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A Man Who Has Nothing In Particular To Recommend Him Discusses All Sorts of Subjects at Random as Though He Knew Everything

Crescent City Fais Do Do

Oh, you don’t know me if you think I’m finished with New Orleans. Because New Orleans is the home of all sorts of the greatest american music, which means the greatest music anywhere.

It’s spanish and french and sicilian and neapolitan and arab and indians and acadian and irish and scots and deepest darkest africa, baby.

I’m going to do this from memory:

Jelly Roll Morton – raggin on yer stride, or stridin’ on your rag
Louis Armstrong- where’s my laxatives and trumpet?
Louis Prima- the greatest show ever
Dixie Cups- Iko Iko, no t Ikea!
Clifton Chenier- less cowbell- more washboard!

Meters- words optional
All those Marsalis fellows- a dog in every fight
Professor Longhair- no truth in advertising
Mac Rebbenack the Night Tripper-right place, right time
Alan Touissant- pianny please
Lee Dorsey- The Kid Chocolate, workin’ in a coal mine
Fats Domino- still there
Little Richard Penniman recorded there with:
Bumps Blackwell – more fun than a bear on the street, with more hair
Rufus and Carla Thomas -gee whiz
Sidney Bechet!- that’s how Van Morrison always says it; with an exclamation point
Lloyd Price -too black for American Bandstand. Just right for me.
King Floyd – groove me!
Mahalia Jackson- angels take notes
Marcia Ball – I played with her once. Her legs go right to the ground, as unlikely as that seems

We could always drive up the road to Mississippi and find my old friend Albert King, if we got bored.

You wanna know how great New Orleans music is, and was? I bet I forgot 500 people, and it don’t matter.

(updated: lohwoman reminds us of: Preservation Hall Jazz Band with Sweet Emma. OK, so we’ve only forgotten 499 people now.)

3 Responses

  1. Preservation Hall Jazz Band with Sweet Emma. Some guy leaning against a building in the French Quarter playing his saxophone. Other guys sitting around playing on tourists’ sympathy and asking for money. We’re batting .666. just featured “Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?” and “Way Down Yonder in New Orleans” as his Song of the Week. Since the first song never moved me very much, obviously I don’t know what it means to miss New Orleans. “Way Down Yonder” is another matter. A great tune to have in your head for the day.

  2. You played with Miss Marcia Ball? For serious? Now there’s a story I’d like to hear.

    Of course I’m impressed as all get-out that you spun these from memory.

    But that’s a mere time-wasting compliment before I go back to read more. Found you via Rigor Vitae, BTW.

  3. lori- I’m sorry, I missed your comment earlier.

    A lovely internet friend I have from NO jogged my memory on Althouse blog about Marcia Ball. I was a musician for a long time, and for a while I would play with anyone, and did. I can barely remember all the different people I played with. I believe I opened for Marcia Ball in Providence in the early eighties, or it might have been Koko Taylor, and Marcia Ball showed up.

    The only way I could tell, was to describe Marcia Ball to the NO native and she said; Yeah! that’s her! I like her playing “red beans cooking.” Fabulous.

    Thanks for stopping by and commenting.

    Also: “for serious?” is a marvelous expression. You muss nah be fum aroun heyah.

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