time is the right time in general down here, an amplified early morning crowd gathers in multiple locations, Uptown and Downtown.
I would never present Jazz Fest as something other than the most incredible union of tradition and talent, gastronomy and every musical taxonomy. Even on rainy days at the fairgrounds, muddy waves lapping at your feet, the tangible sense of life-celebration is everywhere.
But for whatever reason... actually I can think of a couple... the night time is the right time. Searing sweaty jam sessions burn, all over the city, until dawn. Close your eyes and you're in Milton's Playhouse, circa 1941. Before bars closed at 2am, before sitting-in was an antiquated quest, when the night time was the right time, as it is now, the time for music, mojo, juju or whatever you call the deep bayou Delta energy.
I don't even go to the fairgrounds to check it out.
Along with throngs of music lovers come throngs of world-class musicians; some make Jazz Fest their one and only yearly migration to New Orleans for a week of sitting-in and scene-making.
The scene doesn't happen during daylight hours at the Fest. The night time is the right time in general down here, an amplified early morning crowd gathers in multiple locations, Uptown and Downtown.
I would never present Jazz Fest as something other than the most incredible union of tradition and talent, gastronomy and every musical taxonomy. Even on rainy days at the fairgrounds, muddy waves lapping at your feet, the tangible sense of life-celebration is everywhere.
But for whatever reason... actually I can think of a couple... the night time is the right time. Searing sweaty jam sessions burn, all over the city, until dawn. Close your eyes and you're in Milton's Playhouse, circa 1941. Before bars closed at 2am, before sitting-in was an antiquated quest, when the night time was the right time, as it is now, the time for music, mojo, juju or whatever you call the deep bayou Delta energy.
In New Orleans
You sweat when you sleep, you sweat when you dance.
So put on those dancin' pants and
Keep your head.
It must be said.
New Orleans can sleep when it's dead.
-Trevor Jones 4/30/09
You sweat when you sleep, you sweat when you dance.
So put on those dancin' pants and
Keep your head.
It must be said.
New Orleans can sleep when it's dead.
-Trevor Jones 4/30/09
Tuesday, April 21
NewOrleans.com Article
Kevin O'Day and his awesome team over at neworleans.com were nice enough to publish an article I wrote called "Why New Orleans will beat the record industry". Check it out!
Friday, March 27
NOLA Press, New Projects
World-class drummer and music editor for NewOrleans.com, Kevin O'Day, graced us with his presence in our living room the other day to talk about our move to NOLA and future plans. Check out the awesome article here.
Otherwise, I've started a side-project called the TJ Gospel Project to play some gospel, blues and soul tunes. The band will include my pedal-steel playing friend Ed Williams, gospel drummer Mike Davis, and Frogs bassist Steve Rogers. Our debut gig will be APRIL 16th at Carrollton Station in New Orleans so please come out and support this new, soulful project!
Frogs Gone Fishin' is busier than I can describe with language right now, but please check for our New Orleans, Tennessee and late-nite JAZZFEST (!) dates.
Here's a picture of me having a blast, or trying to catch a raindrop in my mouth, while sitting in with Papa Grows Funk the other night:
Otherwise, I've started a side-project called the TJ Gospel Project to play some gospel, blues and soul tunes. The band will include my pedal-steel playing friend Ed Williams, gospel drummer Mike Davis, and Frogs bassist Steve Rogers. Our debut gig will be APRIL 16th at Carrollton Station in New Orleans so please come out and support this new, soulful project!
Frogs Gone Fishin' is busier than I can describe with language right now, but please check for our New Orleans, Tennessee and late-nite JAZZFEST (!) dates.
Here's a picture of me having a blast, or trying to catch a raindrop in my mouth, while sitting in with Papa Grows Funk the other night:
Friday, March 6
NOLA Progress
It seems the Frogs are settling down into the deep rhythm of New Orleans life and enjoying all the city has to offer. We've been eating good food and seeing even better music almost every night. If one knows where to go Uptown on the right night, the networking possibilities are varied and highly beneficial to artists of all breeds. It seems all of New Orleans found out about Mountainside Mardi Gras at once this week and my voice-mail has been inundated with calls from artists, managers and other potential helpers and hangers-on.
Frogs Gone Fishin' has managed to improve our gig count and will be playing at Tulane University and Banks Street Bar among other places. Our hip-hop counterparts Soul Capital are opening for Lupe Fiasco next week and have tentatively asked us to be their backing band.
It's clear progress is being made on both the playing and promoting side of things which in turn, opens up around five minutes in my schedule for pondering the deeper issues of this new scene which we are now immersed in. A quick glance around Uptown and things seem to bustle and flow along in the crescent city. A broader look, and New Orleans still has a long road to travel.
Part of the issue with understanding the so-called "rebirth" of New Orleans comes with the perception that immediately before Katrina, New Orleans was a shiny beacon of a city. New Orleans had problems including one of the highest murder rates in the nation in the late- 90's. No one has ever said the crumbling roads and deteriorating houses weren't a part of everyday NOLA life before Katrina.
Katrina did destroy some specific parts of the city and the lower 9th ward is still largely a wasteland. My point is that New Orleans exists in a natural state of decay and to cite Katrina as a sole contributor of destruction that now requires a "rebirth" is to deny the city's overall history and current-day vibe. And as the wetlands encroach and the city sinks even further below sea level, the population's spirit here is strong, not in "rebirth", but strong as it has been through all the other problems New Orleans has endured. The struggle of the black man here is as hard as in any large American city and two recent stories illustrate my point.
Last week a black man was gang-beaten by police after he "attempted" to fire a 9mm handgun in their direction and the gun "wouldn't fire". I don't know if you've ever fired a handgun, I have. I recommend doing so, safely at a firing range, before forming an opinion about policy on the subject. Handguns on the streets of America are some of the most reliable machines of the planet, according to a police officer I know. Defensereview.com says of the standard Glock: "I must have fired over 1,000 rounds through it without any kind of malfunction. It fed every kind of bullet, every time". The magistrate posted a $300,000 bail for the man.
Secondly, there is a benefit concert tonight for a famous sousaphone player who started an even more famous brass band in 1977(!), a band that still plays today. Over the past year he's had heart problems and there have been various benefit concerts in his name. Tonight's concert is not for that reason, not because he has passed on, but because police apparently pulled him off-stage during a gig last week for not paying child support.
I would never say pointing a gun at police or neglecting child support is OK. But, the way police and the government in general treat the population here is oftentimes surprising.
Although NOLA might be in a state of decay, this is not a bad trajectory by any means. All things are in a state of decay. Decay means "to break down". When musicians say "break it down" the band cuts to bass and drums. In this there is rebirth, stripping off the busy layers to a more simple way of doing things.
