The Slide Brothers at Royce Hall

We’re all told to respect our elders, to learn from the generation before and to pass along tradition. Wise words musically speaking, and fundamental to any jazz or blues playbook where family legacies span generations and old sounds are regularly rediscovered and reimagined.

Now, I hail from about as far from a Pentecostal upbringing as one would expect for a ‘60s kid raised in the relative comfort of a West Los Angeles lifestyle. But when I heard Robert Randolph for the first time, I was floored. I had no clue about the roots of Sacred Steel in the church tradition, but the Hendrix like intensity he brought to the pedal steel was pretty religious in my book and I’ve been a fan ever since.

Randolph’s latest project, the Slide Brothers, pays homage to those roots. Randolph has brought together the “greatest living musicians who embody the Sacred Steel tradition” (as described on the Slide Brothers’ web site), a tradition that dates to Depression era times where steel/slide guitar and vocal melodies were all but interchangeable in church music. Calvin Cooke, Chuck Campbell, Darick Campbell and Aubrey Ghent are the Slide Brothers – a direct legacy to a musical tradition rarely heard beyond church walls. Randolph, himself a son of a deacon and a minister, saw to it that the world gets to hear these guys with the release of the self-titled debut studio album and this current tour (with dates in California and Nevada). I hadn’t heard any of the album before the show, but the mix of material from the Allman Brothers and George Harrison to more traditional spirituals sounded awfully good to me.

The Slide Brothers (with Carlton Campbell on drums and Randolph regular Ray Holloman on bass, but without Darick Campbell) got into position with the pedal steels of Randolph and Chuck Campbell bookending Calvin Cooke and Aubrey Ghent, who played their lap steels on stands (Cooke plays the same instrument his mother bought for him to this day). That’s a whole lot of strings on stage and anticipation of their confluence was obvious. Not something you are going to hear or see, well, err, almost ever.

Calvin Cooke, “the B.B. King of gospel steel guitar”

Youngin’, Robert Randolph

Aubrey Ghent, nephew of Willie Eason who started it all

The set was way more blues rowdy than pew churchy, and shifted into high gear early. Many Sacred Steel players start as drummers, and the percussive gallop of a trap kit boogied easily on the Brothers strings. I also finally got how the steel guitar voice can stand in for so many others and I swear I heard sax, harp and vocal (especially low strings for baritone) lines at many points. The set generously focused on the debut album including the Elmore James staple, “The Sky is Crying”, and the Brothers really tore into the ZZ Top like stomp of “Help Me Make It Through” with Calvin Cooke sharing some life perspective along the way. But with Randolph’s thwacka-thwacka intro to Hendrix’s “Voodoo Chile” the place took off and the power Randolph and the Brothers brought to the tune was magnified many times over to cyclone like intensity (no surprise that the band was featured as part of the Hendrix Experience tribute tour last year and, as I just learned, the new album is produced by Eddie Kramer, who twisted knobs on some of Hendrix’s most famous recordings). By the end of the set, the audience was on its feet with hands up high and a distinct Sunday morning feel in the air. Randolph switched to his Tele (as he did earlier in the set), and as the band left the stage, he kept going from the wings (and of course, circled back with all of the band to close it out). The Slide Brothers encored with a stirring cover of the Allman’s “Don’t Keep Me Wonderin’” (ironic for me, hearing Greg Allman do his tune in the same room last month) and the oft-covered classic “It Hurts Me Too”.

Chuck Campbell on pedal steel, nephew Carlton Campbell on drums

Randolph and Cooke on their feet, with Ray Holloman and Carlton Campbell

While at times it was difficult to sort out the solos from seated players on a slightly elevated stage, the sound of so much grit and slide, sweet and burn, all mashed together with such intuition was stunning. It must really be something for Randolph to share the stage with the progenitors of Sacred Steel he so revered as a young musician.

Robert Randolph, standing tall among giants

The roots of the Slide Brothers are largely non-secular, but they are making music for everybody to hear and celebrate. That is worth praising whatever your beliefs.

The Otis Taylor Band opened the show underway with their unique style of “trance blues”. Taylor, who spent many years away from recording until 1996, just released his 13^th album, “My World is Gone” on Concord Music. Their set was moody and meditatively jammy, yet didn’t peg with anything rote or traditional. This was not a push/pull, light/dark blues take, but much more of an ebb and flow that was entirely captivating (of course, he did manage to throw “Hey, Joe” in there, too). The Taylor Band includes Anne Harris on fiddle, Shawn Starski on guitar, Todd Edmunds on bass and Larry Thompson on drums. Harris’ lively stage presence, and slippery-fiery playing (with no doubt some serious classical background) thoroughly enriched the set. Props to UCLA’s Center for the Art of Performance (CAP) for pairing the Otis Taylor Band with the Slide Brothers.

Trance blueser Otis Taylor, with Shawn Starski

Anne Harris, exuberant in attire, performance and playing

Greg Allman at Royce Hall

Gregg Allman’s life is a road well travelled for sure. As much thriver as survivor, his blues have the resume to match (40+ years on the road and hard knocks you wouldn’t wish on anyone). Last year’s T-Bone Burnett produced “Low Country Blues” is a seminal record that embodies the sum of Allman’s musical lives in roadhouse ramble, swampy Muscle Shoals drenched horns and his all the way at the bottom looking up vocals. You can feel the miles and hear the fight breaking out in the back.

Like many of his musical peers, Allman has gone open kimono on his life and times with the autobiography “My Cross to Bear” released last year, continuing a trend of influential musicians (Keith Richards, Neil Young, Pete Townsend, most notably) sharing internal reflections, creative insights and the occasionally rowdy it could only happen to this rock star story. Sure, there are more salacious aspects one would expect in these memoirs (and, yes, Richards “Life” is hard to put down), but more powerfully, there is honesty and a peak behind the curtain from guys with less sand in the hourglass and their eyes on the clock. In Allman’s case (as he told Spinner last year), his was not so much of a book as an ongoing journal over 30 years. Seeing Greg Allman on the talk show circuit openly engaging on his life, his approach to the blues, his marriages, his run-ins with former band mate Dickey Betts, was disarmingly real and surreal at the same time. But what struck me was an almost vampiric need to keep playing as long as he has a pulse. That urgency is not unique to Allman, but it is palpable and poignant.

Greg Allman behind his B3

Just after the release of “Low Country Blues”, Allman played the Blues Tent at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival in 2011, competing against the orchestral strains of Arcade Fire from the neighboring Acura Stage. It was a sweaty, satisfying and enthusiastically received set with three-piece horns that moved between rearranged ABB material and Allman solo tunes including several from “Low Country Blues” (Allman’s JamBase interview before the Fest is good reading).

Allman had some health issues last year, but he has been road ready for a while with a swing through the south including a New Year’s Eve stop at the House of Blues in New Orleans and a date at Nashville’s hallowed Ryman Auditorium. His Royce Hall performance is part of a California/Nevada stretch that includes San Diego, Vegas, San Francisco, Napa and Tahoe.

