Chick Corea, Stanley Clarke and Jack DeJohnette at the Catalina Bar and Grill

It’s been said that Los Angeles is a tough jazz town. New York, San Francisco, Boston, Chicago all have thriving jazz scenes in vibrant urban settings. Los Angeles, with its diasporadic lifestyle and geography, requires the jazz enthusiast to turn seeker. Rarely are things stumbled upon. The displacement of the Jazz Bakery last year was another (temporary) blow, so with a few newcomers and a handful of others who keep the faithful coming, Catalina’s Bar and Grill has always loomed large. For good reason.

When jazz royalty pays a visit, the devoted must rise. Such is the case with Chick Corea, Stanley Clarke and Jack DeJohnette spending the better part of a week here, and two shows nightly at 6725 Sunset Boulevard. This is a constellation of VSOP proportions. I’ve posted on the life altering effect RTF had on my young and evolving mind, when the reunion tour hit the Greek last September. The chance to see Chick Corea and Stanley Clarke in a straight ahead trio with the soon to be 70 Jack DeJohnette was/is not to be missed.

Chick Corea at the Catalina Bar and Grill

Drumming greats must share some cosmic mixologist. The elixir that keeps Roy Haynes swinging in his mid-80s and Jack DeJohnette celebrating 70 in rather good company is powerful stuff. I’ve been a huge DeJohnette admirer going back to the early CTI and ECM days, well before his decades holding down Keith Jarrett’s standards trio (his cheetah like drive on Coltrane’s “Moments Notice”, from Hubert Laws 1971 Rite of Spring CTI release, still clicks). DeJohnette’s touch and cymbal work are signature expressions of a composer and rhythmicist who wrings all the nuance and subtlety from a trap set then I ever thought possible. It’s not just what he plays, it’s what he doesn’t play and how he plays it. If you ask me to explain it better than that, I can’t. I just understand it. This 6-night stand is billed as a 70 celebration (though DeJohnette’s birthday is not until August), and it is clearly his party.

Jack DeJohnette, rhythm at a higher plane

Those of us arriving early to the opening Tuesday performance, were greeted with Chick working a few styles before the tuner put one final tweak to the Yamaha. It was as close to a living room setting as one could get – happy hour, oh yeah, Chick Corea at the piano with your drinks. Comedian (and New Orleans native) Garrett Morris teed up the music with humor and respect before the trio’s 90+ minute set. The opening Steve Swallow composition had DeJohnette literally rubbing elbow to floor tom skin, not for effect, but to coax the quietest percussive sound to match that moment. “Summer Night”, a Seven Steps to Heaven outtake that Chick told the audience he learned from Miles, was being played by the trio for the first time. It was beautifully rendered, with exceptional touch by all players, especially DeJohnette’s shimmering cymbal flourishes. Corea and DeJohnette seemed to ride shotgun back and forth, simultaneously driving and feeding the conversation. Billy Strayhorn’s “Lush Life” followed, with a Corea intro that danced and jumped, then settled into a duet with Stanley Clarke as the theme was uncovered.

Stanley Clarke, graceful and mighty

Wayne Shorter‘s “E.S.P.” (originally from the great Davis ‘60s quintet recording of the same name) was a highlight of the evening with interlocking improvisational turns true to the spirit of the piece, especially freed up in this trio format. At one point, four limbs were not enough for DeJohnette, as he strategically tossed multiple stick ends at his snare. The trio moved to a pair of DeJohnette compositions “Priestesses of the Mist”/“Earthwalk” from his 1991 Special Edition release. Painting in darker, almost Medieval, cabalistic colors, DeJohnette’s mallet work on his cymbals, higher tone toms and snare tangled with Corea’s discordant lower keys – Chick reaching with his right hand to mute the strongly hammered bass strikes of his left. This journey was haunting indeed.

Corea and DeJohnette, making contact

The set closed out with a new composition that kicked and swung completely the other direction, with acknowledged nods to Esperanza Spaulding, Levon Helm and Mardi Gras Indians along the way. And Stanley Clarke finally let loose with an explosive rumble of rhythmic thumbing and thwacking. DeJohnette led the trio through a latin tinged encore and a classic descending theme that struck me as a reverse “La Fiesta”. It was the evening’s only real infusion of Corea’s Spanish romance and brought the set to satisfying close.

Jack DeJohnette, he could turn matchsticks into an orchestra

Jack DeJohnette could turn matchsticks into an orchestra. He is a craftsman, carving, pushing, painting, adding layers, dissolving layers. Playing rims, mallets, skin on skin. The trio played as a true collaboration. No star turns, just discovery and nuance as only masters can pull off. Los Angeles may be a tough jazz town, but this Tuesday night, the first date of a 12-date West Coast tour, the city was a giant.

Touro Synagogue’s annual Jazzfest Shabbat service is a tradition that has featured the likes of Irma Thomas, Marcia Ball, Allen Toussaint, Irma Thomas and Jeremy Davenport over its 21 years. This year, John Boutte will grace the bima for this uniquely New Orleans gathering. Anyone who has heard John sing knows the beauty and soul his voice will bring to the service.