Until New Orleans and Louisiana can strip off the old way of doing things, there will be no rebirth. The Obama administration also needs to pay special attention to the Gulf Coast, a region which was ignored by fact or de facto, during the Bush years. We started bombing Iraq the year before I went to college in New Orleans and three years before I was to evacuate New Orleans for Katrina. I still get very angry and emotional when I see bumper stickers that say "Make Levees, Not War". This is where I insert a cliche comment about how valuable the Gulf Coast is to our nation's culture and resources. Beyond the fact that you probably went to elementary school and/or have heard of this little thing, the "Louisiana Purchase", I won't tell you about New Orleans because I want you to come here and find out for yourself.
The musicians here (I'm one of them now) depend on tourism to pad the city's devoted music fanship attending the world-class clubs, Uptown and Downtown. I just realized by no premeditation that my last post ended with a solicitation for visitors to New Orleans. It's by no accident I end up talking about how everyone should come visit. Plus, we have a sweet futon you can stay on.
Frogs Gone Fishin' has managed to improve our gig count and will be playing at Tulane University and Banks Street Bar among other places. Our hip-hop counterparts Soul Capital are opening for Lupe Fiasco next week and have tentatively asked us to be their backing band.
It's clear progress is being made on both the playing and promoting side of things which in turn, opens up around five minutes in my schedule for pondering the deeper issues of this new scene which we are now immersed in. A quick glance around Uptown and things seem to bustle and flow along in the crescent city. A broader look, and New Orleans still has a long road to travel.
Part of the issue with understanding the so-called "rebirth" of New Orleans comes with the perception that immediately before Katrina, New Orleans was a shiny beacon of a city. New Orleans had problems including one of the highest murder rates in the nation in the late- 90's. No one has ever said the crumbling roads and deteriorating houses weren't a part of everyday NOLA life before Katrina.
Katrina did destroy some specific parts of the city and the lower 9th ward is still largely a wasteland. My point is that New Orleans exists in a natural state of decay and to cite Katrina as a sole contributor of destruction that now requires a "rebirth" is to deny the city's overall history and current-day vibe. And as the wetlands encroach and the city sinks even further below sea level, the population's spirit here is strong, not in "rebirth", but strong as it has been through all the other problems New Orleans has endured. The struggle of the black man here is as hard as in any large American city and two recent stories illustrate my point.
Last week a black man was gang-beaten by police after he "attempted" to fire a 9mm handgun in their direction and the gun "wouldn't fire". I don't know if you've ever fired a handgun, I have. I recommend doing so, safely at a firing range, before forming an opinion about policy on the subject. Handguns on the streets of America are some of the most reliable machines of the planet, according to a police officer I know. Defensereview.com says of the standard Glock: "I must have fired over 1,000 rounds through it without any kind of malfunction. It fed every kind of bullet, every time". The magistrate posted a $300,000 bail for the man.
Secondly, there is a benefit concert tonight for a famous sousaphone player who started an even more famous brass band in 1977(!), a band that still plays today. Over the past year he's had heart problems and there have been various benefit concerts in his name. Tonight's concert is not for that reason, not because he has passed on, but because police apparently pulled him off-stage during a gig last week for not paying child support.
I would never say pointing a gun at police or neglecting child support is OK. But, the way police and the government in general treat the population here is oftentimes surprising.
Although NOLA might be in a state of decay, this is not a bad trajectory by any means. All things are in a state of decay. Decay means "to break down". When musicians say "break it down" the band cuts to bass and drums. In this there is rebirth, stripping off the busy layers to a more simple way of doing things.
Until New Orleans and Louisiana can strip off the old way of doing things, there will be no rebirth. The Obama administration also needs to pay special attention to the Gulf Coast, a region which was ignored by fact or de facto, during the Bush years. We started bombing Iraq the year before I went to college in New Orleans and three years before I was to evacuate New Orleans for Katrina. I still get very angry and emotional when I see bumper stickers that say "Make Levees, Not War". This is where I insert a cliche comment about how valuable the Gulf Coast is to our nation's culture and resources. Beyond the fact that you probably went to elementary school and/or have heard of this little thing, the "Louisiana Purchase", I won't tell you about New Orleans because I want you to come here and find out for yourself.
The musicians here (I'm one of them now) depend on tourism to pad the city's devoted music fanship attending the world-class clubs, Uptown and Downtown. I just realized by no premeditation that my last post ended with a solicitation for visitors to New Orleans. It's by no accident I end up talking about how everyone should come visit. Plus, we have a sweet futon you can stay on.
Wednesday, February 25
Post Mardi Gras Post
New Orleans wakes up in a haze this morning, dazed from an entire weekend of beads, booze and revelry.
I had a fantastic weekend this Mardi Gras, musically speaking. Frogs Gone Fishin' closed (that's right, closed) for Russell Batiste and Friends, friends who included Jason Neville and George Porter Jr. You can check out an awesome video of the Frogs performance that night here.
I danced all night to the Radiators at MOM'S BALL, an exclusive all-night concert in a warehouse across the Mississippi River. Monday night we repeated the all-night strategy at Galactic where I was let backstage by my friend Trombone Shorty.
Backstage at Tipitina's is possibly the best location for musical networking in the world at any given time. After speaking with a sax player from Dave Matthews Band and keyboard player from The Greyboy All-Stars, I spoke with all the guys from Galactic and was invited to sit-in in a couple weeks with their side project.
Somewhat starstruck, we emerged from Tipitina's at 6 am to find that there were no more stars and a warm Mardi Gras day morning and the raucous Zulu parade had enveloped the city. I stumbled home, slept the day away yesterday and am ready to get back to business. The music business.
That's why today, I'm announcing a shift in the focus of my blog. Due to suggestions from people I value in the industry and the fact that my daily life is about as interesting as mud in the Mississippi, I'll try to focus on broader issues in the music business. You can always find out what's going on with Frogs Gone Fishin' at our website, and if I encounter an experience which warrants larger analysis, I will certainly write about it.
I'll be posting less, but hopefully more in depth. While in NOLA I want to buckle down and write some fulfilling music and stop worrying as much about tour and the absurd social implications of traveling constantly. Negotiating my relationships (social or business) is getting exhausting and I feel I need to take a step back, before taking the huge step forward that will be our return to Colorado and ultimately, the execution of Mountainside Mardi Gras in the summer.
I had a fantastic weekend this Mardi Gras, musically speaking. Frogs Gone Fishin' closed (that's right, closed) for Russell Batiste and Friends, friends who included Jason Neville and George Porter Jr. You can check out an awesome video of the Frogs performance that night here.
I danced all night to the Radiators at MOM'S BALL, an exclusive all-night concert in a warehouse across the Mississippi River. Monday night we repeated the all-night strategy at Galactic where I was let backstage by my friend Trombone Shorty.