Royce Hall is a gracious space (think more jazz and classical, than roadhouse blues) that gave the evening a relaxed feel, and there was a lot of Allman joy in the air as the band strode onstage to B.B. King on the PA. The current band features Scott Sharrard on guitar, Bruce Katz on keys, Jay Collins on horns, Steve Potts on drums, Jerry Jemmott on bass and Floyd Miles on percussion and vocals, and the 2-hour set was a group effort from start to finish. Allman alternated between guitar and his B3 throughout the night and anyone expecting ABB intensity from a Greg Allman show should check their expectations at the door.

Allman and the band played two hours of ABB and Allman solo material

The love for the bandleader was apparent after the opener, “I’m No Angel” with a (male) yell of “you sound sweet, Greg!” from the back rows. About a third of the 19 song set was ABB material and the rest from the deeper Greg Allman recorded and touring catalogue, ranging from a cover of Jackson Browne’s “These Days” (with an appropriate weary tenderness) to crowd pleasers “Melissa” and “Midnight Rider”. “Statesboro Blues” appeared early in the set and showed some kick to the delight of the ABB diehards. Floyd Miles, who Allman has “played with since he was 14” took the band through the blues flavors of Muddy Waters “I Can’t Be Satisfied” and two from his 1994 release, “Back to Daytona”. Allman’s daughter Layla held her own on a cover of Elmore James’ “The Sky is Crying” and Dad dug a little deeper swapping vocals with his daughter. “Wasted Words” was punchy as all get out, with Bruce Katz’s spiky keys, Jay Collins tenor and Scott Sharrard’s fretwork fully jelling. Guest bassist Tal Wilkenfeld stepped in for “Just Before the Bullets Fly” (from Allman’s 1988 release of the same name) and “Midnight Rider”(Wilkenfeld is a phenomenal player who was going toe-to-toe with Jeff Beck at barely 20). “Bullets” was another high point of the night and Wilkenfeld’s presence certainly took it up a notch. “Rider” had Collins layering in flute lines and Katz added just the right touch of Rhodes work to evoke the frozen in time feel of the tune. A slow burn of “Whipping Post” was far from the tempest of the ABB (of any era), but Collins’ sax, the rhythm section of Potts and Lamott, and Sharrard’s wah-wah, brought the set to a satisfying finish.

Jay Collins, tenor, baritone, flute and musical director

Bruce Katz out front with the Greg Allman band

The rhythm section of Jerry Lemott and Steve Potts

Allman came back with “Floating Bridge” (the Sleepy John Estes cover that opens “Low Country Blues”) and seemed to find something extra in this song about being pulled under the muddy river. “One Way Out” put the show to bed, another horn-centric arrangement of a classic ABB tune and a chance for Sharrard to flash his slide work. Any player in Sharrard’s spot has to beat down the ghosts of ABB slingers past and present and Sharrard brought the right amount of fire, fuzz and respect to the Allman repertoire throughout the night.  After all, the ABB is a guitar oriented bunch and the Greg Allman Band is not. Sharrard rose to the challenge.

Scott Sharrard, fire, fuzz and respect

Allman has hit some rough road along the way and parts of his life read like lines from much of the Elmore James material he plays. While the evening was more subdued then raucous, Greg Allman appears to be on his game and the affection of his fans (not just ABB fans) has only grown. There’s thriver and survivor in all of us. That’s what makes the blues so relatable. Greg Allman is living proof.

Greg Allman

All eyes are on Ivan Neville during Dragon Smoke’s rare gig at The Mint

Certain celestial alignments skip decades, if not lifetimes, or at a minimum, involve covering great distances at greater expense. Think solar eclipses, Comet Hale-Bopp or if you get around, the aurora. Even then, there is the unexpected cloud cover that can scotch the most anticipated and well-planned events. While the intersection of talent that is Dragon Smoke may not operate on a celestial plane, the fact the band exists, let alone has endured for a decade, is pretty damn impressive. Comprised of the Galactic’s drummer Stanton Moore and bassist Robert Mercurio, guitarist/songwriter Eric Lindell and funk master Ivan Neville on keys and vocals, the band is a potential one-off that never offed. 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. They deliver that and then some.

Dragon Smoke’s/Galactic’s rhythm section of Stanton Moore and Robert Mercurio

The demanding tour schedules of Galactic, Dumpstaphunk and Lindell, coupled with additional musical pursuits, make the right place/right time convergence of the four principals slightly more frequent than a Cubs post-season appearance, or at least cause for celebration. Yet, the band has been a fixture for 10+ years on the Tuesday between Jazzfest weekends, while managing to pop up for rare winter forays west of the Mississippi, including another December gig at The Mint as part of a 5-date West Coast-ish swing. Their show last year killed and was of one the room’s most memorable of 2011.

Ivan Neville having a good time at The Mint

The musical affection between the players is obvious from the get-go. Like a family reunion where you don’t see enough of each other, stay up all night, then go on with your lives until the next one. The material is generously shared and enthusiastically played. And while many similar collaborations often lose focus, tread on reputation or simply go sideways, these guys play for keeps. It sure doesn’t feel or sound like a side project.

Robert Mercurio with Dragon Smoke

Opening with the country ramble feel of “Sunday Morning”, the trademark swapping of Lindell and Neville led tunes jumped right into the Dyke and the Blazers funk of “Let a Woman, Be a Woman” with Stanton Moore sneaking in a NOLA brass snare rhythm between a barrel full of fills, and Neville chomping at his clavs and working his B3. Funky, fun, and delicious. The stutter step blues rock of Lindell’s “Country Livin’” (from 2009’s “Gulf Coast Highway”) sounded pretty damn good, accented by Neville’s Hammond runs and Moore’s cascades, and the War-like soul of father Aaron’s “Hercules” brought things back to an appropriate simmer. A couple of Lindell tunes followed, including “Two Bit Town” (from 2006’s “Change in the Weather” and the pretty “Lullaby for Mercy Ann” (from “Gulf Coast Highway”). The Meters were in the room with “Out in the Country” (“nobody plays it like this” professed Neville), before Lindell stretched out with the breezy “Valerie” (a Zutons’ song most notably covered by the late Amy Winehouse). The first set closed with Gerald Tillman’s (aka, Professor Shorthair) “Padlock” (from Neville’s 1995 “Thanks”) anchored by Neville’s B3 and clav blend punctuated by Lindell’s needle stick delivery and a perfect Meters-esque groove over the lines “somebody’s been sleepin’ in my bed”.

Eric Lindell, stinging leads and soulful vocals

More Moore is always good

The sold out room had a climate closer to a Bikram yoga class than the cool rainy weather outside, so some oxygen was in order for the break. By the time the band returned for their second set, everyone was a bit more refreshed and most stayed.