The event is commemorated by an illustrative interpretation of Jim Brock Photography’s image of Mr. Boutte by New Orleans artist Steven Sweet. The piece was commissioned by Touro Synagogue and features the singer dramatically set against a backdrop of the synagogue. The original source image was previously featured in the April 2011 USA Today print article, “New Orleans is back, and so is the talent”.

JazzFest Shabbat 2012

Jazzfest Shabbat is a very special event, bringing together Judaism, and the warmth and community of a Shabbat service, with the best in New Orleans music.  See Touro Synagogue JazzFest Shabbat 2012 for more information on the service and performance.

Jim Brock Photography is donating prints to raise funds for the Tipitina’s Foundation Instruments A Comin’ on April 30^th. Each year, Instruments A Comin’ (IAC) purchases instruments for school band programs in the greater New Orleans Area, and to date, has raised over $2.5 million for 75 schools. The 11^th Annual IAC features a stellar line up including Galactic, Trombone Shorty & Orleans Avenue, BIGI (Ivan Neville, George Porter, Jr., Ian Neville, and Russell Batiste), Honey Island Swamp Band, Johnny Sketch & The Dirty Notes Shamarr Allen & The Underdawgs, Big Sam’s Funky Nation, Anders Osborne, Brass-A-Holics, Johnny Vidacovich, Al “Carnival Time” Johnson, Mia Borders, Walter “Wolfman” Washington, Donald Harrison & The T.I.P. Interns (and more). Other events include a silent auction, battle of the marching bands, walk and wall of fame induction ceremonies and more. In addition to the silent auction, items are available for bidding online now. If you believe in the City, have a love for the music and want to make a difference from wherever you are, please considering bidding. Two Jim Brock Photography prints are currently available for bidding, with more to be added.

Anders Osborne, 2011 – Instruments A Comin’ Auction 2012

Paul Sanchez Guitar, 2010 – Instruments A Comin’ Auction 2012

Prints are 16 x 24 on Type-C Kodak Endura paper and verso signed for authentication.

Big Daddy, Roxie, Silky, Preacher, Honeychild and Two Boots

“Every saint has a past, every sinner has a future”. Turns out every Villain has a story, too. The “19-piece 1930s New Orleans Cabaret and Orchestra show” that goes by Vaud & the Villains seems to have stepped out of time to deliver us from ourselves. With the likes of The Animal, Big Daddy, Honeychild, Silky, Preacher, Babyface, Peaches Mahoney, Shady Sadie, Low Down Kate and a seeming cast of thousands under the watchful eye of one Vaud Overstreet, these Villains transport all who enter to an age when liquor only flowed through speakeasys, gals were skilled at financially relocating men’s wallets, and hard luck was religion.  Yeah it’s 2012, and they time-travel seamlessly.

Part revival, part burlesque and all in, Vaud & the Villains dig deep into gospel, rhythm and soul, blues, New Orleans brass and Americana, to create a performance that resonates, entertains and seduces. This is a committed bunch – to the music, to the presentation and to the enjoyment of the audience. They have to be. Travelling from gig-to-gig with at least 4 horns, 3 singers, 2 dancers, fiddle, banjo, drums, upright bass, sousaphone, acoustic guitar and “one-string” guitar (as was the configuration at The Mint) is labor intensive as it is, let alone delivering over two dozen tunes in period dress with enough strategic wardrobe changes to give Cher a run for her money.

Vaud Overstreet

The arc to most Vaud shows unwraps like an Elmore Leonard novel. Beginning with Vaud Overstreet (Andy Comeau) taking center stage – part carny barker/part fire and brimstone, regaling the audience with tales of lust, grifting and generally bad deeds. Vaud sets the table for the respective Villains to share their backstory throughout the performance, stepping back into the shadows, as the Villains take over, re-emerging to pick up the story and receding again. You can’t help but buy in.

What is special about V + V is the attention to traditional musical roots, while making sure that everyone has a damn good time. Not a lot of acts can pull off a Depression era heavy repertoire and sell it to a predominantly younger crowd. It is a high compliment that a good chunk of the Mint show included many songs that reached a fresh audience with Springsteen’s Seeger Sessions project, and that Vaud and co. keep that flame very much alive. Of course, it doesn’t hurt to have two rather sexy and talented dancers add a little visual uplift to the whole affair. When these gals take their spots, heads turn, dates smile and the whole thing goes up a notch.

The delicious Peaches Mahoney

I first caught up with Vaud & the Villains in 2009, where they provided some after party entertainment to Cirque Bezerk, a locally infused brew of Burning Man meets Cirque Du Soleil for the loft district demo. In the past few years, they have taken up an irregular residency at Club Fais Do-Do. A former movie theater along a questionable stretch of Adams Boulevard, it’s a perfect room for this particular spectacle – an old warehouse feel of a place with an exposed barrel truss ceiling, plenty of couches and tables scattered throughout, and lots of room for audience and performers alike. V + V first played the Mint opening for the New Orleans Bingo Show (yes, that was a night) in 2010 and have been back a few times since. The room is almost too intimate to contain the show. It’s tight, but they make it work somehow. A rainy St. Paddy’s night was the perfect backdrop for their latest Mint return.