Backstage at Tipitina's is possibly the best location for musical networking in the world at any given time. After speaking with a sax player from Dave Matthews Band and keyboard player from The Greyboy All-Stars, I spoke with all the guys from Galactic and was invited to sit-in in a couple weeks with their side project.
Somewhat starstruck, we emerged from Tipitina's at 6 am to find that there were no more stars and a warm Mardi Gras day morning and the raucous Zulu parade had enveloped the city. I stumbled home, slept the day away yesterday and am ready to get back to business. The music business.
That's why today, I'm announcing a shift in the focus of my blog. Due to suggestions from people I value in the industry and the fact that my daily life is about as interesting as mud in the Mississippi, I'll try to focus on broader issues in the music business. You can always find out what's going on with Frogs Gone Fishin' at our website, and if I encounter an experience which warrants larger analysis, I will certainly write about it.
I'll be posting less, but hopefully more in depth. While in NOLA I want to buckle down and write some fulfilling music and stop worrying as much about tour and the absurd social implications of traveling constantly. Negotiating my relationships (social or business) is getting exhausting and I feel I need to take a step back, before taking the huge step forward that will be our return to Colorado and ultimately, the execution of Mountainside Mardi Gras in the summer.
Tuesday, February 17
Mardi Gras
Today I find myself in Nashville, once again, due to a gig cancellation and the desire to spend some time with family in Austin while the band moved down the road to Houston. Flying to Nashville to catch a ride to NOLA with friends proved to be the cheapest option for my ever tightening musician's budget.
Our horn section in the South, The Horny Toads, will be joining us on Friday in New Orleans for Mardi Gras, as well. They will add that extra kick to a couple tunes as we open up for the ubiquitously funky Russell Batiste (Funky Meters) and George Porter Jr. (Meters).
Although our gig scheduled for Thursday was canceled, we can now arrive in New Orleans mid-week and begin promoting what should be one of the most fun shows we've ever played.
Friday is not only our debut in New Orleans as new residents, but the unofficial weekend-start to Mardi Gras. For those of you who don't know what Mardi Gras is, come out the cave! What we have here is the best party in America, one that is fun for all-ages despite the traditional boobs-for-beads stereotype which prevails.
Sure, debauchery is a key word when talking about Mardi Gras. The wider implications for the city of New Orleans however, should silence any moral judgments about who Mardi Gras is "good for". Mardi Gras is not good, but great for all New Orleanians. Not because they receive four dedicated days for drinking (they drink when they want, anyway), but because of the economic impact and publicity which New Orleans desperately needs.
Beyond infusing cash into the city and bringing in tourists from around the world, Mardi Gras also resets the city-clock of NOLA. After Mardi Gras, things halt to a standstill. Over the course of the year, beginning with Jazzfest in May, the city begins to bloom, then flourish, then overtake itself with revelry in time for next year's Gras.
In light of the fact that we have several dozen bodies who plan on crashing at our newly acquired house in New Orleans, I say, the more the merrier. So grab a drive-thru daquiri, come on Uptown, and check out the best party in America.
Our horn section in the South, The Horny Toads, will be joining us on Friday in New Orleans for Mardi Gras, as well. They will add that extra kick to a couple tunes as we open up for the ubiquitously funky Russell Batiste (Funky Meters) and George Porter Jr. (Meters).
Although our gig scheduled for Thursday was canceled, we can now arrive in New Orleans mid-week and begin promoting what should be one of the most fun shows we've ever played.
Friday is not only our debut in New Orleans as new residents, but the unofficial weekend-start to Mardi Gras. For those of you who don't know what Mardi Gras is, come out the cave! What we have here is the best party in America, one that is fun for all-ages despite the traditional boobs-for-beads stereotype which prevails.
Sure, debauchery is a key word when talking about Mardi Gras. The wider implications for the city of New Orleans however, should silence any moral judgments about who Mardi Gras is "good for". Mardi Gras is not good, but great for all New Orleanians. Not because they receive four dedicated days for drinking (they drink when they want, anyway), but because of the economic impact and publicity which New Orleans desperately needs.
Beyond infusing cash into the city and bringing in tourists from around the world, Mardi Gras also resets the city-clock of NOLA. After Mardi Gras, things halt to a standstill. Over the course of the year, beginning with Jazzfest in May, the city begins to bloom, then flourish, then overtake itself with revelry in time for next year's Gras.
In light of the fact that we have several dozen bodies who plan on crashing at our newly acquired house in New Orleans, I say, the more the merrier. So grab a drive-thru daquiri, come on Uptown, and check out the best party in America.
Wednesday, February 4
Big Moves
Frogs Gone Fishin' leaves on a three month journey today: two weeks of tour followed by a springtime residence in my favorite city in the world, New Orleans. It will still be very much a journey living in New Orleans, even after establishing ourselves in (yet another) 3-month sub-lease. Making a living playing music in New Orleans will be slightly different than in our favorite state in the world, Colorado. Gigs have been plentiful in the mountains and the front-range area where clubs are not necessarily saturated with live talent year-round like clubs in New Orleans are.
Club owners in NOLA are particularly opposed to technology it seems, oftentimes rejecting the internet and even voice-mail as means of booking acts, leaving you the sole option of patronizing the club over and over until contact with the elusive owner has been made.
That said, certain elements of the New Orleans music scene are much more accessible to the average musician. For example, I've opened for artists like Rebirth Brass Band, Talib Kweli and Juvenile in NOLA, whereas we struggle to find opening spots in Denver, due in large part to the fact that many major artists who come to Denver are controlled by large corporate entities ie; Live Nation (more on some big moves there in a bit). It is the accessibility to bigger acts and better musicians that makes NOLA an attractive place to spend our spring. We love the Denver/Boulder/Mountain region and plan to return, but the funky knowledge we will gain, just by inhaling the swampy musical molecules floating around The Gulf Coast, will benefit our Colorado friends in the long run.
Between packing up my limited personal belongings before the move, finishing the Lay It Out So You Can Play It Out series, and all the other band and For/Sure Productions business going on, I've still had some time to stay analytical about the music business at large.
I read an article on Forbes.com the other day, titled "The Microsoft of the Entertainment Industry". The piece analyzed a potential merger between two music industry behemoths: Live Nation and Ticketmaster. You already know these companies well. The last time you went to see Madonna or Jay-Z at your local sports arena, you probably bought the tickets from Ticketmaster and noticed the tiny text on the top of the stub that says "Live Nation Presents...". These large conglomerate companies have been one of the few ticketing/promoting options in the business for several years now.
