Heaven Help Us All

1972

Jackson Free Press

September 24, 2008

In post-World War II American history, 1968 was a seminal year. It began with a brutal awakening with the Tet Offensive in Vietnam and culminated in the election of President Richard Nixon. Between these benchmarks were the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert Kennedy, a riotous Democratic convention in Chicago and the Soviet Union’s invasion of Czechoslovakia to put down a growing political liberation.

It was a momentous year in history, and the artists of the day delivered a comparable musical soundtrack. There were songs reflecting the fatigue overtaking the country providing the strength to endure (“Mrs. Robinson,” “Dock of the Bay”), and there were songs calling for unity (“People Got to Be Free,” “Everyday People”). Then there were songs that combined the mood and the message. The Rolling Stones’ “Gimme Shelter” is the best example. It pulls off both without resorting to heavy-handedness, a trait that enables it to live on through strife and prosperity.

In ’69 and ’70, conditions did not markedly improve abroad or on the homefront, and the music of the time reflected this impasse. “Fortunate Son” by Creedence Clearwater Revival and “Heaven Help Us All” by Stevie Wonder were two indispensable social-awareness songs released in those years. Both reached Top 10 status on the Billboard charts.

Marvin Gaye released his classic “What’s Going On” in 1973, and Stevie Wonder released a series of albums with recurring global- and domestic-conscious themes through the ’90s.

Yet singles and albums of this sort have all but disappeared. Why?

Say what you want about radio, but one thing has never changed: Top 40 stations have always tripped over their heels to play the newest single by the biggest artists. If you present the new Miley Cyrus song, it gets four plays an hour on the local station in 2008, just as the newest CCR song did in 1970.

But credit goes to record labels and artists who refused to let the non-threatening, asinine singles topping the charts intimidate them. (“Happy Together” and “I’m a Believer” were both Top 5 songs of 1967.) The increase in social awareness of the late ’60s was a result of their refusal. Labels and artists today have yet to take this step.

The vast majority of Americans agree that we’re headed in the wrong direction, and the country has never felt so divided. One feels a growing market for a song attempting to reduce this simmering acrimony. Where are the songs reminding us that a Republican family going through foreclosure in rural Texas is just as tragic as a Democratic father losing his job in urban Boston? A straightforward song reminding us of this could prove very profitable, and at the very least would be therapeutic for the nation’s battle-weary soul.

Instead, though, the music industry has ignored America’s growing quandary. We now find ourselves in the deepest depths of a post-Sept. 11 world, and the No. 1 song is about a girl enjoying kissing another girl. Even Kanye West, once so incensed about Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath, seems to have lost the fortitude to apply a catchy hook to a socially meaningful song.

The parallels between 1968 and 2008 continue to grow. However, artists’ gustiness of those days has been replaced by an apparent redoubled effort to keep the people apathetic.

Something needs to change.

It would be a shame if when history is written on this era, we were embarrassed by the soundtrack.

Original Article

Still Fighting

Alejandro Escovedo

Jackson Free Press

August 27, 2008

Few artists have the kind of a story to tell about the fragility of life as Alejandro Escovedo. He has used his previous two albums—2006’s “Boxing Mirror” and the recently released “Real Animal”—to deliver his message.

In 2003, complications from untreated Hepatitis C, which Escovedo had contracted and lived with for years, left him teetering on the brink of death. Escovedo, like many up-and-coming musicians, did not have health insurance and needed thousands of dollars for treatment.

Realizing his plight, many of his fellow musicians banded together to record an album, “Por Vida: A Tribute to the Songs of Alejandro Escovedo.” It was one of the better-received tribute albums in recent years. The group also organized numerous benefit shows to further aid the cost of treatment.

In 2005, when Escovedo was healthy again, he went to work recording “The Boxing Mirror.”

The album was considerably more somber than Escovedo’s previous records, but it was one of the strongest albums in his catalog. Each song portrayed a man reevaluating his life, not afraid to let the listener sneak inside his head.

After extensive touring, complete with a supporting string section, Escovedo returned to the studio to record “Real Animal.” If “Boxing Mirror” raises consciousness of the fragility of life, then “Real Animal” reminds us that despite this fragility, life still must be lived.

“Always a Friend,” the opening track of “Real Animal,” sets the album’s tone. It is a straightforward rock ‘n’ roll track that becomes ingrained in your head before the second verse has concluded. Its groove and sound would fit well on Elvis Costello’s “This Year’s Model” were it little more cynical.