The clav-B3 combo of Ivan Neville fueled both sets

The 10-song set went appropriately deeper than the first. Bill Withers’ “Grandma’s Hands” began with spare soulful “uh-huhs” from Neville and built into a creeping, slippery jam that had the crowd singing the “like the way you work it” chorus part of the tune. One of the night’s high points, for sure. The band brought a relaxed loping ‘tude to the Mardi Gras Indian driven “Indians, Here Dey Come” and even a touch of Dead influence meets NOLA backbeat to it, thanks to some Jerry-like inflections from Lindell and Moore’s expansive snare vocabulary. Another Lindell tune, “Won’t Be Long” (from “Change in the Weather”) featured a slow voltage bridge and blue-eyed soul progression that lives in Lindell’s wheelhouse. “Slippin’ Into Darkness” is such a natural cover for the band, they should have written the classic. All the pieces fit just right. Dropping in a “Get Up, Stand Up” tease, then flipping into The Meters “Fire on the Bayou” and again to Steve Miller’s “Fly Like an Eagle”, before landing back to “Slippin’” was pretty fine. Curtis Mayfield’s “If There’s a Hell Below (We’re All Gonna Go”) was sandwiched between a few more Lindell tunes that brought the set to a close, and featured some well past midnight clav explorations by Neville.  The clock was pushing 1 AM on an early Thursday morning by the time the encore of Billy Preston’s “Will It Go Round in Circles” had wrapped.

Stanton Moore was killing it all night long

Robert Mercurio’s recent interview with jambands.com is illuminating reading on how these guys find a way to stick together, and the glue that makes it happen. With grueling schedules and commitments all over the place, the band must want this pretty bad (heck, it would be way easier not to do it). Nonetheless, you may have a better chance of catching an eclipse some years, so best to presume their next orbit is their only orbit. If you are in NOLA the days between the Fest or within hollering distance of their brief trips west, consider yourself lucky and get your ass down to One Eyed Jacks or other respectable live music establishment. This constellation may not come around again, and if it does, you better be­­ there.

Ivan Neville with Dragon Smoke at The Mint

Grace Potter holds nothing back at the Wiltern

Grace Potter and the Nocturnals played to a packed Wiltern in the midst of her Fall “all request” tour. The generous set was in the audience’s sweet spot with many sing-alongs that had GP working the front of the pit to connect with as many fans as she could. Potter and the Nocturnals are a force of nature and few artists can pivot as effortlessly between stripped down ballads and blustery blues jams. Extended excursions on rugged hooks underscored why Potter and the band are such great draws in the jam band scene and the festival circuit. Potter herself has a totally magnetic stage presence to go with killer chops, and when she takes center stage playing a Flying V, it’s impossible to look away.

In command, Grace Potter and Matt Burr

GP working the room

Grace Potter and Benny Yurco

The band had an electric rapport, with guitarists Benny Yurco and Scott Tournet trading and sharing solos like punches – punctuated by Tournet’s gritty dustbowl Telecaster tone. With “2:22” from 2006’s Nothing But Water, Potter prowled her way along the floor to the top of the mic stand and let loose from the top of her pipes – a bluesy chanteuse in full roar. When Potter proclaimed “tonight you’re sleeping next to me” in Stop the Bus (from 2007’s “This Is Somewhere”), there was little doubt who the star of this show was. Lighting and staging we’re top notch, and played well with the gorgeous historic Wiltern space.

Potter and the Nocturnals at the Wiltern

Grace Potter has our attention

Nicki Bluhm and the Gramblers from the Bay Area opened and were well matched for the task, delivering rootsy bluesy material to a receptive and supportive crowd. While this is the first I’ve heard of them, I met a couple who have been fans for years. It won’t be too long before we’re saying that, too.

We’ll be hearing more from Nicki Bluhm

Voodoo Experience 2012

October 26-28, 2012

As an unabashed Jazzfest vet, I approached my first Voodoo with excitement and a hint of fear. The mix of rap, EDM, and the often indefinable, sprinkled with the best of New Orleans contemporary and traditional, on a bed of arena headliners, eclectic rockers, funk and blues artists, is uniquely Voodoo.  Look, I’m an old school guy who knows enough to be dangerous to himself. Not a banger, a mosher or a surfer. I know Skrillex drops bombs that turn your bones to jelly and have never been to a Metallica show in my life, but I approached Voodoo with anticipation and an open mind. After all, there was Mr. Neil Young touring with Crazy Horse for the first time in eight years. Gary Clark, Jr.’s, blues without boundaries and the omni-bluesusical Jack White closing it out.

OK, so much for the obvious. How far would I go to connect with my inner Voodoo? Would I make it to Borgore (an Israeli DJ formerly of a death metal band), the total bizzaro of South African rappers Die Antwoord or Electric Daisy Carnival main stager Nervo (all three made “Rolling Stone’s 10 Must See Acts at Voodoo Fest”)? Maybe Voodoo would leave me forever changed and socially morphed. Or play it safe, reveling in New Orleans talent like the Soul Rebels, George Porter, Jr., Lil Band O’ Gold and the Preservation Hall Jazz Band. Hmmm. At Jazzfest, FOMS (“fear of missing something”) always runs high. At Voodoo, where I should be and where I could be was a kind of personal dare.

City Park is one of New Orleans’ great spaces and home to Voodoo since it moved from Tad Gormley Stadium  (near the top of the park). It’s a relaxed setting of endless greenery and moss-draped oaks, crossed by footpaths and waterways. Perfect for the last big fest of the year and a contrast to the nearby fairgrounds that host Jazzfest. The weather was spectacular; a mix of late summer warm and crisp autumn cool. The five stages are easy to access and not more than a 10-minute walk from one end to the other.

Voodoo’s Le Carnival Stage in City Park

Unlike Jazzfest, Voodoo goes well into the night and the weekend before Halloween in New Orleans gooses the id of the crowd even higher. Corsets and fishnets, the entire food chain (yes, that giraffe had just enough headroom to clear the porta-john), dudes in tutus. Just another day in NOLA.

DAY 1

‘nuf with the travelogue. Friday’s schedule was packed with Gary Clark, Jr., The Avett Brothers and Neil Young & Crazy Horse at the Ritual (main) Stage later in the day and rich with other bands I throughout. I headed to the Preservation Hall Stage, which featured local talent during the weekend. Both the Pres Hall Stage and the nearby WWOZ/Bud Light Stage are insanely intimate and, early in the day, they had the feel of a backyard barbeque. I needed an infusion of big horns right away and found it with the TBC (“To Be Continued”) Brass Band. Yup, officially back in NOLA. Next move was the soul pop of Brooklyn’s Andy Suzuki and the Method. Not quite blue-eyed in sound, but definitely soul directed, the instrumentation of fiddle and djembe (an African hand drum) augmented Suzuki’s strong vocals and keys to create vibrant, easy on the ears material. Back to the Pres Hall Stage for Little Freddie King and his traditional duckwalk , after which he threw in a little James Brown (ala “Sex Machine”) along with the usual blues staples. Guitar “Lightnin” Lee joined Little Freddie for a few tunes of dueling 3-ball red Lucilles. Stuck close by for C.C. Adcock who was sporting some impressive hardware including a steel Thinline Tele that he played with tons of tremolo and a hard tailed hollow body Flying V replete with whammy bar. Accompanied by an upright bass and two drummers facing off on a riser (giving the appearance of interlocking kits), these guys were howlingly loud and kicked up some stompingly serious boogie.