It seems that last year Ticketmaster starting buying up stake in promotion companies, while Live Nation was busy trying to start its own ticketing entity. Now it looks as though the individual companies have found a better way to reduce competition: a high-level merger! This news is particularly interesting after the jam community went abuzz last week when Live Nation bungled ticket sales for the highly anticipated return of jam-giant Phish.
We've all heard about monopolies and how bad they are for the marketplace. In the case of companies like Wal-Mart and Starbucks, the consumer can sometimes benefit from increased accessibility and lowered costs, despite limited market diversity.
Music is not a commodity, however. It is an art. True, some music serves a functional purpose, like a military march or some folk songs which help to transmit cultural information. But, Madonna is not a necessity for the transmission of cultural ideals! She is a luxury, a recreation that deserves fair market competition, or the consumer ends up losing, hard.
Concert prices are high enough as it is. I know that within our promotion company, For/Sure Productions, we debate a lot about how to keep ticket prices down. We could care less about a ticketing agency's break-even point. With a TicketNation merger, all that would go out the window.
Sometimes Big Moves hurt the Little Guy.
Club owners in NOLA are particularly opposed to technology it seems, oftentimes rejecting the internet and even voice-mail as means of booking acts, leaving you the sole option of patronizing the club over and over until contact with the elusive owner has been made.
That said, certain elements of the New Orleans music scene are much more accessible to the average musician. For example, I've opened for artists like Rebirth Brass Band, Talib Kweli and Juvenile in NOLA, whereas we struggle to find opening spots in Denver, due in large part to the fact that many major artists who come to Denver are controlled by large corporate entities ie; Live Nation (more on some big moves there in a bit). It is the accessibility to bigger acts and better musicians that makes NOLA an attractive place to spend our spring. We love the Denver/Boulder/Mountain region and plan to return, but the funky knowledge we will gain, just by inhaling the swampy musical molecules floating around The Gulf Coast, will benefit our Colorado friends in the long run.
Between packing up my limited personal belongings before the move, finishing the Lay It Out So You Can Play It Out series, and all the other band and For/Sure Productions business going on, I've still had some time to stay analytical about the music business at large.
I read an article on Forbes.com the other day, titled "The Microsoft of the Entertainment Industry". The piece analyzed a potential merger between two music industry behemoths: Live Nation and Ticketmaster. You already know these companies well. The last time you went to see Madonna or Jay-Z at your local sports arena, you probably bought the tickets from Ticketmaster and noticed the tiny text on the top of the stub that says "Live Nation Presents...". These large conglomerate companies have been one of the few ticketing/promoting options in the business for several years now.
It seems that last year Ticketmaster starting buying up stake in promotion companies, while Live Nation was busy trying to start its own ticketing entity. Now it looks as though the individual companies have found a better way to reduce competition: a high-level merger! This news is particularly interesting after the jam community went abuzz last week when Live Nation bungled ticket sales for the highly anticipated return of jam-giant Phish.
We've all heard about monopolies and how bad they are for the marketplace. In the case of companies like Wal-Mart and Starbucks, the consumer can sometimes benefit from increased accessibility and lowered costs, despite limited market diversity.
Music is not a commodity, however. It is an art. True, some music serves a functional purpose, like a military march or some folk songs which help to transmit cultural information. But, Madonna is not a necessity for the transmission of cultural ideals! She is a luxury, a recreation that deserves fair market competition, or the consumer ends up losing, hard.
Concert prices are high enough as it is. I know that within our promotion company, For/Sure Productions, we debate a lot about how to keep ticket prices down. We could care less about a ticketing agency's break-even point. With a TicketNation merger, all that would go out the window.
Sometimes Big Moves hurt the Little Guy.
Friday, December 26
Happy Kwanzaa
First off, I hope everyone is having an awesome holiday season spending time with friends and family. Kwanzaa starts today and I wanted to mention this often overlooked celebration. Kwanzaa is a seven day event with the typical candle-lighting, feasting and gift giving aspects we find at most holiday gatherings. Kwanzaa is a pan-African celebration and promotes ideals such as unity, cooperation, purpose and creativity. These are ideas I personally agree with and acknowledge, especially when listening to the heavily spiritual music that has come from Africa to shape music in America, much as Kwanzaa is a purely American holiday with strong roots in Africa.
The music I play owes a lot, directly and indirectly, to musical traditions which originated in Africa.
To sum up a semester's worth of ethno-musicology in one broad statement, you might say that music in Europe came about by written tradition, whereas African music centers largely around improvisation and group creativity. Given that fact, what we do in Frogs Gone Fishin' exists in a much more African, rather than European, context.
Beyond relying on group improvisation to make music, several of the genres and musical devices we employ come from Africa. Afro-beat, the blues, jazz, reggae, New Orleans, call-and-response melodies, syncopated rhythms, "dirty" sonic textures... all have their roots planted on the African continent.
So happy Kwanzaa everyone. I personally recommend going out and getting a Fela Kuti record to celebrate.
My next post will be the first in a series about starting a career in the music business and everything that might mean to you. Whether you'd like to perform, promote or sit in your bedroom and write songs for money, there will be a post for you sometime in the new year.
The music I play owes a lot, directly and indirectly, to musical traditions which originated in Africa.
To sum up a semester's worth of ethno-musicology in one broad statement, you might say that music in Europe came about by written tradition, whereas African music centers largely around improvisation and group creativity. Given that fact, what we do in Frogs Gone Fishin' exists in a much more African, rather than European, context.
Beyond relying on group improvisation to make music, several of the genres and musical devices we employ come from Africa. Afro-beat, the blues, jazz, reggae, New Orleans, call-and-response melodies, syncopated rhythms, "dirty" sonic textures... all have their roots planted on the African continent.
So happy Kwanzaa everyone. I personally recommend going out and getting a Fela Kuti record to celebrate.
My next post will be the first in a series about starting a career in the music business and everything that might mean to you. Whether you'd like to perform, promote or sit in your bedroom and write songs for money, there will be a post for you sometime in the new year.
Wednesday, December 17
Cabin Fever
The real problem is how cold it has been in Denver so far this winter. Beyond the fact that I've spent the last four years in Louisiana softening like a powdered beignet, the temperature has officially reached record lows this year. The other night it was -19F at the airport, just a few miles up the road from our house. As I was trying to remove the guitars and drums from our trailer in the middle of the night to keep them from freezing, my hand froze solid to the metal lock. I don't really know what Shakespeare meant by "Now is the winter of our discontent...", but I think it had something to do with the thin layer of flesh peeling off my palm as I disconnected the lock from my hand.
There are several good activities for musicians to pursue during the winter. During an intense spout of boredom I found this video of slap-bass originator Larry Graham of Sly and the Family Stone, "thumpin' and pluckin" away on a song called "POW". Nothing warms the soul like some funk from the height of the period. Take special note of Graham's wildly fringed costume, adding to his already exuberant stage presence.