Plenty o'green

Opening with an old timey “I Want to Sing That Rock and Roll” and the St. James Infirmary-ish treatment of “Eyes on the Prize”, V + V moved deftly through a first set with an old as the hills throwdown of “O Mary Don’t You Weep”, a blues ‘bone flavor to “Play Your Hall Tonight” (with an “Old Time Religion” teaser for effect), and Dr. John’s “Marie Laveau”. “Jacob’s Ladder” brought some big tent spirit to the small room and fiddler Big Daddy scatted his way through “It’s a Sin to Tell a Lie”. “St. James Infirmary” almost had a samba like twist to it. That’s new and different.

Some kind of Animal

The second set went 16+ songs deep beginning with an operatic entrance by the Animal (Antoine Reynaldo Diel) belting the refrain of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”. The Celtic abandon of “Americanland” was perfect for the occasion, “Rag Doll” had both dancers effectively channeling their inner burlesque and Honeychild (Jessica Childress) somehow turned “Que Sera Sera” into a soulful RnB tune. The Villain horns became one with the floor for a “John Henry” hoedown. Peaches Mahoney (Dawn Lewis) was in full chanteuse mode for “Slap and Tickle”.  “Animal’s Testament” brought Sunday church to the bar with some nice NOLA swing from the brass. A personal favorite, “Samson and Delilah” bears no resemblance to the Dead’s interpretation. The Villains’ read is dark, brooding and elemental. The heartbreak of “Thanks a Lot” had Preacher twanging through a song that wouldn’t have been out of place in 1960s’ Bakersfield. Honeychild and newcomer Roxie pumped “Sister Got It Bad” with the appropriate bluesy bluster. As if “Iko Iko” is not enough of a crowd pleaser (in a good way), the Villains segued into “I Want You Back” (yes, Michael Jackson). Then, whiplashed back to the 20’s for Sidney Bechet’s saloon friendly “Viper Mad”, featuring the dueling banjos of Low Down Kate and Babyface (Adam Grimes). That’s right, Michael Jackson and Sidney Bechet in the same breath (don’t try this at home). “Night Time” (is the right time, for sure), a bittersweet “This Train” (with a taste of Curtis Mayfield’s “People Get Ready”) and a foot stomping “This Little Light of Mine” closed out a very generous pre-encore set. More revival, less baggage.

Honeychild and shamrock

V + V are a Los Angeles treasure with NOLA blood in the veins. They invite all to lose their abandon, shake it a bit, and forget their troubles. But there is something deeper, too. Traditional songs having a resurgence almost a century later. Look no further than Neil Young and Crazy Horse’s upcoming “Americana” with the infamous noise monsters covering familiar 19^th century folk songs – another example of traditional material reinvigorated by one of the more influential musicians of our time. These songs are still who we are. With Vaud & the Villains we get the show, too. And any more fun would be illegal. Seriously.

At the end of the Mint gig, Vaud announced to the crowd they were officially “Villainized”. That’s a good thing. Be you sinner or saint, you can’t leave a Vaud & the Villains show half empty. Spread the word. These guys deliver big time. Life is better when you’ve been “villainized”.

Big Daddy, big heart

Keep current with Vaud & the Villains at www.vaudandthevillains.com. While they have a few mid-western and New England dates on the books for this summer (getting 15-19 pieces on the road can’t be easy), you can catch them in town March 31^st at Club Fais Do-Do.

Seriously 'phunked at The Mint

Dumpstaphunk is slippery, stinky, smelly, funked up stuff. It says so in the name. We get it, but just to make sure nobody misses the point, Nick Daniels III and Tony Hall lock up dueling basses at every D-phunk gig. The prowess of the players is unquestioned, the history and Neville legacy familiar. Ivan’s indulgences and 14 years sobriety. His time as a Stones/Richards sideman. The fat Hammond sound and rich vocals he’s cultivated with Dumpstaphunk since 2003, along with numerous other projects and collaborations. Cousin Ian carrying the torch with the Funky Meters. Tony Hall’s double barreled Strat/bass attack and emcee theatrics. Nick Daniel’s III’s powerful digits. New addition Nikki GIaspie’s huge resume and Berklee chops. It all adds up to a solid unit that puts it in the dumpsta night in, night out.

Tony Hall, two basses are badder

Back in the day, Ivan Neville had more than a few residencies at The Mint and he’s no stranger to LA these days, either. The last time I caught Dumpstaphunk in town, they headlined a double bill with Rebirth at the Roxy and the energy was crazy. This time around, they were playing a room half that size over two nights. Scary. The LA dates kicked off a March tour schedule more demanding than a 2012 NBA road trip (14 dates in 24 days in California and the southeast). Dumpsta’s latest, Everybody Want Sum, was released in November and Jazzfest is around the corner, so I was counting on a good night. And with tunes like “Greasy Groceries”, “Stinky”, “Standing in Your Stuff” and “Everybody Want Sum” in the repertoire, I’m pretty sure ballads were checked at the door.

