New Orleans Brass Bands S/D

I don't think the New York shows got much pre-press, but they split the bill with Slavic Soul Party who presumably have their own crowd.

Someone also sent me this bit of complete WTF-ness:

Lil' Stooges Brass Band | New Orleans Jazz
Productshop NYC — The Lil' Stooges Brass Band are a wonderfully gothic jazz
outfit that hail from New Orleans. These cats sound like they could
perfectly score a Tim Burton film. They're known as one of the hottest
outfits out the big easy.

So the New York press that missed the earlier shows may now have another shot.

The Stooges show in Madison was a blast, although they've certainly switched things up on this tour. Sammy, the snare drummer, is out on tour with Trombone Shorty so they got a drumset player (Christmas) in his stead. He just got off tour with Gerald Levert (!) and he's a bad motherfucker. They've also got some electric instruments now, so it's different but good. Can't wait for our shows together this weekend.

http://stoogesband.blogspot.com

I saw the below listed at the very cool home of the groove audio blog (which is featuring obscure James Booker selections). Not a brass band, but something folks in Southern Cal should check out:

October 20, 21, 22, 23, 2005
Katrina Benefit Series featuring Eddie Bo and band, plus special
guests, such as Mickey Champion, at
Little Pedro’s
901 E. 1st St. (at Vignes)
Los Angeles, CA 90012
213-687-3766

Rebirth are playing DC twice, in addition to Baltimore and a NY show at B.B King's upscale place.

I still can't find Troy 'Trombone Shorty' Andrews tour listed anywhere.

Did the Stooges Brass Band ever get another NY date for Sunday?

Did the Stooges Brass Band ever get another NY date for Sunday?

I'm not sure, I'll check tonight.

The New York Times

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 11, 2005
New Orleans strikes up the band
By Shaila Dewan


NEW ORLEANS It would not be fair to say the music ever totally evacuated this city of jazz, where even in the darkest hours a lone harmonica player or a busker serenaded empty balconies. But on Sunday, it began its grand re-entrance, with the first jazz funeral procession to take place since Hurricane Katrina.

The brass band, reunited from across the country, toted donated instruments. The procession leaders wore salvaged bits of their traditional funeral finery. Just after 2 p.m. on the corner of North Broad and St. Bernard, the strains of "Just a Closer Walk With Thee" streamed past the heaps of stinking garbage and fallen roofs like milk and honey and sweet Abita beer, a flash of grandeur and ritual that hearkened to a New Orleans past and, many in the crowd swore, future.

Mourners carrying pictures of the chef Austin Leslie, a New Orleans legend who died in Atlanta last month after being rescued from his attic during the flood, followed behind with the measured step of brides moving down the aisle. But the procession was not for Leslie alone.

"This is the first opportunity we had to show the whole spirit of New Orleans," said Gralen Banks, whose yellow shirt and hatband showed his membership in the Black Men of Labor, one of the social and pleasure clubs for whom the jazz parades are a cherished tradition. "And we're not going to pass it up for love or money."

Symbolically, the procession reclaimed a city occupied by out-of-towners, passing like an apparition past soldiers in camouflage and workers in hard hats.

Most jazz funerals begin with a dirge-like tempo, with the band following a caisson or hearse to the cemetery. After the mourners "cut loose the body," as people here say, the procession turns into a celebration, winding through the streets, playing in the funky style invented in, and still largely the sole province of, New Orleans.

This time, things were improvised. Leslie, whose name was synonymous with fried chicken for generations of New Orleans residents and whose restaurant inspired the 1980s television series "Frank's Place," had his funeral Friday in Atlanta. He was cremated because he could not be buried in New Orleans, and his relatives plan to bring his ashes here when they return.

So the procession became a cross between a true jazz funeral and a secular "second-line" parade, conducted by the social clubs every week during second-line season, Labor Day through Mardi Gras.

At a second-line, spectators and parade are one and the same, with the brass bands leading long lines of dancers through the neighborhoods, stopping along the way at favorite watering holes. Labor Day weekend this year would have marked the Prince of Wales club's 77th annual parade, said Joe Stern, a member.