While I'm on the computer observing those funky forefathers who came before us, I also like to lay down some funk of my own on GarageBand, that ubiquitous but functional recording software that comes standard on Mac's these days.
While many will make the arguement that GarageBand has turned legions of wanna-be deejay bush leaguers into undeserving recording artists, I personally believe there is an art to using such a simple program in a creatively fufilling way. And nothing kills time better than indulging every musical whim with nothing more than a computer, mic, guitar and keyboard.
Perhaps the one task I am consumed with out of excitement (and not boredom) is that of running For/Sure Productions LLC. We are happy to announce the first official artists confirmed for Mountainside Mardi Gras 2009: Papa Grows Funk and Johnny Sketch and The Dirty Notes, two solid funk bands from New Olreans, naturally. Contracts, budgets, artwork and publicity are just a couple aspects of running a huge festival that I avoid thinking about while trying to fall asleep at night, and try and focus on during the day.
Using this ultra-new, crazy concept called the "internet" will be key in promoting the event. Soon we will launch a Facebook group for those who'd like to get involved with the festival in exchange for tickets and the experience of "day of" operations (backstage at a Lil' Wayne concert is where I consider to have earned my promoting merit-badge).
The internet can do lots of things, even help us book shows in New Orleans for our move in February. But the World Wide Web won't keep you warm in the winter...
Music helps a little.
I recommend doing what we did in college on the rare occasion it got cold in New Orleans. Hang blankets over the doorways to your living room, blast the space heater, cuddle up with your browser and write a blog. I'm feeling warmer already...
There are several good activities for musicians to pursue during the winter. During an intense spout of boredom I found this video of slap-bass originator Larry Graham of Sly and the Family Stone, "thumpin' and pluckin" away on a song called "POW". Nothing warms the soul like some funk from the height of the period. Take special note of Graham's wildly fringed costume, adding to his already exuberant stage presence.
While I'm on the computer observing those funky forefathers who came before us, I also like to lay down some funk of my own on GarageBand, that ubiquitous but functional recording software that comes standard on Mac's these days.
While many will make the arguement that GarageBand has turned legions of wanna-be deejay bush leaguers into undeserving recording artists, I personally believe there is an art to using such a simple program in a creatively fufilling way. And nothing kills time better than indulging every musical whim with nothing more than a computer, mic, guitar and keyboard.
Perhaps the one task I am consumed with out of excitement (and not boredom) is that of running For/Sure Productions LLC. We are happy to announce the first official artists confirmed for Mountainside Mardi Gras 2009: Papa Grows Funk and Johnny Sketch and The Dirty Notes, two solid funk bands from New Olreans, naturally. Contracts, budgets, artwork and publicity are just a couple aspects of running a huge festival that I avoid thinking about while trying to fall asleep at night, and try and focus on during the day.
Using this ultra-new, crazy concept called the "internet" will be key in promoting the event. Soon we will launch a Facebook group for those who'd like to get involved with the festival in exchange for tickets and the experience of "day of" operations (backstage at a Lil' Wayne concert is where I consider to have earned my promoting merit-badge).
The internet can do lots of things, even help us book shows in New Orleans for our move in February. But the World Wide Web won't keep you warm in the winter...
Music helps a little.
I recommend doing what we did in college on the rare occasion it got cold in New Orleans. Hang blankets over the doorways to your living room, blast the space heater, cuddle up with your browser and write a blog. I'm feeling warmer already...
Tuesday, December 9
Ivan Neville and Dumpstaphunk
New Orleans has been serving up a steaming heap of funky gumbo ever since The Meters strutted on the scene in 1969. Even as The Funk progressed from P-Funk to Prince, Run DMC to Red Hot Chili Peppers, the New Orleans scene has stayed true to the ideals of it’s funky forefathers. Those ideals can be heard most any night of the week, spouted out in smoky clubs all over the city by those who have a penchant for deep grooves, hot horns and incorporating the word “funk” into their nomenclature. Bands like Papa Grows Funk, Big Sam’s Funky Nation and The Funky Meters all rule their respective rhythmic territories on funk street. But the newest rising star in both the funk and jam band scenes comes not from the street, but straight from the dumpster itself.
Since their inception in 2002, Ivan Neville and his Dumpstaphunk have dropped the proverbial dumpster on the notion that they would become just another formulaic funk band with a cliche way of incorporating “ph” into their group’s name (Phish had the idea back in ‘85).
The wall of syncopated sound created by the double bass attack of Nick Daniels (The Neville Brothers) and Tony Hall (Dave Matthews and Friends) is nothing less than thunderous. Driven by drummer Raymond Weber (Trey Anastasio Band), the Dumpstaphunk package is rounded out by cousins Ivan (organ, vocals) and Ian Neville (guitar). The resulting musical outcome puts any phonetic criticism regarding the band’s name immediately to rest.
The most surprising aspect of Dumpstaphunk’s history is their quick ascent from hypothesis to headliner in 4 short years. By 2006, Ivan’s band was traveling cross country to play and headline festivals like Bonnarroo and High Sierra.
I caught up with Ivan Neville in New Orleans via phone as the band took a break from recording new Dumpstaphunk material in the studio:
TJ: What does “Dumpstaphunk” mean?
Ivan Neville: Laughs... The name is from a song I was working on right around when the band was getting together. The guys were playing so nasty and dirty, we figured there is nothing funkier than a dumpster.
TJ: You’ve both played and sat in at a lot of festivals over the past year. What have some of the
highlights of this scene been?
IN: We played a festival in Florida recently, Bear Creek, where a lot of cats sat in... Derek Trucks (Allman Bros. Band) and Eric Krasno (Soulive) and a bunch of other guys. It was a great festival, lots of great funk bands. I also remember this one festival we did, what’s it called... Earth Dance!
Yeah, that one was good.
TJ: Where is that festival held?
IN: I don’t even remember, but... yeah that festival is a good one.
TJ: Some people have said that Dumpstaphunk is leading somewhat of a funk revolution in New Orleans right now. Do you think you guys are doing something new and revolutionary, or continuing a tradition that has been around for a while?
IN: We like to think that we are doing something new. We come from good stock. Of course, we are influenced by The Meters, the quintessential New Orleans funk band. We take from a lot of other musicians, try to mix it up, and make it new.
TJ: Thanks for taking time out of the studio to talk to me today. What are you guys working on and what can Dumpstaphunk fans expect in the near future?
IN: We are working on new Dumpstaphunk tunes... a lot of stuff. We are hoping to put a new special guest on the album. We are just trying to get the funk out there, really. We need to get over to Europe and Japan and spread the funk on an international level.