Ivan Neville at The Mint

The Thursday show I caught didn’t get going until minutes before Friday. From the get go, the band was sticky tight. Between the Hall/Daniels III twin bass attack and Ivan’s clavinet, the ‘phunk felt plenty good. “Everybody Want Sum” from the new album has a perfect R&B soul hook that could be easily mistaken as a Sly Stone cover and featured nice Hammond work from Ivan Neville. The rubbery dual bass mixed well with Ian Neville’s right on top of the beat rhythm work. With “Blueswave”, Dumpsta moved to an almost Texas like stomp and some gritty Strat slinging by Tony Hall.

Nikki Glaspie holding it down

The stew really started to simmer closer to 1 AM, as affirmed by a crowd yell of “taking it to a whole other level!” And that was before the band even launched into “Deeper” (from Everybody Want Sum) > “Put It in the Dumpsta” (a D-phunk staple). Ivan Neville and Tony Hall turned “Dumpsta” into the best kind of group therapy, totally groove heavy with some healthy demon exorcising for good measure. “Living in a World Gone Mad” (from the 2007 EP, Listen Hear) brought guest Val McCallum to the stage (Jacksh*t, Lucinda Williams), and McCallum tore into his solos with sufficient fury to smoke out the room, clearly enjoying trading lines with Ivan’s Hammond. The gloppy dual bass interplay was especially pungent with the jam rock feel of “Lt. Dan” and the pre-encore set closed with the almost gospelly hinted call and response of “Meanwhile” (from Listen Hear).

Over the years I’ve been to my share of Dumpsta shows, and often took them for granted as just another NOLA side project that dependably delivered. The Mint gig brought me back into the fold with deeper appreciation for the band. High energy and high impact, drawing funk influences from the best of the Meters, James Brown, Sly Stone, Prince and countless others to shape their sound with precision and soul. Meaty stuff. Don’t miss them at Jazzfest.

Ivan Neville, Jazzfest 2010

Sunny Jain at the Jazz and Heritage Stage, 2011 jazzfest

The cultural reach of New Orleans music makes for a different kind of eclectic. Blender eclectic. Not every combination hits the sweet spot but the willingness to try anything out mirrors New Orleans resilience, roots and diversity to a tee. Where else could native Swedes Anders Osborne and Theresa Andersonn plant themselves and flourish like native Orleaneans. Or birth the New Orleans Klezmer All-Stars with their devoted legion of revelers to what can only be described as ethnically steeped music that approaches jam rock peaks, while remaining firmly grounded in both their New Orleans roots and Yiddish melodies. You couldn’t make this stuff up.

The latest in this jambalaya tradition of mixing cultures and sounds to catch my ear is Red Baraat (Baraat is the Hindi word for wedding procession). Self described as a “Brooklyn dhol n’ brass band”. The Village Voice dubbed them “raucous Indian bhangra and funky New Orleans brass”. My best shot to the uninitiated is NOLA brass’n’drums strained through hot curry. The adjectives fly hard and fast with these guys, and for good reason.  Perhaps the band’s web bio says it best “… led by dhol player, Sunny Jain, the nine piece comprised of dhol (double-sided barrel shaped North Indian drum slung over one shoulder) drumset, percussion, sousaphone and five horns, melds the infectious North Indian rhythm Bhangra with a host of sounds, namely funk, go-go, latin, and jazz. Simply put, Sunny Jain and Red Baraat have created and defined a sound entirely their own.” Yikes (and couldn’t agree more)!

So, I caught Red Baraat at the Jazz and Heritage Stage at last year’s Jazzfest upon hearing they “killed it in Lafayette” the day before and were not to be missed. Heck, they had me at traditional Hindi drums and trumpets, but “killed it in Lafayette” put me over the top. Throw them in front of a Jazz and Heritage crowd towards the end of the first Sunday and I was there, even if as much out of curiosity as musical expectation.

I’ve been anticipating how my Red Baraat experience would translate from the Louisiana sun to the living room intimacy of The Mint, ever since the show was announced in mid-January. With one studio album to their credit (2010’s Chaal Baby) an imminent follow-up (Shruggy Ji) and a live album (Bootleg Bhangra) from their Brooklyn turf, Red Baraat has plenty of material to draw from. This is a band I am getting to know by feel and infectious spirit, not a set list.

As the 10 PM start time pushed closer to 10:30, the crowd filled in and not your usual Saturday night Westside mashup for a change. This was the first real West Coast swing for the band with dates in Santa Cruz and San Francisco before their Mint gig.