The TBC Brass Band, New Orleans brass always sounds better in New Orleans

Andy Suzuki has something to say

Little Freddie King and Guitar “Lightnin’” Lee, two Lucilles and a bucketful of blues

C.C. Adcock kicked up some serious boogie

As the day was picked up, I had to be strategic heading up to Gary Clark, Jr.’s 5 o’clock start time and the bigger names that followed. New Orleans’ 101 Runners’ tribute to Big Chief Bo Dollis was my next move and I arrived mid-set with Mardi Gras tunes on full boil. Rolling Stone pointed me next to Delta Rae, a family band featuring rooted arrangements and sweet harmonies. They hit nice Mumford-like notes without the sadness or overearnestness that befalls many of their contemporaries that played well with the younger crowd. I can see why RS called them out and look forward to hearing more than the few tunes I heard. The Le Plur/Red Bulletin Stagepulled me away for a taste of Nervo, the sister EDM act. Now, I’ve been to Electric Daisy Carnival about as many times as I’ve been (or will be) to Burning Man, but I have to say the energy was playful, totally fun and infectious. Maybe it was the safety of the daylight, but I kind of got it in my own I don’t do this thing sort of way. Then the 80s called. Thomas Dolby was playing at the Le Carnival Stage. Dolby was one of the most successful to mix effects, danceable beats and tech with sophistication and rock that was neither the cousin of 70s electronic manipulation à la Kraftwerk or the pop candy of Duran Duran. It was 80s music with a brain. Early tunes included “Europa” (a personal favorite), the band had more strings than electronics and keys, and Dolby himself lent a very affable presence. Thoroughly enjoyable.

The 101 Runners Tribute to Big Chief Bo Dollis

Delta Rae break out at Voodoo, Rolling Stone was right on this one

Sister Act, Nervo, at the Le Plur Stage, that was fun

Thomas Dolby twisting knobs at the Le Carnival Stage

Time to get my roots on with Gary Clark, Jr. at the Ritual Stage. With his ACL set scorched in my brain (which I streamed) and a show-stopping Jazzfest set in the Blues Tent (opposite Springsteen), any chance to see Clark, Jr., at this point in his career is an opportunity to witness prime time talent on the rise. No surprise he draws well at big festivals, even though two years ago only a few had really heard him. I could only stay for the first few tunes, but as soon as he hit stage it was if a huge Texas storm had just taken a blue sky day and tossed the place. The Texas shuffle of “Don’t Owe You a Thang” was especially smokin’. Next stop, George Porter, Jr. and His Runnin’ Pardners back at the OZ Stage. I appreciate Porter, Jr.’s playing even more in non-Metersesque settings (that he brings NOLA funk to Dead grooves with 7 Walkers is especially a treat) and Pardner Brint Anderson’s Les Paul and slide are well matched. After a taste of George, The Avett Brothers hit the Ritual Stage, their thrash banjo-cello attitude showing why they have such a great festival following. These guys are the anti-ramble, wielding bluegrass instruments like sharp knives, and have unstoppable energy. After  a few of Avett Brothers tunes, I couldn’t miss Malian stringer Cheick Hamala Diabate. Diabete, a Washington (DC) resident, is a griot (West African troubadour of sorts) who has collaborated with Bela Fleck and performed for the US Congress, and builds musical bridges between traditional griot instruments and their western counterparts. His banjo playing and jamming were remarkable and one of the days many highlights. One last stop before the headliner, one more special Voodoo collaboration at the Pres Hall stage that brought together George Porter, Jr. and Johnny Vidacovich, with Skerik and Mike Dillon of Garage a Trois, and the legendary “Kidd” Jordan. Jordan swapping and merging tenor squonks with the crazed and incredibly innovative Skerik over a hard groove from Porter, Jr. and Johnny V. was not to be missed, except for Neil Young.

Storm’s a comin’, Gary Clark, Jr.

Runnin’ Pardners George Porter, Jr. and Brint Anderson

Cheick Hamala Diabate, remarkable world bending jams

Scott Avett defies gravity

The legendary Edward “Kidd” Jordan

Neil Young has been headlining large arenas, sheds and festivals for his first tour with Crazy Horse since 2004 and his body of work remains seminal to my personal soundtrack (and has since the 70s). Young’s last performance in New Orleans at the 2009 Jazzfest is the stuff of legend. Seriously. After shredding the strings of Ol’ Black at the end of his “Day in the Life” encore, the swollen skies opened up just when the last note faded. This night was mild, and the skies clear, as Young and the Horse took the stage for a 2-hour set that can only be described as primally charged. Largely sticking to a set list consistent with the tour to date, Young was fresh from a gig in Tuscaloosa with the Horse the night before and his annual acoustic Bridge School benefits the prior weekend. The tour has featured nuggets from early 90s Young and Crazy Horse including “Love and Only Love” (the opener) and “F*!#in’ Up” from “Ragged Glory”, tracks from the just released “Psychedelic Pill” and obligatory classics.

With just a few exceptions, the set was pure cronk. Jurassic and thunderous from start to finish, perhaps never more so than with the seemingly endless coda to “Walk Like a Giant”. There was the 10+ minutes of the song and the 10+ minutes to the finish that was reduced to nothing but sustain, distortion and apocalyptic howl. Young was literally hugging the top of his stack, squeezing every last possibility for noise out of the thing until there was nothing left to give. At one point in the middle of “Giant” Young, back turned, raised his arms and shook his fists at the heavens as if channeling planetary frustration through his Les Paul to get the Almighty’s attention. He got mine. Nothing like the junkie ballad “Needle and the Damage Done” to take the edge off after that.

Later in the set, with a long pick scratch down the neck and some time machine humor, Young launched into a raucous “Mr. Soul”, before closing with “Hey Hey, My My (Into the Black)” upon which the 40-something woman next to me proclaimed, “old guys know how to rock!”. Now there’s some Voodoo wisdom for ya. He came back with “Like a Hurricane” as an encore, at one point drifting on the words “somewhere safer”, as if repeating them would make them truer. It all ended in a ritualistic roar with Young deconstructing Ol’ Black yet again, then disintegrating into a primordial rumble that had him nudging the barely beating carcass of his guitar like a big cat over a fresh kill. A fitting end to Voodoo Day 1.