Since their inception in 2002, Ivan Neville and his Dumpstaphunk have dropped the proverbial dumpster on the notion that they would become just another formulaic funk band with a cliche way of incorporating “ph” into their group’s name (Phish had the idea back in ‘85).
The wall of syncopated sound created by the double bass attack of Nick Daniels (The Neville Brothers) and Tony Hall (Dave Matthews and Friends) is nothing less than thunderous. Driven by drummer Raymond Weber (Trey Anastasio Band), the Dumpstaphunk package is rounded out by cousins Ivan (organ, vocals) and Ian Neville (guitar). The resulting musical outcome puts any phonetic criticism regarding the band’s name immediately to rest.
The most surprising aspect of Dumpstaphunk’s history is their quick ascent from hypothesis to headliner in 4 short years. By 2006, Ivan’s band was traveling cross country to play and headline festivals like Bonnarroo and High Sierra.
I caught up with Ivan Neville in New Orleans via phone as the band took a break from recording new Dumpstaphunk material in the studio:
TJ: What does “Dumpstaphunk” mean?
Ivan Neville: Laughs... The name is from a song I was working on right around when the band was getting together. The guys were playing so nasty and dirty, we figured there is nothing funkier than a dumpster.
TJ: You’ve both played and sat in at a lot of festivals over the past year. What have some of the
highlights of this scene been?
IN: We played a festival in Florida recently, Bear Creek, where a lot of cats sat in... Derek Trucks (Allman Bros. Band) and Eric Krasno (Soulive) and a bunch of other guys. It was a great festival, lots of great funk bands. I also remember this one festival we did, what’s it called... Earth Dance!
Yeah, that one was good.
TJ: Where is that festival held?
IN: I don’t even remember, but... yeah that festival is a good one.
TJ: Some people have said that Dumpstaphunk is leading somewhat of a funk revolution in New Orleans right now. Do you think you guys are doing something new and revolutionary, or continuing a tradition that has been around for a while?
IN: We like to think that we are doing something new. We come from good stock. Of course, we are influenced by The Meters, the quintessential New Orleans funk band. We take from a lot of other musicians, try to mix it up, and make it new.
TJ: Thanks for taking time out of the studio to talk to me today. What are you guys working on and what can Dumpstaphunk fans expect in the near future?
IN: We are working on new Dumpstaphunk tunes... a lot of stuff. We are hoping to put a new special guest on the album. We are just trying to get the funk out there, really. We need to get over to Europe and Japan and spread the funk on an international level.
---- ----
The “good stock” Ivan refers to are his immediate ancestors, the founding fathers of the funk. Both Ivan and Ian’s fathers were instrumental in creating the music of The Meters and The Neville Brothers, bands whose legacy in the funk scene can never be overstated. When talking to Ivan, it’s clear that he enjoys both the tradition he came from and the direction Dumpstaphunk is taking.
However, it is neither family nor future that deļ¬nes Dumpstaphunk, but the funk fans themselves. “Bear Creek was Dumpstaphunk’s festival,” one festival-goer related to me. “The highlight of the festival, they straight up brought the funk”.
Dumpstaphunk’s music can be heard at http://www.dumpstaphunk.com.
However, it is neither family nor future that deļ¬nes Dumpstaphunk, but the funk fans themselves. “Bear Creek was Dumpstaphunk’s festival,” one festival-goer related to me. “The highlight of the festival, they straight up brought the funk”.
Dumpstaphunk’s music can be heard at http://www.dumpstaphunk.com.
Sunday, October 5
A Week of New Orleans Love
New Orleans is all-consuming. I have no apologies about my lack of posts this past week (it has taken me until today, Wednesday to finish this post) and can only hope to mentally wade through the events of the past days to relate what life is like for me when I come to the tropical mecca of music and mojo.
Sunday Oct. 28 - The Tourmobile rolls into New Orleans at 5:30am, three hours after leaving a brief but fun gig in Lake Charles, LA. Provided at least two of us aren't tired, driving overnight is oftentimes more efficient than during the day because there is much less traffic. Combined with our excitement about heading to NOLA, nothing stood in our way of screaming across the dark bayou-night, cutting through the salty thick air of the gulf shore fog. Five months is a long time to be away from New Orleans and I felt overwhelmed as we first glimpsed the dull-yellow beacon lights dotting the massive Crescent City Connection through the haze (a bridge spanning the wide Mississippi, connecting NOLA with the West Bank, where William Burroughs spent his later years). We crash immediately upon arrival at my old apartment, where kindred souls still reside, and spend the rest of Sunday resting and catching up with our most anticipated acquaintances. At night we see the first of much music we would absorb over the course of the week. The famed Maple Leaf club became somewhat of our musical second-home in NOLA, and I caught up with my always entertaining friend and funky mentor Russell Batiste (Funky Meters, Vida Blue). Russell had just come back from a run on the East Coast with George Porter Jr. (who I’ve also had the incredibly fortunate chance to play with) and Page McConnell of Phish who is reuniting with his band next year. Phish is my favorite band, and in a later post I’ll discuss why their reunion is very bittersweet for us...
Monday- We walk around Uptown sweating, putting up posters and promoting the shows scheduled for later in the week. Our efforts serve a dual purpose for me, as I try to reacquaint my senses with the fragrant tropical paradise that is the average Uptown avenue. Blue, purple, pink, white, red, yellow and any combination of bright colors line the streets and neutral grounds of New Orleans in the form of flowers, jungle greenery, and other plants which are not readily identified by us non-botanists. Parrots, lizards, FROGS (!) and alien insect populate these lush areas. Most impressive of all the life overtaking New Orleans are the trees: magical, old, knowledgeable trees who disregard human affairs and even our ultimately futile attempt to populate a city several feet below sea-level. Despite my utter distraction by this environment, so different from the arid Arizona/Texas moonscapes we've been traveling previously, we get good promo work done and word begins to spread about the shows on Thursday and Saturday. Again we see live music at The Leaf for the night, this time the NOLA funk staple Papa Grows Funk. For/Sure Productions is hiring PGF to play Mountainside Mardi Gras next August (an update on FSP in my next post) and as always, the band was more than happy to meet the rest of the Frogs and have a drink until the wee hours with us.
Tuesday: Jack, our record label manager, put Tell Me True on-sale in The Mushroom, a locally run record shop (very hip) in our ongoing effort to take care of all the little things that really make bands successful in the long run. Tuesday was spent booking gigs and firming up our November-January stay in Colorado. We have some very exciting shows coming up for Winter, including Nov. 4th at the sublime Fox Theater in Boulder, several live-radio broadcasts, and a new album to start work on.