"Without second-line, there is no Louis Armstrong, there is no Idris Muhammad, there's no Wynton Marsalis," Stern said, ticking off some of the city's jazz greats. The procession began at Pampy's Creole Kitchen, where Leslie worked in his final years, with Banks and other members of his club leading the way.

The procession was far smaller than usual, but residents who had ventured home to start cleaning their property were overjoyed to see a critical piece of the city's identity restored.

On La Harpe Street, Mildred Matthews, 79, came out on her porch, dancing and waving a soiled orange fly swatter as if it were a silk banner. "Y'all come back home to New Orleans!" she yelled. Her sister, Genevieve Neustadter, a retired teacher who moved home to New Orleans in June and lost everything, shouted into her cellphone: "A second-line parade passing. Call me back."

Both the sisters knew Leslie, had eaten in his restaurants. But a funeral was not what came to Matthews's mind. "I thought it was a welcome home," she said. "I'm back and I'm back to stay."

Six of the nine members of the band, the Hot 8, had come for the day - Bennie Pete, the leader, from Atlanta, Big Al, the trumpeter, from Baton Rouge, a guy named Swamp from "somewhere in Alabama." They were joined by Charles Joseph, a trombonist.

The band manager, Lee Arnold, was handing out fliers for his "Save Our Brass!" campaign to help musicians get back on their feet. In the next week, he said, the band would travel to shelters to play for evacuees.

But for now, they were home, doing what they do best. "They were upset about how the city looked," Arnold said. "But when they start hittin' - when they start playing music - that's when the smiles come out."

As the second-line approached the concrete slab where Chez Helene, Leslie's restaurant, once stood, the music slowed again.

A poster bearing a photograph of Leslie - wearing a white ship captain's hat, surrounded by photographs of shrimp dishes and garlic cloves - was propped up in the middle of the street. Next to it, another poster read "We won't bow down. Save our soul. 10/9/05."

celebration, winding through the streets, playing in the funky style invented in, and still largely the sole province of, New Orleans.

This time, things were improvised. Leslie, whose name was synonymous with fried chicken for generations of New Orleans residents and whose restaurant inspired the 1980s television series "Frank's Place," had his funeral Friday in Atlanta. He was cremated because he could not be buried in New Orleans, and his relatives plan to bring his ashes here when they return.

So the procession became a cross between a true jazz funeral and a secular "second-line" parade, conducted by the social clubs every week during second-line season, Labor Day through Mardi Gras.

At a second-line, spectators and parade are one and the same, with the brass bands leading long lines of dancers through the neighborhoods, stopping along the way at favorite watering holes. Labor Day weekend this year would have marked the Prince of Wales club's 77th annual parade, said Joe Stern, a member.

"Without second-line, there is no Louis Armstrong, there is no Idris Muhammad, there's no Wynton Marsalis," Stern said, ticking off some of the city's jazz greats. The procession began at Pampy's Creole Kitchen, where Leslie worked in his final years, with Banks and other members of his club leading the way.

The procession was far smaller than usual, but residents who had ventured home to start cleaning their property were overjoyed to see a critical piece of the city's identity restored.

On La Harpe Street, Mildred Matthews, 79, came out on her porch, dancing and waving a soiled orange fly swatter as if it were a silk banner. "Y'all come back home to New Orleans!" she yelled. Her sister, Genevieve Neustadter, a retired teacher who moved home to New Orleans in June and lost everything, shouted into her cellphone: "A second-line parade passing. Call me back."

Both the sisters knew Leslie, had eaten in his restaurants. But a funeral was not what came to Matthews's mind. "I thought it was a welcome home," she said. "I'm back and I'm back to stay."

Six of the nine members of the band, the Hot 8, had come for the day - Bennie Pete, the leader, from Atlanta, Big Al, the trumpeter, from Baton Rouge, a guy named Swamp from "somewhere in Alabama." They were joined by Charles Joseph, a trombonist.