Escovedo covers many stages of his life and musical career in this album. In “Golden Bear,” he sings about when the creative seed was planted in him; In “Nun’s Song,” he pays tribute to his punk outfit The Nuns; he relives time spent with ’80s garage legends The Replacements and Green on Red in “Sensitive Boys.”

Throughout, he gives nods to his musical influences, most evident in his raucous tribute to The Stooges, “Real as an Animal.” The song features a driving guitar that would do Iggy Pop proud.

The message of “Real Animal” is captured in “People (We’re Only Gonna Live So Long),” which efficiently ties together all the overriding themes of the album. It is a bluesy celebration of lifestyles in this country and a call to unify. He never preaches, instead opting to be playful, yet he still coveys an urgency in his message. Clearly speaking from experience, he reminds us, “We still have time, but never quite as much as we think.”

“Real Animal” is a life-affirming album when most music coming out is anything but. It urges us not to forget where we came from and to cherish our past experiences, because we can never be quite sure what’s in front of us.

In a time of divisiveness and widespread animosity over often-petty issues, it’s a message that we need to hear.

Original Article

Hip-Hop Reboot

The Cool Kids- throwbacks in every way

Jackson Free Press

July 30, 2008

There is a growing trend in the entertainment industry—especially in the movie and comic book mediums—of rebooting. Rebooting often occurs when a story has either run its course or has fallen out of favor with audiences. The fruits of one of the most recent examples was on display when “The Dark Knight” hit theaters. Audiences had grown tired of the over the top, comic book-y “Batman” portrayed in “Batman and Robin,” and the studios followed the masses’ wishes. Joker and Two Face have both been killed in Batman movies, yet there they both are in “Dark Knight.” This reboot has taken elements of things that worked in the original movies (bleak tone) while omitting other things that didn’t (Joker dancing around to Prince).

Like the movie industry, the hip-hop music industry has heard growing unrest from its fans that grew up with Jay-Z, 2Pac, A Tribe Called Quest, and other legends of the mid-’90s. The fact that the last five years has produced only one definite immortal act (Kanye West) is a testament to the lack of interest in cultivating performers by the industry. Whereas hip-hop used to give equal play to the DJs and the MCs, there is no balance anymore as the MCs’ job now is to stay out of the way of the hot beat and not upstage it.

Enter Mikey Rocks and Chuck Inglish from Chicago, and the hip-hop reboot movement has begun. The Cool Kids, who have built a following in the Windy City, recently released their debut LP, “The Bake Sale.”

The Cool Kids have a stripped back sound that would fit in 20 years ago. Their beats are decidedly and confidently old-school, sounding as if they were produced with a Casio keyboard and an eight-track recorder. They rarely stray beyond drum machines, bass thumps, and synthesized sounds or voices. Yet in this simplicity there is a hypnotic complexity. The opening song, “What up Man,” has a beat consisting of a drum machine and three alternating voices saying, “tick,” “clap” and “bass,” which is as compelling as any beat on the Top 40 right now.

The rhymes, too, are throwback. They make reference to themselves as “The new black version of the Beastie Boys,” which is an apt comparison. The mood and content of the lyrics are reminiscent of Licensed to Ill/Paul’s Boutique-era Beasties. The braggadocio and playful tone is both self-assuredly geeky (multiple “Star Wars” references, extensive quoting of “Safety Dance” on the song “88”) and indisputably cool (“I separate people from squares like a nicotine patch”).

The shortcoming of “The Bake Sale” is found in the overall flow of the record. While the two MCs share the DJ duties, there is frustratingly little scratch work on “The Bake Sale,” a trait that is present in and vital to most minimalist classics from the ’80s. This lack of identifying traits leads to the beats—though great on an individual level—blending together with continuous listening. With the exception of two up-tempo songs, “What It Is” and “Bassment Party,” the beats are essentially uniform in pace and not enough differentiates each one to make the album flow coherently and maintain your interest.

The Cool Kids have certainly hit on something with “The Bake Sale.” By stripping hip-hop of all the bells and whistles that have been added to it in the past few years, they have something that resembles what we grew up on. It will be exciting to see where this reboot leads.