Wednesday: Resting for the next day’s show in New Orleans involves mimosas and barefoot frisbee in Audubon Park, named such for the colorful birds of all hues who flit about every tree in the vast park.
Thursday: An early gig on Tulane’s campus,12pm early to be precise: earlier than Frogs have played since jamming a tail-gate on Vanderbilt’s campus four years ago. Playing at Tulane is an interesting animal. Those students who choose to go to school in New Orleans solely to party will largely ignore music and walk coldly by an on-campus concert on their way to the frat house for some warm keg-beer. Those who come for the potentially rich cultural experience (which ironically includes drinking anyway), will not only watch but appreciate a gem of musicality happening on campus... Thursday night, the band went to The Maple Leaf (shocking!) and saw members of Galactic sitting in with Ivan Neville, Russell Batiste and George Porter Jr.
Friday: Woke up to a beautiful sunny day, not unlike those listed above and below and promptly decided to try and play a pick-up gig. While at happy hour, sitting outside that classy Tulane campus bar “The Boot”, I mentioned to a gentleman who was hauling large quantities of liquor that we’d be happy to play at whatever function he was obviously stocking up for. “Of course”, he replied, and we proceeded to jam the Sig Ep fraternity parent get-together for exactly the price of as many beers as we could drink. Our payment properly adjusted our collective mindset for what we were to experience next. Sauntering over to campus after packing it up, we decided to meander toward the Funky Meters concert taking place. While walking near the gates behind the stage, Ivan Neville questioned as to why I was on the wrong side of the fence and quickly got 3 backstage passes thrown our way. As star-struck as I probably should have been talking to Art Neville backstage, my calling as musician and vocation as promoter forces me to be as reserved as I can around such funk-gods as this. Mark (drums, FGF) and Portwood (guitar/vox) each made their rounds, chatting with the Neville, Porter, or Batiste of their choice as I consulted Ivan on some things we are doing right and wrong with regard to Mountainside Mardi Gras. Insightful Wisdom from the Masters. The band crashes early: no more to be done on such an evening, and work to do tomorrow.
Saturday: Coffee on the trip down to WWOZ (90.7 FM) for an interview about the night’s show. WWOZ is the flagship radio station of New Orleans music and culture. Commercial free, community-funded and accessible to every demographic imaginable, WWOZ is like no other conventional radio station in the country. To obtain a promotional spot we had to take the dire steps of a) driving to the French Quarter broadcast station (next to the bustling french market) and b) calling upstairs to the on-duty DJ, who was more than happy to let us on air to talk about Frogs Gone Fishin' opening for Rebirth Brass Band at the Howlin’ Wolf, all despite the fact that it was a Latin-music format on-air at the time. During our down time between the radio spot and sound check, we put down a hip-hop track with members of my former group, The Keep Movin' Project. The track has a very heavy groove and you can listen to it here, under "Keep it Movin". We recorded the tune in under four hours with producer and beat-maker Felix Miles and rapper Ben Brubaker. The show at the Howlin' Wolf that night was an hour of pure energy and a great crowd (as usual, before Rebirth Brass Band plays). The benefit concert was for a great cause (the Peace Corps.) and a fantastic way to wrap up our stay in the Big Easy.
Sunday we said our goodbyes to the proud city that I love so much. Our time there convinced the band that living in New Orleans from Mardi Gras to JazzFest next year (March-April) should be our plan of action. I cannot wait to go back.
Last night we played a short set for a crowd of rowdy debate watchers and politicos at the official Tennessee Democratic Party's after-party. It felt great to openly endorse Obama on stage and play songs like "We the People", songs I've written over the past 8 years of political corruption and an unhappy population waiting for change. I really think that change is coming and places like New Orleans will be better for it.
Sunday Oct. 28 - The Tourmobile rolls into New Orleans at 5:30am, three hours after leaving a brief but fun gig in Lake Charles, LA. Provided at least two of us aren't tired, driving overnight is oftentimes more efficient than during the day because there is much less traffic. Combined with our excitement about heading to NOLA, nothing stood in our way of screaming across the dark bayou-night, cutting through the salty thick air of the gulf shore fog. Five months is a long time to be away from New Orleans and I felt overwhelmed as we first glimpsed the dull-yellow beacon lights dotting the massive Crescent City Connection through the haze (a bridge spanning the wide Mississippi, connecting NOLA with the West Bank, where William Burroughs spent his later years). We crash immediately upon arrival at my old apartment, where kindred souls still reside, and spend the rest of Sunday resting and catching up with our most anticipated acquaintances. At night we see the first of much music we would absorb over the course of the week. The famed Maple Leaf club became somewhat of our musical second-home in NOLA, and I caught up with my always entertaining friend and funky mentor Russell Batiste (Funky Meters, Vida Blue). Russell had just come back from a run on the East Coast with George Porter Jr. (who I’ve also had the incredibly fortunate chance to play with) and Page McConnell of Phish who is reuniting with his band next year. Phish is my favorite band, and in a later post I’ll discuss why their reunion is very bittersweet for us...
Monday- We walk around Uptown sweating, putting up posters and promoting the shows scheduled for later in the week. Our efforts serve a dual purpose for me, as I try to reacquaint my senses with the fragrant tropical paradise that is the average Uptown avenue. Blue, purple, pink, white, red, yellow and any combination of bright colors line the streets and neutral grounds of New Orleans in the form of flowers, jungle greenery, and other plants which are not readily identified by us non-botanists. Parrots, lizards, FROGS (!) and alien insect populate these lush areas. Most impressive of all the life overtaking New Orleans are the trees: magical, old, knowledgeable trees who disregard human affairs and even our ultimately futile attempt to populate a city several feet below sea-level. Despite my utter distraction by this environment, so different from the arid Arizona/Texas moonscapes we've been traveling previously, we get good promo work done and word begins to spread about the shows on Thursday and Saturday. Again we see live music at The Leaf for the night, this time the NOLA funk staple Papa Grows Funk. For/Sure Productions is hiring PGF to play Mountainside Mardi Gras next August (an update on FSP in my next post) and as always, the band was more than happy to meet the rest of the Frogs and have a drink until the wee hours with us.
Tuesday: Jack, our record label manager, put Tell Me True on-sale in The Mushroom, a locally run record shop (very hip) in our ongoing effort to take care of all the little things that really make bands successful in the long run. Tuesday was spent booking gigs and firming up our November-January stay in Colorado. We have some very exciting shows coming up for Winter, including Nov. 4th at the sublime Fox Theater in Boulder, several live-radio broadcasts, and a new album to start work on.
Wednesday: Resting for the next day’s show in New Orleans involves mimosas and barefoot frisbee in Audubon Park, named such for the colorful birds of all hues who flit about every tree in the vast park.
