New Orleans Night
By Dante Dominick
It is no coincidence Austin is the setting for what is arguably
the most important music industry event in the world. Austin's
official city slogan is, "Live Music Capital of the World."
While that might be a tad ambitious, it is a forgivable boast
with considerable merit. Austinites breath music as we walk down
the streets; one can't help it, it literally is everywhere for
every occasion. Yet, the Austin scene isn't exactly spread even:
string instruments reign supreme. Horns, sadly, are scarce compared
to guitars. Even fiddles probably double the number of all reed
and brass (combined) gracing concert stages.
This Austinite joneses more jazz so bad I passed on sets by
Ray Wylie Hubbard, Robert Earl Keen, Robert Plant, Michelle Shocked,
Peter Rowan, Slaid Cleaves and many more big-name Americana greats
to camp my body at the showcase of New Orleans music presented
by the City of New Orleans and Basin Street Records. New Orleans
musicians, situated in a temporary tent of significant size in
the parking lot of Fox and Hound (typically a sports bar with
an ungodly number of TVs) demonstrated why Austin's city slogan
has to be taken lightly sometimes.
Theresa Anderson and her violin got things started
at 8pm with a very Austin set of roots/singer/songwriter fare.
The night culminated with the aggressive Supagroup tour-de-rocking
the party to it's 2am closing time. In between was a slew of
great jazz from a city whose tradition probably surpasses any
city in America.
 (Left: Jon
Cleary)Jon Cleary and the Absolute Monster Gentlemen
were absolute monsters. Obvious metaphor, I know, but oh, so
apropos. Every known adjective will be an understatement, but
might as well throw out a funky here and a smokin' there. I've
never owned more than a six-cylinder vehicle (presently packing
four); I imagine Cleary to be the musical equivalent of a sixteen-cylinder
shiny, black-metallic convertible. If someone was sitting for
this set, they surely had wheels on their chair.
 (Right:
John Cleary with Cornell Williams on bass)The rhythm section
was anchored Cornell Williams whose red jumpsuit and inability
to stand in one place coincided with the gymnastics he took the
bass lines through. On drums, Desmond "Milk" Williams
could anchor an aircraft carrier. Guitarist Anthony Brown vamped
jazzy chords with clean precision and his infrequent solos were
mean, lean and on the mark. Cleary on keyboards is out of control.
And a new feature to AMG since January is a second monster on
keys, David Torkanowsky. One might think it odd, or even overkill,
to add a second man on keys when the bandleader is a well-known
badass, but one would be wrong. The full throttle funk and keyboard
attack was awesome. If those keys had in fact been ivory, dust
would've been all that remained.
Opening with "Too Damn Hot," it was clear they were
singing about the band on this very chilly March evening. Mostly
originals, Cleary and Gentlemen also laid down an incredible
rendition of some Professor Longhair. During this break both
Cleary and Torkanowsky soloed at the same time culminating a
thrilling throwdown of tight grooving with loose, but organized,
mayhem. Cleary's vocals are pleasant, and the harmony play with
Williams and company was innovative, perfectly timed and executed.
"So Damn Good" includes the refrain, "I feel so
damn good I'll be glad when I got the blues." And I believe
him. What's the Crescent City equivalent to "yeeehah!"?
 (Left: Kermit
Ruffins)Up next were Kermit Ruffins and His Barbecue
Swingers. Only he left the Barbecue Swingers at home and borrowed
his band from the following act, Los Hombres Calientes (and Torkanowsky,
now on upright piano). Ruffins has outgrown his notoriety from
the ReBirth Brass Band, which he co-founded in 1982 and helped
propel to incredible stature up to 1992 when he went on his own.
With the Swingers, Ruffins is less bombastic, more slick and
jazzy, a complete swing leader. Dressed in fine suits, fashionable
hat and marked by an unparalleled swagger, the man oozes hip
confidence.
The crowd grew significantly for Ruffins' time slot. For this
set, however, he could have borrowed some of the bombast. I've
seen him with much higher energy in the past, but the borrowed
band explains some of that. It was still a great set with a very
cabaret feel. Many standards and standard-sounding tunes were
given royal Ruffins treatment as he coolly snapped his fingers
while singing. How the man can hold such the shit-eating grin
while he sings...no one will ever know.
His upcoming release includes the ReBirth Brass Band as his
support, so I imagine it to be more in the butt-moving realm.
If folks in the crowd were jazz fans, they enjoyed a wonderful
treat in the closest thing we have to Louis Armstrong today.
Some seemed to want more fat beats to gyrate to. Can't win 'em
all.
As the hour struck eleven, Los Hombres Calientes was
taking the stage. I was wary that LHC might be a little on the
"serious" side of jazz for such a country/Americana
town, but to be blunt: I worry too much. Eight maestros dedicated
to a vision as much as great music. The vision: since every race
and culture is born from the earth, we are all related. The music
part comes in two strains: since we're all family, let's examine
the music of all our relatives and secondly, life's a party and
music is crucial for a good party. So as Kermit Ruffins would
say, "all aboard!"
Bill Summers (percussion) and Irvin Mayfield
(trumpet) are co-leaders of what is broadly defined as a music
collective. The cross cultural vision is a lofty one, and we
are so often inundated with jam/funk/fusion bands that sloppily
insert their cultural flavor of the month that we tend to raise
a skeptical eyebrow past our hairlines. Let me reprise an earlier
statement: eight dedicated maestros. Nothing is forced, nothing
seems out of place. Everything is lively and most colorful. Summers'
Afro-Cuban heavy percussion fuels the rhythm and melodies are
arranged and improvised masterfully. Their recordings have a
semi-serious tone. Their live set truly is a magnificent party.
Not only did this New Orleans showcase fill my soul with nearly
unfathomable doses of joyous music, but I learned something I
never considered before. Something about the sound waves produced
by horn instruments has a way of getting right into your very
bones, more so than amplified string instruments. Meaning: my
jaw and tooth problems were now throbbing with great intensity.
I went home relatively early, soaked my mouth in whiskey and
whimpered to bed.
Contact Dante Dominick at dominick-at-rockzilla.net
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