DAY 2

The great thing about Voodoo is sleeping in. While gates open 11ish, the music can go another 12 hours. Especially in NOLA, it is important to recharge, so rolling in around 3 seemed reasonable (as much as I wanted to check out Sister Sparrow and the Dirty Birds, it just didn’t happen). My first Day 2 stop was the Soul Rebels Brass Band at the OZ Stage. The Rebs are Jazzfest fixtures, and get around plenty during festival season. By the time I hit their set, they were working Stevie Wonder’s “Sir Duke” into a joyful, brassy lather. Contemporary Cajunistes Feaufollet were a worthy detour at the Pres Hall Stage before catching some of the Revivalists set at the Ritual Stage. I’ve written a lot about them lately and what I saw of their Voodoo set only reaffirms a New Orleans band playing vital rock and roll that is going places (with a Soul Rebels walk on that made them sound even better). Ingrid Lucia Presents the New Orleans Nightingales was a showcase for female vocalists of blues, jazz and traditional persuasions backed by a crack band with Alex McMurray on guitar and a 5-piece horn section including Bonerama’s Craig Klein. Irma Thomas (who I missed) is always a draw, but it was great to hear a wide range of stylings in a back-to-back format from Debbie Davis, Alexendra Scott, Banu Gibson, Meschiya Lake, Holly Bendtsen and others.

The Soul Rebels Brass Band’s Paul Robertson

Nightingale Banu Gibson at the Preservation Hall Stage

One of my must do Voodoos was Dave Stewart, who I had not seen perform since the Eurythmics days. Stewart’s recorded collaborations with Annie Lennox swung radically from the sythn-pop, tech heavy (and beautifully executed) cool of “Sweet Dreams” and “Here comes the Rain Again” to the fiery funked up rhythm and soul of “Would I Lie to You” and “Missionary Man”. Knowing he had taken a bluesier, rootsy direction in recent years had me very curious. Stewart came dressed for the Voodoo vibe with a band that included Nashville guitarist, Tom Bukovac. The set liberally featured material from last year’s “Blackbird Diaries” as well as Stewart/Eurythmics hits including “Don’t Come Around Here No More”, “Missionary Man”, “Here Comes the Rain Again” and a “Sweet Dreams” mash up with the Soul Rebels (they were everywhere). From the outset, Stewart and his band were also one of the most photo friendly and audience engaging acts I have covered in a long time. He was frequently playing to the pit, freely posing and smiling, and having a great time every minute he was on stage. A lot of artists could take a page from his book.

Dave Stewart keeping good Voodoo company

At the Ritual Stage, I hit the start of LA’s own Silversun Pickups gasoline-fueled set then circled back for some  timeless reggae courtesy of Toots and the Maytals at the OZ Stage, where Toots was given a generous 90 minutes.

Silversun Pickups’ Brian Aubert and Chris Guanlao make big sounds on the Le Ritual Stage

Toots Hibbert and a Maytal

Unfortunately, I was not shortlisted to shoot the headliners, including Metallica. Sometimes things work out the way they’re meant to. Anders Osborne’s set with VOW collaborators Johnny Sansone and Big Chief Monk Boudreaux in front of a few hundred was another highlight. Opening with the thrumming urgency of “On the Road to Charlie Parker”, it felt like they’d been playing for hours, and they just dug in from there. I’ve heard Sansone perform “Lord is Waiting the Devil is Too” many times, but this night he was truly a man possessed by the spirit. I mean scary potent. Oh, and only at Voodoo could you check a guy in an Anders costume and everyone is in on it.

Not far from Metallica, Anders Osborne played a scorching set

Big Chief Monk Boudreaux

After Anders’, I slid over for the very end of MyNameIsJohnMichael’s set. Spanky horns, uptempo arrangements, great energy. I’ll make sure to catch them come Jazzfest time, if not sooner.

I managed to get to some of Metallica’s set. These guys put on a highly entertaining and totally energized performance, with world class staging and lighting for a festival setting that is second to none. Consummate professionals, for sure. Me, I was pretty spent after two full days and some two dozen plus acts, and just wasn’t feeling my Metallica (I’m a little old for fireworks and explosions, anyway), but I totally get why they are kings of their scene.

DAY 3

Sunday was lighter on acts that pulled me, a perfect opp to go outside my bandwidth. I started with some New Orleans Bounce at the Le Carnival Stage and the younger, totally buoyant crowd way in to all the shakin’ it on stage. Long, tall Marcia Ball at the OZ Stage could not be passed up, even it was a drive by en route to the prog-metal weirdness of Coheed and Cambria (classic Voodoo whiplash). “Afterman: Ascension” the latest installment in the band’s ongoing epic mythology, sits at no. 5 on the Billboard charts, somewhere between Ellie Goulding and Mumford & Sons. Formed in 1995, each of the band’s six albums to date are concept pieces for the “Armory Wars”, a science fiction storyline written by singer/guitarist Claudio Sanchez. I can’t say I really got it for the early tunes I made, but the sound was big and crunchy, more metal than prog. And Sanchez’s mane makes Jim James look like he just got a no. 2 at the local barbershop.

The bounce energy up front

Long Tall Marcia Ball knows a few things about Peace, Love & BBQ

Coheed and Cambria’s Claudio Sanchez ascends

Needing to chill, I quickly checked out Borgore at the Le Plur/Red Bulletin Stage. This former drummer of the Israeli death metal band Shabira (not a genre I’m overly familiar with) is all dubstep and according to Wikipedia, “some songs have been compared to horror movies, farm animals, and sex”. Not sure I got that anymore than I am a dubstep aficionado, so I pressed on to Lil Band O’ Gold back at the OZ Stage to bring me back down. Lil Band O’ Gold is somewhat legendary in New Orleans circles, featuring C.C. Adcock on guitar, Steve Riley on accordion (delayed by weather) and David Egan on keys. Perhaps most impressive were the vigorous vocals and playing of 75 year old drummer Warren Storm.  A joy to have finally caught up with these guys who represent the best in New Orleans roots music. Then there is the Preservation Hall Jazz Band. Few names are more synomonuos with New Orleans musical traditions. With Big Al Carson sitting in on vocals, the Pres Hall Band swung and sang there way through a spirited set capped off by a warm rendition of “Goodnight, Irene”.

Chillin’ with Borgore at the Le Plur/Red Bulletin Stage

Warren Storm of Lil Band O’ Gold

Preservation Hall Jazz Band from the Preservation Hall Stage

Skrillex (only at Voodoo could you bounce from the Pres Hall Jazz Band to Skrillex). Holy crap. These weren’t bombs, they were cannonballs to the chest. I can only relate the visceralness of the sonic/visual experience. The music itself just poured over me, submerging me behind a wall of visuals and sound that left me in a puddle. And that was for the 10 minutes I could shoot.

Skrillex celebrates fire

Voodoo wrapped with a closing set by Jack White and (for this night only) The Buzzards. With upright bass and pedal steel adding raw texture, they stayed low to the ground, gritty, pushy and fiery, delivering a set of shape-shifting blues rock that was a wholly satisfying conclusion to my first Voodoo Experience.

So, at the end of it all, did I Voodoo well? I went places I’ve never been, found shelter in the New Orleans rhythms and brass I love and heard 30+ acts over the three days. It is just this mix that is hard to duplicate anywhere else. The traditional and the contemporary, the edgy and the extreme, the local and the global, headliners and up and comers. All set in “this stew called New Orleans” (as Paul Sanchez puts it). I’m not off the reservation yet, but maybe a little closer to the edge than I was before. That’s a good thing. Voodoo done me right.