Thursday: An early gig on Tulane’s campus,12pm early to be precise: earlier than Frogs have played since jamming a tail-gate on Vanderbilt’s campus four years ago. Playing at Tulane is an interesting animal. Those students who choose to go to school in New Orleans solely to party will largely ignore music and walk coldly by an on-campus concert on their way to the frat house for some warm keg-beer. Those who come for the potentially rich cultural experience (which ironically includes drinking anyway), will not only watch but appreciate a gem of musicality happening on campus... Thursday night, the band went to The Maple Leaf (shocking!) and saw members of Galactic sitting in with Ivan Neville, Russell Batiste and George Porter Jr.
Friday: Woke up to a beautiful sunny day, not unlike those listed above and below and promptly decided to try and play a pick-up gig. While at happy hour, sitting outside that classy Tulane campus bar “The Boot”, I mentioned to a gentleman who was hauling large quantities of liquor that we’d be happy to play at whatever function he was obviously stocking up for. “Of course”, he replied, and we proceeded to jam the Sig Ep fraternity parent get-together for exactly the price of as many beers as we could drink. Our payment properly adjusted our collective mindset for what we were to experience next. Sauntering over to campus after packing it up, we decided to meander toward the Funky Meters concert taking place. While walking near the gates behind the stage, Ivan Neville questioned as to why I was on the wrong side of the fence and quickly got 3 backstage passes thrown our way. As star-struck as I probably should have been talking to Art Neville backstage, my calling as musician and vocation as promoter forces me to be as reserved as I can around such funk-gods as this. Mark (drums, FGF) and Portwood (guitar/vox) each made their rounds, chatting with the Neville, Porter, or Batiste of their choice as I consulted Ivan on some things we are doing right and wrong with regard to Mountainside Mardi Gras. Insightful Wisdom from the Masters. The band crashes early: no more to be done on such an evening, and work to do tomorrow.
Saturday: Coffee on the trip down to WWOZ (90.7 FM) for an interview about the night’s show. WWOZ is the flagship radio station of New Orleans music and culture. Commercial free, community-funded and accessible to every demographic imaginable, WWOZ is like no other conventional radio station in the country. To obtain a promotional spot we had to take the dire steps of a) driving to the French Quarter broadcast station (next to the bustling french market) and b) calling upstairs to the on-duty DJ, who was more than happy to let us on air to talk about Frogs Gone Fishin' opening for Rebirth Brass Band at the Howlin’ Wolf, all despite the fact that it was a Latin-music format on-air at the time. During our down time between the radio spot and sound check, we put down a hip-hop track with members of my former group, The Keep Movin' Project. The track has a very heavy groove and you can listen to it here, under "Keep it Movin". We recorded the tune in under four hours with producer and beat-maker Felix Miles and rapper Ben Brubaker. The show at the Howlin' Wolf that night was an hour of pure energy and a great crowd (as usual, before Rebirth Brass Band plays). The benefit concert was for a great cause (the Peace Corps.) and a fantastic way to wrap up our stay in the Big Easy.
Sunday we said our goodbyes to the proud city that I love so much. Our time there convinced the band that living in New Orleans from Mardi Gras to JazzFest next year (March-April) should be our plan of action. I cannot wait to go back.
Last night we played a short set for a crowd of rowdy debate watchers and politicos at the official Tennessee Democratic Party's after-party. It felt great to openly endorse Obama on stage and play songs like "We the People", songs I've written over the past 8 years of political corruption and an unhappy population waiting for change. I really think that change is coming and places like New Orleans will be better for it.
Wednesday, August 13
Big Sammie/Fall Tour Preview
Frogs Gone Fishin' will play a very special show on September 11 at Dulcinea's in Denver with one of my favorite artists from New Orleans! Big Sam's Funky Nation, consisting of big Sammie on trombone and the rest of his funky nation, will funk you up all night long in a way that only a NOLA band can. Us Frogs will be working on our funky tunes until then... maybe we could have a Big Sam's Froggy Nation Jam, hmmm???
We will be visiting NOLA on our FGF Fall Tour, after Texas and before a run that will stretch up through Tennessee, Virginia, Washington DC around election time, and back to Colorado via the Midwest. Although I already know that our time in New Orleans will be short, I can barely stand the anticipation of absorbing every minute of it. I miss that city and its beautiful people every day.
"Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans?
And miss it each night and day?
I know I'm not wrong... this feelings gettin' stronger
The longer, I stay away..
Miss them moss covered vines...the tall sugar pines
Where mockin' birds used to sing
And I'd like to see that lazy Mississippi...hurryin' into spring"
-Louis "Satchmo" Armstrong
We will be visiting NOLA on our FGF Fall Tour, after Texas and before a run that will stretch up through Tennessee, Virginia, Washington DC around election time, and back to Colorado via the Midwest. Although I already know that our time in New Orleans will be short, I can barely stand the anticipation of absorbing every minute of it. I miss that city and its beautiful people every day.
"Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans?
And miss it each night and day?
I know I'm not wrong... this feelings gettin' stronger
The longer, I stay away..
Miss them moss covered vines...the tall sugar pines
Where mockin' birds used to sing
And I'd like to see that lazy Mississippi...hurryin' into spring"
-Louis "Satchmo" Armstrong
Sunday, May 11
Went down to the crossroads....
Last night's gig served as a personal crossroad in my musical life. It was likely The Zoo's last gig until those of us who have been in college for the last four years again visit New Orleans for a musical reunion. Who knows how long it will be until that day.
I'll be back. I love this town and am playing music on tour with Frogs Gone Fishin', guys I went to high school with who I am now fortunate enough to record and tour with.
Last night was probably around the tenth time The Zoo has played the Howlin' Wolf, not to mention all the other clubs (Tipitina's, The Maple Leaf) we have played, or sat in at. It wasn't the rowdiest or biggest crowd we've had by a long shot (opening for Talib Kweli was around 4,000 people), but I could feel a respect for the musicians I play with coming from the club and audience that simply wasn't there four years ago when we started.
We managed to bring around two-hundred souls to that club four years ago and you know how they repaid us? Confiscating all our beers and some other personal items backstage. Granted I was yet to be of legal age at the time of that first Zoo gig, but this is New Orleans now people. This was a far cry from the free beer and backstage privacy we received last night.
The music industry is funny like that. There is not an even continuum of advancement, like in other professions. You are shit on until you break the threshold of the musical community (New Orleans has a very small and penetrable scene, thank god). I suppose this blog will attempt to highlight the crazy incongruities and idiosyncrasies in the music business as I move forward into my professional music career.
As I leave the deep south crossroads in New Orleans and head out on tour, I'll keep everyone posted on how I see this crazy business along with stories about some well known musicians, my experiences promoting, marketing, writing, and existing in the world of music.
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