Altogether now, "Chaal baby"

Sunny Jain stood center stage flanked by reeds on his right, brass on his left and percussion behind him. From the get go, the room was filled with swirling brass and horns fed by blazing eastern rhythms and a sousaphone anchor. Yeah, it made perfect sense. “Chaal Baby” from their debut of the same name jumped straight into a deep percussive groove mixing Tomas Fujiwara’s traps, Jain’s dhol and Rohin Khameni’s percussion that had everyone’s hands up and feet moving. “Baraat to Nowhere”, also from Chaal Baby, was chunky enough to bring sousaphonist John Alteiri to the front to blow and rap (both part of his job description, according to his band bio). The fast and furious “Tunak Tunak Tun”, from Chaal Baby, featured some dazzling soprano turns by Alex Hamlin. At the end of the tune, the vibe of the crowd was nicely expressed by a distinct “fuck, yeah!” from the floor. “Shruggy Ji”, from the soon to drop second album of the same name, started with a brief dirge-like decoy, then kicked into a brass driven bluesy swing that wouldn’t be out of place at a second line funeral. The set closed with “Private Dancers” featuring the brass section of Sonny Singh (trumpet), MiWi La Lupa (bass trumpet) and Ernest Stuart (trombone) in high gear. The rap infused piece showcased Mike Bromwell’s baritone growling at just the right bandwidth (as he did all night) with Sonny Singh putting his jazz chops on full display (more impressive as he was somewhat under the weather).  The encore capped the nine-song set with more dexterous soprano work by Alex Hamlin.

Not your father's dhol'n'brass

Time changes were rare – rather, Red Baraat swung and stayed with their beats from the beginning with start/stop tension gratifying enough to bust out a smoke and ask for their number. Sunny Jain was the perfect host for this affair, the complexion of his dhol adding rhythmic texture and pulse not traditionally found in a brass heavy context, yet echoing a marching band’s snare in other moments.  His energizer spirit was uncontainable throughout, both band and audience in perpetual celebration.

Sonny Singh, MiWI LaLupa and Ernest Stuart

A band like Red Baraat shows us that music is truly a world party and that borders are overrated. Who’d a thunk? This is a buzz in the best sense of the word. Live from planet earth, not to be missed.

Sunny and Sonny

www.redbaraat.com

Aaron Wilkinson

You couldn’t miss it. She was vintage. All black and chrome. Gleaming under the streetlight. Probably mid-80s, but who knows. The guys had a bus. Rolling from gig to gig in comfort, if not style. Not flashy. The sight of that thing parked smack in front of the Mint on Pico (couldn’t fit it in around back) was pretty sweet. Not about ego, all about pride. For a band that has been a staple at Jazzfest for years and hitting their stride, it had to feel pretty good to be back in LA under their own power.

Chris Mule and Garland Paul

After making their Southland debut last June (see my post of that show deeper in this blog), HISB returned with a generous (2+ hour) Friday night set. The tunes are familiar, the vibe upbeat. Everyone seems to leave an HISB gig pretty damn happy.

Sam Price, sharp dressed man

The band is back in the studio aiming for a late spring release to add to their 3 album catalog (their eponymous 2007 EP, 2009’s Wishing Well and 2010’s Good To You), and the set had generous helpings from all their material. The raucous “Till the Money’s Gone”, the jammy “Wishing Well” and the front porch fun of “Natural Born Fool (all from Wishing Well) made for a satisfying night in themselves.  And “Josephine” and “Country Girl” from Good to You took a little bit of the February chill off with a summer kegger for grown ups feel. Strains of Black Crowes, Steve Miller, Petty, even the Eagles, stirred in with the band’s bayou roots give HISB some real kick that’s original, not derivative.

Aaron Wilkinson and Sam Price, front porch style

No horns for this performance, so the sound was a little leaner than their last Mint show (which featured Karl Denson working on all cylinders). All the more room to showcase Chris Mule’s slippery slide work and the brotherly interplay between Mule and Aaron Wilkinson. Sam Price’s usual stage exuberance was matched by his pulsing lock step work with Garland Paul and the rest of the band, including Trevor Brooks on keys, who added a lot of flavor throughout the night.

Chris Mule, a man and his Strat

The encore set ended with shots for the band. Well earned. Their ride wasn’t going anywhere and their dorm room was steps away. Nothing like Sunday dawn on Pico Boulevard. Seriously good times. More to come.

Galactic hitting the G spot after midnight

Bill Graham spoiled me. The man knew how to throw a New Year’s party. 4-5 hours of cosmic Dead jams, epic substance abuse and 6,000 or so of my newest friends. The calendar would turn, Uncle Bobo would descend, Sugar Mag would kick in and all was right with the world. OK, so that was 30 years ago. Still, that ecstatic pull set a high bar few 12/31s have matched since. These days when milestones are counted in decades, New Year’s is often kept in quieter company and places, and indulgence swapped for reflection. But damn, the echo still haunts and the spirit craves a hit that only a hard wired all night jam or funk groove can provide. Add a few hundred people (or thousands or multiples thereof) primed to kick last year in the ass and anything’s possible. Call me a seeker.