You can check out many of the Voodoo Experience 2012 performances on Voodoo TV. The event would not be possible without the good people of Rehage Entertainment (RE).  RE owns, operates, produces, books and manages the Voodoo Experience, which has twice been nominated for Pollstar’s festival of the year.

Ed Williams and David Shaw of The Revivalists at The Mint

Jazzfest’s surprise moments can happen any time. One of mine came this year when The Revivalists kicked off the Fest from the Gentilly stage before noon on the opening Friday. While the band has played the Fest the past few years, I was in the dark until that set. Familiar to many native Orleaneans and carving a broader audience through touring in support of acts such as Dr. John, Trombone Shorty and Galactic (and in the next few weeks, Gov’t. Mule), their Fest set was passionate, captivating, and raised the bar early for one of the better Fests ever. Led by guitarist/vocalist David Shaw, the band puts Ed Williams blazing pedal steel right up front with horns, keys and a committed rhythm section to deliver what the esteemed David Fricke dubbed “a Crescent City-rhythm spin on jam-band jubilee”.  To my ear, this is soul-jam influenced rock from New Orleans, with the New Orleans influences taking more of a back seat to driving and occasionally chimey guitars, Shaw’s growl and an undeniable we came to play stage presence (Shaw’s off stage forays and Williams overtopping his pedal steel were sweet spot material for this photographer).

Ed Williams and Rob Ingraham of The Revivalists

The Revivalists found each other in 2007 and have three CDs under their belt – their eponymous debut EP from 2008, 2010’s “Vital Signs” and this year’s “City of Sound”, which was produced by Ben Ellman of Galactic and mixed by Count (aka, Michael Eldridge), who’s worked with the Stones, Radiohead, Pink, No Doubt, as well as Galactic and Trombone Shorty.  Their Mint date is part of a September swing through California and Nevada and I was curious how their Gentilly size presence would fit the room.

David Shaw, Zack Feinberg and Rob Ingraham at The Mint

The small, but devoted, Tuesday night crowd grew in size and enthusiasm as the band worked its way through a deep 80-minute set. Opening with Zack Feinberg’s ES-335 fueled riffs on “Concrete (Fish Out of Water)” from 2008’s “The Revivalists”, the tune caught fire right away. Ed Williams’ sacred steel wasted no time meshing and mashing with Shaw and Feinberg’s twin guitars. “All in the Family” and “Monster” are new tunes, the former bringing a stomping, rapped up rhythm to a chorus of “I’ve got that feeling in my bones”, and whether playing to a living room or thousands, David Shaw sells that line true. Steel on top of blues driven funk just brings it home. “Monster” is a softer tune built around Shaw’s vocals, Feinberg’s waterfall runs and Rob Ingraham’s sax, and an appropriate lead in to “Not Turn Away” from “Vital Signs” with its shuffle step plea of “I hope that you were listening/when I said that you could be the only one”.

Zack Feinberg sporting a mighty ‘stache along with some tasty fret work

Ed Williams, fiery steel playing and excitable, too

The Revivalists’ George Gekas

The ghostly, “Pretty Photograph” from “City of Sound,” sounds nothing like New Orleans and was one of best tunes of the night, blending Williams sweet turn up top with Rob Ingraham’s baritone below. The punchy “Common Cents” from “The Revivalists”, and “When I’m Able”, “Up in the Air” and “When I Die” from “City of Sound” followed. “Up in the Air’s” catch up phrasing landing squarely on the chorus and building to a satisfying finish under Zack Feinberg’s uncolored gallop. By this point in the set, tables gave way to the dance floor and a 40ish dude leading the pack made a point of telling me he drove 3 hours to catch the gig.  “Let It All Out” was another new tune that bounced between a ragey bridge and more ballady chorus and fell a little short of other tunes. The rest of the set included the reggae lilt of “Sunny Days” from “The Revivalists”, “Catching Fireflies” from “Vital Signs”, and “Criminal” the obvious closer from “City of Sound”. “Criminal” brings many of the band’s best elements together, tearing up the Fest and capping off this night at The Mint nicely.

Vocalist/guitarist, David Shaw early in The Mint set

I caught up with Rob Ingraham after the show for some set forensics. No set lists, just shout outs from the stage. Wouldn’t have known it as it all hung together rather well.

Rob Ingraham at The Mint

There is romance in the Revivalists sound. Songs feel like love close, beaten or out of reach. Delivered with inspiration and perspiration and a New Orleans heartbeat. A band that also knows where it’s going and determined to get there.  I’d count on it.

The Revivalists delivered

Chris Mulé, Aaron Wilkinson and Sam Price, the HISB frontline at The Mint

It’s apropos that the Honey Island Swamp Band would return for a summer gig at The Mint following an appearance at Outside Lands the prior weekend. After all, the Bay Area figures so prominently in this NOLA band’s origin story. Stranded by Katrina. Crescent City players a long way from home. Meet up on the west coast. Bond big time. Keep their chops strong. Throw a few songs together. Land a regular gig in the heart of town. Cut their debut in the one and only Record Plant in Sausalito. It could only happen….where?

Chris Mulé, Aaron Wilkinson and Sam Price diggin’ in at The Mint

This is their third trip to The Mint in 14 months. That’s not a bad thing. Whether it’s covering their LA dates, staking their ground from the big stage at the Fest or enjoying their pop up everywhere Fest club dates, I have been a fan since first catching them at Jazzfest in 2008.  The Bay Area meets bayou influences are everywhere in the HISB sound. Solid songwriting, tight arrangements and enough room to stretch, their self-coined “bayou americana” is rootsy strings first stuff. Swamp driven, but not dripping, and often sprouting ensemble fed jams from tasty hooks, HISB sets include staples from their first three albums “Honey Island Swamp band (2007), “Wishing Well” (2009) and “Good to You” (2010), and more recently, new material from a pending fourth release.

Aaron Wilkinson and Sam Price are good to you…

Guest Robert Walter was on hand to thicken the gumbo a bit. Many an HISB gig add horns up top, so it’s a fresh twist to double down with Walter and Trevor Brooks on keys. Behind the stringed attack of frontmen, Aaron Wilkinson who moves between his Thinline Tele and mandolin, and Chris Mulé’s excellent Strat fed slide work, HISB serves up material reminiscent of Little Feat, Creedence, Black Crowes and many of the band’s NOLA peers, while remaining totally original. Sam Price’s stage energy is only exceeded by the pulsing, bubbling work on his Lakland bass. Garland Paul is a great foil for Price and the rhythm section drives and roots a band that feeds one another with spirited stage IQ in a deceptively comfortable musical setting.