The band manager, Lee Arnold, was handing out fliers for his "Save Our Brass!" campaign to help musicians get back on their feet. In the next week, he said, the band would travel to shelters to play for evacuees.

But for now, they were home, doing what they do best. "They were upset about how the city looked," Arnold said. "But when they start hittin' - when they start playing music - that's when the smiles come out."

As the second-line approached the concrete slab where Chez Helene, Leslie's restaurant, once stood, the music slowed again.

A poster bearing a photograph of Leslie - wearing a white ship captain's hat, surrounded by photographs of shrimp dishes and garlic cloves - was propped up in the middle of the street. Next to it, another poster read "We won't bow down. Save our soul. 10/9/05."

By MICHAEL TISSERAND(Gambit editor and author of the book Kingdom of Zydeco) http://www.tucsonweekly.com/gbase/Currents/Content?oid=74104

"....On Sunday, Oct. 9, the city of New Orleans had its first of what is sure to be many jazz funerals. A second-line honored chef Austin Leslie, who died of a heart attack in Atlanta during the evacuation. The Hot 8 Brass Band played, and a few members of the Black Men of Labor danced. But they were outnumbered by journalists from The New Yorker, The New York Times, CNN, CBS, The Associated Press and others in search of a symbol of regeneration. As the band passed, workers in hazmat suits stood on the sidewalk and stared.

I'm like all those other journalists. I'm looking for a sign, too. Something to tell me that we're going to pass the test. I haven't found it yet. Maybe it's too soon. Maybe we just need to start the rebuild without one."

Blogger Chuck Taggart posted this intro paragraph for a Keith Spera article on Dr. Michael White and all the historic objects and cds this jazz musician and professor lost:

The heartbreak continues. I guess I didn't post this as the lead because I felt we needed a drink first. As bad as our own experiences were, and as bad as they are for tens of thousands of people, you hear stories like this and it makes your head want to explode. I'm not sure we'll ever be able to truly get over the loss to the city of New Orleans, particularly when reading about people like Dr. Michael White, one of my favorite jazz musicians.

Saturday, October 22, 2005
By Keith Spera
Music writer New Orleans Times-Picayune

Jazz clarinetist Michael White returned to his Gentilly home on Friday for first time since Hurricane Katrina and confronted a desolate tableau: beige bricks stained and striped by 6 feet of water; a front door branded with the bright orange and red marks of search teams; dead grass and demolished trees.

"It reminds me of one of those 'Twilight Zone' episodes," White said as he approached the door, "where I'll go in and find my own body."

Instead, he found his body of work, his valuable jazz artifacts and his personal treasures -- now decimated by water and mold.

For White, jazz is life; his instruments, family. He leads the traditional Original Liberty Jazz Band and is a respected scholar of New Orleans music and culture. He occupied an endowed chair at Xavier University, published meticulously researched articles and biographies, and lectured on topics ranging from Congo Square to the early history of New Orleans brass bands.

He lived alone in the 5200 block of Pratt Street, surrounded by jazz music, books and artifacts. The night before Katrina struck, he fled to Houston with several vintage instruments, among them the model for the giant clarinet mural outside the downtown Holiday Inn.

But he left behind 40 others, including a clarinet owned by King Oliver sideman Paul Barnes.

[...] Picking through debris in the ruins of his house, he found little to salvage. Outfitted with a mask and green rubber gloves, he stepped gingerly over a pile of jazz magazines just inside the door, now reduced to pulp. He spotted the remains of a new two-volume encyclopedia documenting the Harlem jazz renaissance, to which he contributed five biographies.

To the right hung a framed smudge, what was once a rare 1960s Bob Coke photograph of jazz bassist "Papa" John Joseph, a distant relative of White's. Joseph died of a heart attack onstage at Preservation Hall in 1965, reportedly after performing "When the Saints Go Marching In."

"No matter what had happened during the day, I'd look at that picture, and it gave me strength," White said. "It was the most beautiful picture I'd seen of Papa John. Wherever you went in the room, those eyes followed you. There was wisdom, but also truth."

Inside a waterlogged closet lay White's collection of vintage wooden instruments. He couldn't open the warped door.