2012 becomes Stanton Moore

Such was my latest NOLA pilgrimage that landed me at Tip’s in the waning hours of 2011 for Galactic’s annual year-end bash. With Eric Lindell’s Trio opening and billed guests including Anders Osborne, Corey Henry from Rebirth and Corey Glover of Living Colour (both Coreys vets of the last Galactic tour), prospects for New Year’s salvation seemed reasonable. Galactic’s newest release “Carnivale Electricos” is described by the band’s web site as a “carnival record that evokes the electric atmosphere of … whole cities – vibrating together all on the same day”.  Sounds pretty 3 AMy to me. Throw Anders Osborne and Lindell into the mix and confidence was high going in.

What 12:01:01 looks like

Lindell’s trio delivered a healthy solid set to get the room closer to midnight. Spirits were high as the last hour of 2011 approached and the crowd was appropriately exuberant (deliberate choice of words).  Galactic landed with “Boban” (from the 2011 release, The Other Side of Midnight:Live From New Orleans) and didn’t let up from there, in what turned out to be the first of (count ‘em) 3 sets.  “Hey Na Na” from “Carnivale Electricos” cranked up the energy a little before midnight when we all reverted to the timelessness of Auld Lang Syne because we could and that’s what you do. 2012 was inaugurated with Lindell joining Galactic to romp through Steve Miller’s “Jet Airliner”, a killer cover that gets better each time Lindell busts it out. Other first set highlights had Corey Glover working the crowd into a lather (and in an argyle sweater vest, no less) with “Heart of Steel” (from 2010’s “Ya-Ka-May) and Stanton Moore elevating for the first time in the show.

Going all night long

Announced guest Anders Osborne went straight for “Darkness at the Bottom” (from his 2010 American Patchwork release) to start Set 2, one of my favorite rip your soul open Osborne tunes. Jonny Sansone joined Anders with just plain nasty harmonica turns on his own “The Lord is Waiting and the Devil Is Too” (from the 2011 release of the same name). Anders and Sansone stuck around to cover “Who Took the Happiness” (featured on Moore’s 2008 release, Take It to the Street) to wrap up a killer set within a set. Much of the second set featured Corey Glover, but the band really had me with a loose and frenzied “Manic Depression”. Ben Ellman moving from baritone to ballsy harp wasn’t too shabby either.

Anders Osborne and Stanton Moore, brilliant "Darkness"

With just enough in the tank to start the third set, I profess to not making it all the way to the end, but an appropriately funky cover of Lee Dorsey’s/Allen Touissant’s “Night People” and the Arabian-brass-prog-metal tinged flavor of “Garbage Truck”(from The Other Side of Midnight) were perfectly suited for the hour. Somewhere along the way Corey Henry stepped into the crowd and climbed atop the bar never missing a note. Exhausted, satiated, I left Tip’s past 3, ready to take on a new year. Spiritual awakening, nah. Uplift, hell yeah. That’s good enough for me. Think I’m ready to kick some 2012 ass now.

Corey Henry works the room

Stanton Moore, Robert Mercurio and Ivan Neville in full swing at the Mint

“Supergroups” are described by Wikipedia as one “whose performers are already famous from having performed individually or in other groups”, citing a 1974 Time article that such configurations are an “amalgam formed by the talented malcontents of other bands”. Wiki does not know all, but the concept of taking a bunch of disparate talents of some repute, throwing them together and expecting them to live up to their progeny is typically a recipe for failure, or at least a really lame experiment (or an overt attempt to cash in). They’re not always stinkers, as this year’s “SuperHeavy” project, or the legacy of the “Travelling Wilburys”, and even “Blind Faith” exemplify. But what some may call a “supergroup” is often just another night in NOLA during Jazzfest, when the best of the NOLA music scene can’t stay away from each other and keep going ‘til dawn cracks the sky. These loose jam sessions don’t always click. Overly familiar material, too much noodling and no cohesion are not unusual. But other nights, magic gets sprinkled and familiar material becomes musical epoxy for epic jamming that can’t be bottled, or more daring tunes work their way into the mix. NOLA musicians form so many different constellations during the Fest it borders on incest, but it really is just the natural order for players who love to flat out play wherever, whenever they can.

Stanton Moore, he gets around

Which brings me to Dragon Smoke. Neville. Moore. Lindell. Mercurio. Names not as familiar west of the Mississippi, but NOLA royalty be it as Galactic, Dumpstaphunk, the Nevilles, Lindell, Garage a Trois and others. Formed in 2003, they have played every Fest since, but rarely travel west to bring their 3 AM spirit around a corner that’s not on Frenchmen, Napoleon, Peters or Oak. The lineage speaks propulsive, jammy funk meets soulful vocals as one would expect with the Galactic rhythm section, stinging Lindell leads, swampy Neville keys and alternating Neville/Lindell voices.