Original Article

Evading Musical Immortality

Coldplay

Jackson Free Press

July 2, 2008

In 1994, at the height of grunge mania, Bush released its debut record “Sixteen Stone.” Grunge fans ate it up and made the record go multi-platinum despite the band taking heat from critics for being just another Nirvana knock-off. When it came time to release its follow-up record, rather than try to carve its own niche in the ‘90s sound- as, say, fellow grunge act Pearl Jam was on their way to doing- it chose to enlist Steve Albini, Nirvana’s producer on “In Utero” and pushed full speed ahead formulaically. As a result, the band’s sophomore album, “Razorblade Suitcase,” turned out to be a critical and commercial flop. Bush has fallen by the wayside while Pearl Jam still sells out arenas.

Coldplay has reached this juncture. The band came onto the scene with 2000’s “Parachutes,” displaying a sound reminiscent to “Siamese Dream” era Smashing Pumpkins. Then, in 2002, came “A Rush of Blood to the Head” which established the band’s potential as an iconic act. The lead single off the album, “In My Place,” remains one of the best singles of the past decade. Coldplay’s third effort, “X&Y,” though over-bloated, proved the band was indeed evolving musically, albeit slowly, and was here to stay.

The main thing that Coldplay has been able to do consistently, which is not recognized nearly enough, is write and perform intricately orchestrated, instrumentally overpowering songs (their songs routinely have a litany of string instruments) without overdoing it. Many have compared the group to U2 largely because of this reason and indeed, it’s becoming an increasingly apt assessment.

So when it came time to pick a producer for “Viva La Vida,” like Bush, the band members had two choices. Either conform to what people want Coldplay to be; or put out something that will allow their name to stand alone. The group chose the former by enlisting U2’s longtime producer Brian Eno, and as a result, have its most U2 sounding record to date.

Even the opening bars of the first song of the record, “Life in Technicolor,” bear a striking resemblance to the opening bars of U2’s classic “Pride (In the Name of Love).” The lead single off the record, “Viva La Vida,” despite being a great pop single, has an opening flagrantly lifted from U2’s “Beautiful Day.” Guitarist Jonny Buckland sounds as though he is morphing more and more into The Edge from U2.

The band has for the most part shortened the songs since “X&Y,” which is much appreciated. The album features three six-plus minute opuses, which unfortunately leave the listener wishing they could have trimmed a minute or two off the running time.

“Viva La Vida” does have its bright spots. The title track is one of the strongest the band has recorded yet. In “42,” the act manages to make a four-minute epic, which is equally, if not more impressive, than a seven-minute one. The instrumentation remains fascinating, and the album features a solid instrumental track.

While “Viva La Vida” is by no means a “Razorblade Suitcase”-esque debacle, it still leaves you a little frustrated. Coldplay seems to be unwilling to separate too far from the sound that brought such early success. As a result, the classic album that will lift them into musical immortality continues to elude them. Hopefully that album comes soon. A lot of us are getting impatient.

Original Article

Reinventing a Legend

Al Green- Lay it Down

Jackson Free Press

June 4, 2008

When a music icon decides to break back into the mainstream, the popular strategy is to enlist a hot producer who can help update his or her sound for the current mainstream, while often peppering the resulting album with the hot artists of today. Of course, this is often met with disastrous results. The best you can hope for is what Aerosmith got with “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing.” It made them famous again, but also alienated their longtime fans who didn’t remember the band sounding like a bunch of Marys.

Al Green took a similar path in his new record “Lay it Down,” enlisting ?uestlove, of The Roots, to produce. For those unfamiliar with ?uestlove as a producer, he was a driving force behind several of the most important hip-hop records of the last 10 years, including all of The Roots’ records and Common’s “Like Water for Chocolate.” Furthermore, he was one of the brains behind the best R&B record of the decade with D’Angelo’s “Voodoo.”

At his best, ?uestlove is able to seamlessly cross genres, and has meshed hip-hop and R&B better than just about any other producer. He understands his artists’ influences, even if the artists themselves aren’t familiar with them, and records their albums accordingly.

So what did ?uestlove do with Al Green, who is a major influence among all of his artists and one of the undisputed pioneers of his genre? He reverses precedent, and rather than trying to add some fresh flavor, he goes back to the exact sound that made Al Green the icon that he is—underscore “exact.”

Most of “Lay It Down” makes you feel like you just climbed out of a time machine in the 1970s. Everything—from the muffled drums on “Stay With Me,” to the horn inflections on “No One Like You,” to the organ tone on “What More Do You Want From Meԗsounds like it could have come from the same recording session as “Let’s Stay Together” or “Love and Happiness.”