Mint denizen and former Greyboy, Robert Walter

Sam Price, OshKosh cover boy

HISB drummer Garland Paul at The Mint

Opening with the country ramble of “Honey” (from “Good to You”), the tune had Trevor Brooks off to the races. “Josephine”, (also from, “Good to You”) is simply a good time song of love on the road with a great hook. Some muscular playing from Price and kick ass exchanges between Chris Mulé and Trevor Brooks drove that point home. Walter’s jazzier inclinations added another layer to the already jammy “Chocolate Cake” (from “Good To You”) and his soul jazz sound on his own “Snakes and Spiders” (from his 2008 release, “Cure All”) and later in the set, “Hard Ware” (from 2005’s “Super Heavy Organ”) and “Quantico, VA”, were an intriguing match for HISB that worked better than expected. “300 Pounds” (from “Good To You”) is a classic tale of weed running that again had Mulé satisfyingly meshing with four hands on the keys. “Slip” from their self-titled debut and “One Shot” (unreleased) were feisty, with the latter beginning with a reggae on the bayou feel and the former featuring some nice wah-wah like effects from Mulé, when the band was not hugging the go to m7/dom 9 change. Throughout the set, Aaron Wilkinson’s mandolin work showed how much that little box can rock, when he wasn’t tangling Fenders with Mulé or working a hot summer day harp in to the mix. His 8-string touch on “One Shot” climbed all around the blues step of the tune.

Aaron Wilkinson, 8-stringing

Chris Mulé and and shadow lurker Trevor Brooks

No song captures the musical strengths of HISB like “Wishing Well” (from the 2008 release of the same name).  Swampy riffs, a sing along chorus and deep stretches of purposeful jams. At The Mint, the snaky intro, Mulé’s slide and the ensemble spirit had me deja vuing for long lost brain cells. “Till the Money’s Gone” (from “Wishing Well”) is an all NOLA romp and “Jitterbug Swing” (an old Bukka White tune, also unreleased) is fleet footed front porch bluesgrass. “Cane Sugar” (unreleased) and “Country Girl” (from “Good To You”), with its Van Morrison if he could boogie flavor, closed things out.

Sam Price gets high on the neck

Garland Paul

Singer/guitarist Clarence Bucaro opened the show with a well received set culled from his five albums, including the just released “Walls of the World”.

Clarence Bucaro during his opening set

HISB is deceiving. The tunes feel like your own backyard throwdown, but go deeper. The funk, blues, bluegrass, jam, country, bayou sound they have cultivated will satisfy jam fans and roots devotees alike. Fest vets know what I’m talking about and the thousands who caught them Saturday at Outside Lands do too. And they just keep getting better.

HISB, one hand on the wheel at all times

The master, Buddy Guy

Into the blues or not, it was impossible not to look forward to the crossroads on the road summit of Buddy Guy and Jonny Lang – two giant slingers for the ages. Myself, I’ll get me some 8/12-bars all night long from just about anybody, let alone these guys. Seriously, I was raised as far from the blues as a Westwood kid could get, yet the in your bones familiarity and launchpad of guitar heroes past, present and future intoxicated me early on. Blame Clapton. Blame Hendrix. Blame Duane Allman. The roots of my personal soundtrack lie in the blues and blues driven rock. Few musical idioms are as simple, fundamental and elemental. And in this day of economic hardship and digital overload, the blues have never been more important.

Jonny Lang at the City National Grove of Anaheim

The setup of Lang, the original teenage blues phenom (now 31-year old father of three) with Buddy Guy, the elder Chicago blues king, could not be passed up. The Fargo born Lang was signed to A&M at 15 and “Lie to Me”, the first of his four studio albums was released in 1997 (his most recent effort is 2009’s “Live at the Ryman”). These two actually crossed paths earlier in Lang’s career with his appearance on Guy’s 1998 “Heavy Love” release. No surprise Lang has toured with the likes of the Stones, Aerosmith, B.B. King, Jeff Beck and Sting, and that Clapton tapped him for the first Crossroads Guitar Festival (2004). Buddy Guy, 45 years Lang’s senior, started performing in early 50s Baton Rouge and he’s never stopped. His discography on Chess, Vanguard, Alligator, Reprise, Atlantic, MCA and many others, spans a lifetime, and he is a six-time Grammy winner. To put it simply, Clapton once described Guy as “the best guitarist alive”. The list of worshipful guitar legends Guy has influenced is pure hall of fame. I was only hoping that this performance would be a master class in 6-string heartache and rags-to-riches showmanship that come with the territory.

Jonny Lang, blues cryer, with drummer Barry Alexander

While I am less familiar with Jonny Lang’s material, he connected with the OC crowd early. Beginning with more brooding tunes including “Turnaround” from the 2006 album of the same name, Lang took to either side of the stage as he dug into solos with a fleshy, perfectly baked tone delivered from a gorgeous Les Paul and especially his Tele Thinline Deluxe (Tab Benoit is another notable blues artists favoring the Thinline). By the time he hit “Red Light” from 2003’s “Long Time Coming”, the audience swooned a bit as he reached for quieter falsettos between a Marley-esque sing along of “everything’s gonna be alright”. Not exactly steeped in the delta, but a solid showcase for Lang’s musical and vocal range. A too short cover of Stevie Wonder’s “Living for the City” was a terrific match for Lang’s strengths and the crowd really responded to the gospelly “That Great Day” from “Turnaround”. A thomping intro to “Angel of Mercy” from 1998’s “Wander this World” found Lang facing off with guitarist Akil Thompson’s hollow-body Gibson for some of Lang’s nastiest soloing of the set. Lang closed things out with a solo acoustic intro to “Lie to Me’” from his 1997 debut album of the same name, that grew to full band drama on a tune that had an “everyone’s been there” feel to it. A blues that anybody knows well.

Jonny Lang don’t lie to nobody

As Buddy Guy strode to the stage with a huge smile and a signature polka dot Strat (blue with white dots, to be exact), he took a healthy moment to pause and respect the crowd. While it would be easy to trade on his legend, the man takes nothing for granted. He then jumped into the Leon Russell penned/Freddie King associated “Going Down”, a propulsive early 70s tune made a little more famous by Jeff Beck. Guy advised us that we were going to get “so funky, we could smell it” before taking “Hoochie Coochie Man” from a quiet rumble to a roar. He roamed the stage, even going off-mike to create living room intimacy, then fired away with guitarist Ric Hall in a sizzling exchange of solos. Between songs, Guy jokingly (or not) confessed he “don’t rehearse, or I’ll fuck it up”. Believe me, he didn’t. The key no longer fit the lock with the cheatin’ blues of “Someone Else Is Slippin’ In”, from his 1994 release “Slippin’ In, after which Guy noted “you don’t hear blues on the radio anymore”. A sharecropper’s son who didn’t have running water until he was 17 would know.