Ivan Neville, smoke and fire

At Wednesday’s Dragon Smoke gig at The Mint, I went looking to see if the whole would be bigger than the sum of its parts, and whether the vibe and sound would be more of the loose one-off of funk covers variety, or filled with the swagger and punch of seasoned vets excited to find a fresh voice.  Surprise.  From the first tune through last of two full sets, the band played as a singular unit totally conversant with each other, and were tight, tight, tight all night long.  Opening with Lindell’s “Country Livin’”, (from his 2009 Gulf Coast Highway release) these guys jumped right in and never let up.  Lindell was in strong voice and coaxed the right twang out of his SG (not an easy thing to do), trading licks with Ivan Neville, then stopping on a dime for a cascade of Stanton Moore fills.  The straight up funk of Dyke & the Blazers “Let a Woman Be a Woman” nicely showcased Ivan’s straight from the early 80s clavinet chops.  Lindell’s “It Won’t Be Long” (from the 2006 release, Change in the Weather) and Ivan’s father Aaron’s “Hercules” continued the nice back/forth between Lindell and Neville arranged tunes. Ivan and Stanton Moore brought some nice seasoning to “Injuns, Here They Come”, with Moore’s snare really leading the way.  Later in the set, Neville brought just the right touch of churchy keys to complement Lindell’s Anders-esque vocals on the tender “Lullaby for Mercy Ann” (from Gulf Coast Highway). The first set closed with a rollicking and hard edged cover of Steve Miller’s “Jet AirLiner”.  So far, so good.

Eric Lindell, his tunes, chops and vocals right at home with Dragon Smoke

After a refreshingly reasonable break, the band returned for the next set.  Despite pushing midnight for a mid-week show, everyone stuck around, and no doubt, glad they did.  The second set had deeper grooves, and some extended playing.  Not loose single-minded solo excursions, but concise all for one explorations that allowed the quartet to settle into just the right pocket with each other.  A cover of Bill Withers’ “Grandma’s Hands” had some great moments, especially slinking around every note of Ivan’s clav and keys, creating plenty of space for Lindell, Moore and Mercurio to reach, punch and throw more into the stew.  Delicious.  Lindell’s “Lucky, Lucky” (from the 2011 release, West County Drifter) brought a “Sugaree” reminiscent feel with some compact and very tasty turns on his SG.  The jazz-blues inflected “Valerie” (made famous by Amy Winehouse) was perfectly suited to the Dragon Smoke treatment and covers of “Slippin’ Into Darkness” and “Papa Was a Rolling Stone” were completely gratifying.  The set wrapped with Lindell’s “It’s a Pity (from his 2009 release Low on Cash, Rich in Love) with the sickest jam of the night – all four guys just hugging the minor 7^th-ish change for all it’s worth.  Everyone stretching out one more time, the whole unit bringing an almost Derek & the Dominoes cum NOLA infused feel to the Lindell tune. That’s high praise. The band came back for the upbeat soul of Lindell’s “Nothin’ Can Stop Me” to cap it off.

Stanton Moore at The Mint

Far from being thrown together, the four musicians that make up Dragon Smoke are meant to play together – each bringing something to complement and wring the best out of the other.  They just fit. The band intends to lay down some tracks soon, but in the meantime their recently released live CD, “Live in New Orleans” is available on Amazon and iTunes, and features many of the songs featured at The Mint.

Ivan Neville and Dragon Smoke, a beautiful relationship

Some songs, some artists, never go away. That’s not always a good thing. Times change, everyone ages, life gets tougher or better, and we go on. Since I was probably all of 8 the first time I heard “For What It’s Worth”, I was too young to really understand it, but still old enough to feel something. I knew the world was pissed off and somehow I grasped that music was more than a soundtrack to the events around me.

At a recent stop on Stephen Stills’ Fall tour, the 60-something Hall of Famer (twice, on the same night) introduced “For What It’s Worth” as for the “99s”. It’s 2011, the world is still angry and artists from Tom Morello to Crosby and Nash have taken up musical arms with OWS. Some songs age well, even if the audience and performers don’t. Some find new life in new times.

I wore the grooves down on every CSN/Y platter in all their permutations. The harmonies were the hook, but Stills’ fret mastery reeled me in and I’ve been an admirer of his playing and songwriting ever since. His wah-wah laced exchanges with Clapton on “Go Back Home” and dark blues encrusted wailing on “Black Queen” (from his eponymous debut) are still chill inducing, and I’ve no argument with his ranking at 47 among Rolling Stone’s top 100 guitarists. Sure, CSN had me (and the rest of humanity) at “Suite Judy Blues Eyes”. Only it was Stills’ intense, flying, punctuated acoustic work, more than the soaring vocals of the three that gripped me. That just about every instrumental track off their debut album was handled by Stills is often overlooked.