"I don't know if I want to," he said. "That would be like (finding) relatives."

His casualties included more than 4,000 CDs and LPs. And there were as many books and a vast trove of research material, including primary source documents, voluminous notes and taped interviews with musicians. He had original sheet music from Jelly Roll Morton, King Oliver, Sidney Bechet and Louis Armstrong.

Also gone are a set of banjo strings played by legendary jazz raconteur Danny Barker; a medal appointing White to the Chevalier rank in the French Order of Arts and Letters; snapshots with the late jazz legend Kid Thomas Valentine and President Clinton; and a 1993 New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival poster autographed by artist John Scott.

Accompanying him Friday were a cameraman and writer Jason Berry, who is directing a documentary about jazz funerals that features White. Berry marveled at the scale of the loss, both to White personally and to jazz scholarship in general.

"Not that many people carry the history and culture like Michael does," Berry said. "It's the way Louis Armstrong did, the way Danny Barker did, the way Wynton Marsalis does. They are those rare players who rise to another plateau and become more than musicians. That's why it's so heartbreaking to see his loss."

Berry carted soggy artifacts to the porch: a painting of legendary clarinetist George Lewis, one of White's heroes. A sketch from Africa. Framed album artwork from Bunk Johnson's "Brass and Dance Band" and the Young Tuxedo Brass Band's "Jazz Begins."

"Michael, I think some of this can be salvaged."

"At this point," White said, "I'm trying to figure out if I can be salvaged." "I tried very hard to picture what this would be like, but you can't begin to imagine. The hard part is that there's a lot of history here that can't be replaced. It's all gone. I'm overwhelmed. I wouldn't know where to start."

Since evacuating, White has lived in a Houston hotel, exiled with his aunt, sister, nephew and elderly mother. Early on, he wondered if he could find work in Houston. He eventually landed a Sunday jazz brunch gig at a restaurant called Tommy's Seafood Steakhouse.

He is hunting for an apartment in Houston. But if Xavier University reopens in January, he wants to return. For now, he's written two "positive, upbeat" songs about a restored New Orleans.

And he takes comfort in the message of the jazz funeral, in which the spirit of the deceased is cut loose to enjoy a better life. Death, followed by rebirth.

"I have to keep remembering that," he said. "That's what gives us the courage to carry on."

On November 18th & 19th, Galactic's "10-Year Invasion Fall Tour" tour will culminate with a pair of unique performances at Washington DC's 9:30 Club. Dubbed "9:30 in New Orleans," these tour-ending shows will be a New Orleans style party featuring improvisational collaborations, a multitude of special guests and covers of classic material. Legendary vocalist and keyboardist Ivan Neville will make special appearances with Galactic throughout both nights, as will The Stooges Brass Band, who will also open the night of the 18th with a traditional, celebratory NOLA brass band show. The following evening will begin with a special performance by Robert Walter, who will be joined by Stanton Moore and Robert Mercurio of Galactic.

That Dr. White article, above, is another oh so sad tale.

Speaking of Baltimore. I received the following in an e-mail:

$50 donation.

HBO's The Wire is teaming up with Sonar to bring a little bit of New Orleans to Baltimore. The cast and crew of the show will all be on hand to help celebrate All Saint's Day with some of the Big Easy's best bands. All proceeds go to helping the victims of hurricane Katrina. (The ticket price is a tax deductible donation.)

The Wire & Associated Black Charities Present a Hurricane Katrina Benefit
FAT TUESDAY HOODOO THROWDOWN featuring
The Subdudes • Rebirth Brass Band • The Iguanas
Hosted by Wendell "The Bunk" Pierce
This Tuesday!
November 1
@ Sonar • 407 E. Saratoga St., Baltimore, MD
6pm Doors • All Ages!

Advance tickets throught Ticketmaster.

(Yes Dusk we know it's not really Fat Tuesday).

Hot 8 Brass Band are doing a series of benefits and gigs this week in NYC.

Also, Lousiana Music Factory, where I've gotten almost every single brass band cd, is back in business!