Respect and love from Buddy Guy, with drummer Tim Austin and bassist Orlando Wright

“If you don’t try and please the fans, go home”, Buddy Guy remembers telling some fellow musicians. It’s so obviously true. “76 Years Young” (updated from “74 Years Young” from 2010’s, “Living Proof”) was a highlight, and not just for the humor of the autobiographical intro. With lines like “I’ve been a dog and I’ve been a tomcat, I chased some tails and I left some tracks”, this is a man who’s lived every word. Guy’s vocals showed off a warm spot-on vibrato on the 1956 Little Willie John classic “Fever”. Then it was time to plunge into the crowd with an Albert King tribute (and this ain’t no mosh pit). Guy took his time entering from one side, leaving from another, moving from the front of the room to the back. Allowing fans to take a picture with him, laughing and smiling the whole way, all the while shredding up a storm and seamlessly staying connected with the band. Yeah, I think the fans were pretty happy.

Buddy…freaking…Guy

When Buddy Guy steps aside for another slinger, you know the player’s special. When the guitarist is 13-year old (barely) Quinn Sullivan, it’s jaw dropping. Guy first played with Sullivan when he was 7 (“I thought it was me playing”). Try and process that. Sullivan confidently took his spot and sparked up a gorgeous Strat for his own “Blues Child” from his 2011 debut “Cyclone”. That Guy compared his playing and sound to Clapton is not to off the mark (and I can’t believe I just wrote that). Sullivan stuck around for “Buddy’s Blues”, also from “Cyclone”. “The whole world turned upside down, when I first heard the master Buddy Guy”, Sullivan growled as deep as his teenage pipes could reach. Well put, Quinn. Jonny Lang had to be smiling off stage. Perhaps what’s most powerful about this collaboration is the legacy of the blues that transcends generations. Where a 13-year old with the world ahead of him can meet up with a 76-year old master on equal footing. Wow.

Making a point to the photographer

Guy’s set concluded with his popular take on John Hiatt’s “Feels Like Rain” from his 2007 album of the same name, and a loose cover of Cream/Clapton’s vintage blues “Strange Brew”. “Feels Like Rain” was a crowd pleaser that resonated well with the Grove audience. Lang and Sullivan joined Guy for “Strange Brew”, which could have had more spark given the lineup, but was hardly a disappointment.

Blues power

Buddy Guy’s generous spirit was on display to the very end. High 5-ing and signing autographs as he left the stage. A shout out to Guy’s band is also called for. The rhythm section of bassist Orlando Wright and drummer Tim Austin, Marty Sammon’s keys and Ric Hall on guitar were far more than predictable accompanists, they were a soulful unit that played as a very tight band.

Buddy Guy, damn right…you know the rest

I came to the show to bask in the notes of a blues legend. Check. That Buddy Guy spun stories like I was on the bar stool next to him was just as meaningful. This was a night of blues as uplift, warmth and connection. Not the dark stuff. Damn right, they got the blues and ain’t we the lucky ones. Don’t ever forget that.

Feeling vinyl with Robert Walter and Simon Lott at The Mint

There is no sound quite as satisfying as a Hammond B-3 organ through a Leslie speaker. In the right hands, the B-3 can be pure blues drenched, Sunday church joy, straight up bop, prog rock majesty, soul master and classic rock anchor. While the last B-3 rolled off the line in the mid-70s (says Wiki), the legacy of the sound is completely unmistakable. It has been a signature for the likes of Gregg Allman, Stevie Winwood, Keith Emerson, Booker T. Jones, Stephen Stills, Jimmy Smith, Ray Manzarek, to name but a few. More recently, a newer generation of players, some with deep New Orleans ties, have led B-3 driven ensembles including the likes of Marco Benevento, LA’s own Mike Mangan and Robert Walter, who began a June residency at The Mint last week.

Southern California native and New Orleans resident Walter chose his Mint residency to reconvene the 20^th Congress for their first performance in 5 years. The former Greyboy launched the Congress in the late ‘90s and counts Stanton Moore, Will Bernard and Joe Russo among its alumni. This gig featured original Greyboys Walter and Chris Stillwell, bass, with Cochemea Gastelum, sax/flute (Sharon Jones), Chuck Prada, percussion (Snoop Dogg), and Simon Lott, drums (George Porter, Jr.). The 20^th Congress moves from straight up horn and keys driven funk and blues, to the more quixotic, while right at home in the soul jazz spectrum. Like Marco Benevento, Walter mixes the B-3 sound with electric keys and occasional effects.

Simon Lott, sans hoodie

While Walter did not have his B-3 in tow for this gig, his Yamaha nicely emulated the experience through a vintage Leslie. Another rack of keys sat atop the Yamaha and (to my delight) a Fender Rhodes filled out the array. Opening with the chunk of funk “Sweetie Pie”, the 20^th jumped right into the fray led by some fine Rhodes work and Gastellum’s alto.  The next tune started with an extended Walter solo, then had drummer Simon Lott, hoodie and all, drop into a hard groove and pretty soon it was feeling like 70’s vinyl. No surprise the set list revealed the third tune to be from Walter’s 1997 release “Spirit of 70” (“Corry Snail and Slug Death”, no explanation to that one). Gastellum switched to flute for the next tune “Fathom 5”, from his 2010 solo release “The Electric Sound of Johnny Arrow”.  The piece started spare, with Gastellum’s flute and Walter’s reverbed Rhodes a snug unit, bassist Stillwell adding a tease of samba undercurrent.

Cochemea Gastellum with the 20th Congress

Walter was easy and chatty with the crowd and introduced “Dog Party” with good humor. Disclosure, I love the Fender Rhodes sound almost as much as a B-3, whether it’s early Chick Corea or Royal Scam era Steely Dan. Walter did not disappoint, moving into territory that would make the 1973 Eumir Deodato proud.  The set closed with “Who Took the Happiness Out”, a Dirty Dozen Brass Band composition, and a great showcase for the entire 20^th .

Robert Walter, Simon Lott and Chris Stillwell convening the 20th

The second set kicked off with “Movin’ on Out” and as the set progressed, a few guests spelled Simon Lott and Chris Stillwell for a tune each, stepping in pretty seamlessly, given some of the angled time signatures. Walter also dug more into his effects pedal, pushing the Rhodes tone to its edges and back again. The set list revealed songs from 2001’s “There Goes the Neighborhood” (“2% Body Fat”), 2008’s “Cure All” (“Maple Plank”, “Snakes and Spiders”) and 2005’s “Super Heavy Organ” (“Adelita”, “Kicking Up Dust”). Apparently, one of the tunes had something to do with brushing your teeth, but hey, that’s instrumental titling for you.

Chuck Prada with the 20th Congress at The Mint

The 20^th Congress is often fast paced. Borderline frenetic, but not overly hyper. Always finding a groove to draw your attention. Along the way, Robert Walter will move from bluesy flourishes to dizzying ascending/descending runs. At least a few times Wednesday my head checked Welcome to the Canteen era Traffic and Caravanserai era Santana while the 20^th was rolling.  This is not retro stuff, just a continuation of a story and great sounds fully embraced. Me, I never left the time zone, so it works rather well.

Robert Walter, Simon Lott and guest

Robert Walter continues his residency at The Mint on June 20^th (with Reed Mathis and Aaron Redfield) and June 27^th (Stanton Moore and Jonathan Freilich).