The light/dark tableau of Crosby/Nash harmonies and Stills/Young fury, fueled jams and music tabloids for decades to come, and the CSN/Y dance often played out like overripe “Behind the Music”. CSN’s constant touring could be taken for a creaky nostalgia trip some years, but collectively and apart, they all kept coming back to that well, and still do (their aborted covers project will hopefully have a life after producer Rick Rubin’s departure). Earlier this year saw a brief tour under the Springfield banner with the Stills/Young chemistry fully intact. The sight of these two getting in each other’s faces while scorching through “Bluebird” was something to behold. The slimmed down Stills was on his game and ready for anything Shakey threw at him. Neither backed down and the interplay was still furiously epic.

Some serious Strat slinging from Stephen Stills

Stills has been on the road the past month or so with East and West Coast dates and set lists sprinkling in a few unexpected covers (Dylan to Mudcrutch) with the usual Springfield, CSN, Manassas, Stills touchstones. With no LA dates scheduled, I headed to Anaheim for the show at the City National Grove.  Backed by long-time CSN drummer (and Joe Walsh alum) Joe Vitale, Todd Caldwell on keys and Kenny Passarelli on bass (new rule – matador pants do not = rock fashion), Stills launched right into “Bluebird” to kick off the first of two sets to a packed house. Switching to his trademark Gretsch for “Helplessly Hoping”, he established a relaxed, warm tone that flowed throughout the first set. His vocals have been road worn and ragged in recent years but he was far from dialing it in. To the contrary, he reached and pushed through his more limited range with conviction and emotion. Pegi Young joined Stills for “Long May You Run”. He seemed delighted to share the stage for the signature tune from the only collaboration under the Stills-Young name. Stills shared stories throughout the night, including his purchase of a rather large home replete with gardener ala Peter Sellers (in fact, it’s former owner was indeed, Peter Sellers) – cute trivia to tee up “Jonny’s Garden” from the first Manassas album. Stills then went unplugged for “So Begins the Task” and a beautiful take on Dylan’s “Girl From the North Country” that has been a staple of this brief tour. The latter with simple single note soloing that suitably echoed the longing of the bard’s lyrics. “Blind Fiddler” followed, a forlorn traditional tune well suited for Stills’ repertoire. That the set would close with the inevitable “Suite Judy Blue Eyes” was established earlier when Stills alluded to Judy Collins recent book portraying him as “nicer than he really was”. That it would be bookended with Stills’ solo reading of the Beatles “Within You, Without You” was unexpected, and I found, a little gutsy. By the time familiar passages of SJBE rolled over the crowd, the balding 50-something dude in the front and the barely 20-ish dude with the lid a few rows back were singing in sync. Stills respectfully reached for the higher notes and nailed a few, at which he paused with a rehearsed admonition of, “I’m just as astonished as you are”.

Stills and Young in harmony

After a brief break approaching many of the elder demo’s bedtime, Stills and band returned for a more up tempo set that kicked off with a spunky version of “Woodstock”, his playing generating some real sparks while working his way up the neck of the vintage Strat. A languid “Southern Cross” included a few obvious flubs in his soloing that didn’t seem to bother anyone, though Stills appropriately stepped back from the edge of the stage at just the right moment. Having arrived at that point in the show where he would really cut loose was signified by Stills taking off and pocketing his specs before the predictable blues roll of “Wounded World” (from his last solo album, 2005’s “Stills Alive”) into “Rocky Mountain Way”, with Stills and the crowd clearly having a good time with this. “Want to Make Love To You”  (also from the Stills-Young “Long May You Run”) began with jazz inflected picking, trademark muted soloing and understated whammy flourishes. Like many of the best, he knows when touch trumps burn. By this time, Stills returned to prowling the front of the stage and playing to the crowd to close with “Love the One You’re With” (group hug, anyone?). Much lore surrounds Buffalo Springfield and “For What It’s Worth” (those words never appear in the lyrics) and there is no other encore for a Stills show. There shouldn’t be – the power of the lyrics fermenting with contemporary context.  Stills grabbed all of it, driving the song with a slow cook and heavy reverb that lingered well after the lights went up.

Kenny Passarelli and Todd Caldwell getting behind a Stills solo

Pegi Young and the Survivors opened the show with a set featuring songs from her just released third album “Bracing for Impact”, with fine backing by Muscle Shoals and session vet Spooner Oldham on keys, Kevin Holly on guitar, Phil Jones on drums and LA fixture Rick “the Bass Player” Rosas (late of the very brief Springfield reunion and husband Neil Young’s recent tours).  Holly shredded up “Bracing’s” “Lie” early on and the set featured a touching cover of the late Danny Whitten’s “I Don’t Want to Talk About It”.

Ms. Pegi and Rick the bass player

Those of us in this middle mojo of life have kept the concert industry going by supporting the same acts for the past 30 years. Some of us fare better than others as the orbits pile up. It ain’t about staying young. Stephen Stills brought all that he had to an appreciative audience basking in tunes they know by heart and can’t get enough of.  Not exactly a tearing the roof off night, but kicking a little age appropriate ass felt alright for all.  I probably was not the only one thinking, long may we run, as I made my way to the door.

Stephen Stills, the songs and the playing endure