I saw this book advertised by the LSU Press in the Oxford American:

Keeping the Beat on the Street
The New Orleans Brass Band Renaissance

Mick Burns

"Told in the words of the musicians themselves, Keeping the Beat on the Street celebrates the renewed passion and pageantry among black brass bands in New Orleans. Mick Burns introduces the people who play the music and shares their insights, showing why New Orleans is the place where jazz continues to grow.
Brass bands waned during the civil rights era but revived around 1970 and then flourished in the 1980s, when the music became cool with the younger generation. In the only book to cover this revival, Burns interviews members from a variety of bands, including the Fairview Baptist Church Brass Band, the Dirty Dozen, Tuba Fats’ Chosen Few, and the Rebirth Brass Band." Mick Burns is the author of The Great Olympia Band and has played jazz professionally in Europe and the United States for forty years. He lives in Spilsby, Lincolnshire, in England.

Still waiting on word whether local DC/Baltimore promoters will get gigs for the Hot 8 Brass Band.

So I noticed online somewhere that the Stooges Brass Band apparently played Philly recently with indie-rock media darlings Clap Your Hands Say Yeah.

HA!

NY Times article on UK writer Nik Cohn and his involvement with New Orleans rap pre- and post-Katrina

This guy blogged about the Stooges in Philly in October (and others did as well) and elsewhere I saw a reference to this great show further north at M.I.T. that supposedly took place on 10/30:

Bayou Bash Concert featuring The Wild Magnolias, 7pm (doors at 6:30pm) at Kresge Auditorium. Bayou Bash’s main event!! This concert will be a huge gathering of New Orleans musicians including Big Chief Bo Dollis & The Wild Magnolias, the famous Mardi Gras Indians, who will perform with other Jazz standouts including: Marva Wright, Davell Crawford, Rockin' Dopsie, Jr, Bob French and the Lil Stooges Brass Band.

Davell Crawford is amazing btw (great organ player and sings like Stevie), and he's been having random gigs all over the place.

Jordan:

I've read about Davell in Offbeat but have never heard him...

His grandfather wrote Iko Iko (under the name Jacomo, and of course he hasn't seen a dime from it)!

Hot 8 and the Stooges are sort of the generation after Rebirth, and the style is a little bit different. The tempos are slower in general and the beat is more broken up. Things I love about this album:

"Jisten to Me" - the sounds like a street tune to me, and probably best highlights how Dinneral (the snare drummer) isn't afraid to throw in the craziest, out-of-nowhere shit and make it work.

"I Got You" - most of the bands are playing this tune now, the bassline is funky as shit. The 50 Cent quote in the trombone solo (not even a quote really, he sticks with it for 16 bars) is nice. I'm pretty sure it's Joe, the trombone player who got shot and killed by the police last year.

"Skeet Skeet" - this is the hit, and I loved hearing it blasting out of cars in New Orleans. There are no solos, it's like three minutes long, I love the 5th Ward Weebie verse, and whole end sequence going from the "shorty" chant to riff to the shout chorus is fire.

"Sexual Healing" - the drumming on this ridiculous, it's great how they keep the original beat on the song while turning it into something totally New Orleans and unique. They've played it at all the club shows I've been at and it's usually the last, craziest song of the night. It made me realize how well-constructed the original Gaye tune is, and I like the accapella bridges (although it's even better when everyone in the club knows the words).

"Rastafunk" - this is one of the tunes that was recorded a few years back when Shamar and Herb (now in Rebirth) were in the band, and then the newer horn players went back and overdubbed parts as well, so it's a wall of brass.

"Get Up" - this is my favorite joint on the album, listen to this one first. The groove and the bassline are so ridiculous I sometimes have to listen to it three times in a row, and the rapping is on it too. I don't think I've heard them play it live but it seems like it would be the ultimate second-line tune.

I think the best SOUNDING brass band records are Hot Venom and D-Boy. It took H8 ten years to come out with this one, but hopefully they'll do another record soon (I know they were planning on going in the studio before the hurricane hit).