For the obligatory guest appearances from today’s top Billboard artists, ?uestlove included Anthony Hamilton, Corinne Bailey Rae and John Legend. He makes them cater to Al Green’s sound rather than vice-versa, while never allowing them to overpower Green.

The problem with the production is that if you are listening to an Al Green record that sounds like it was recorded in 1971, then you want the singles’ quality to resemble that of 1971 Al Green, when he released “Tired of Being Alone” and “Let’s Stay Together” back-to-back. While there are a few songs on the record that you wouldn’t mind being put into radio rotation—namely the title track and “Take Your Timeԗthere’s nothing that you could insert onto his greatest hits record without it sounding slightly out of place.

I give credit to Al Green and ?uestlove for doing this comeback album right. They stay true to the formula that made the artist great while never letting the production or guests overshadow the star of the show. And while the slight decline in creative juice may have resulted in this album missing the “classic” label it was shooting for, it is still a good escape to close your eyes and take yourself back three decades to a time when R&B that featured horns, organs and nuance was able to top the charts.

Original Article

How Not to Put on a Concert

Jackson Free Press

May 21, 2008

Going to an awful concert is like going to an awful movie. You hate yourself for supporting the beast, yet you almost perversely cherish the memory. You can’t wait to tell your friends about the flagrant violation of music and performance rules. A couple of weeks ago, I sat through a set by the Maelstrom Trio, a New Orleans band, and knew their transgressions had to be addressed.

One of the first things you learn in any improvisational music class is to face the audience when you are performing a solo. Not acknowledging the audience during a solo is like a stand-up comedian telling jokes to the stage manager. This is a concert, not a play, and there is no imaginary wall between you and the audience. The saxophone player in the Trio didn’t seem to realize the audience wasn’t amused by him squarely facing the drummer, 90 degrees to his left, and giving him a giggly nod when he slyly adjusted the beat.

Next, don’t conduct a concert like a jam session at your mom’s house. The sax player violated this rule, too. He spent a significant part of the set seemingly experimenting with a modulator for his saxophone. You may wonder why you don’t see a saxophone modulator at many concerts. This is because a saxophone, like most wind instruments, is naturally very expressive and can tonally match most sounds or emotions. If you want to strip your sax of its soul by hooking it up to a computer, keep it in your basement. If you want your saxophone to sound like a guitar, buy a damn guitar.

If you fall between genres, choose your label carefully. It’s difficult to include words such as “high concept” (as the Trio did) or “bombastic” in your self-defined genre classification without sounding like a flaming mass of pretentiousness. Generally, artists who are talented enough to use the word “concept” in their work are smart enough to shy away from it, knowing the ramifications and preconceived notions that come with it.

Watch the vibe you are giving off. What fun is it for the audience to watch a band that is emitting the “just messing around, I want to try to hook my modulator up to my saxophone” vibe, as the Maelstrom Trio did? And I’m not talking about the band trying something different on a solo or experimenting with harmonies (think “OK Computer”). Trying something like that is like driving to California and taking a random shortcut or detour on the way. It’s a spontaneous, hit-or-miss decision that will be learned from regardless. What I’m talking about is the band that decides halfway to the West Coast that they want to go to New York instead, seemingly just to reaffirm their “experimental,” “high concept” status to the crowd.

Watching the Maelstrom Trio violate these rules of performance made me feel like I was hanging around a bunch of people I didn’t know, being completely excluded from their conversation and unending stream of inside jokes. There were two possible reactions to this situation: either pretend to know what’s going on and act enthusiastic about whatever “high concept” hair-brained idea is parlayed; or, turn to the guy next to me, talk about all the reasons bands like this shouldn’t exist, and complain about the exorbitant cover charge.

I chose the latter.

Original Article

Paint it Black, Crowes

The Black Crowes- Warpaint

Jackson Free Press

April 23, 2008

What are the qualifications for a perfect greatest-hits record? If someone who owns an artist’s entire catalogue can sell them all, buy the greatest hits with some of their earnings, and not feel screwed over by the omitted songs, nor find any unnecessary tracks to fill the requisite running time, that record fits the bill. As a result, the Black Crowes’ 2000 release, “A Tribute to a Work in Progress,” ranks right up there with LL Cool J’s “All World” as a greatest-hits record that render an artist’s entire album catalog obsolete.

That’s not to say the Crowes haven’t come close to having a great album. Their 1992 album, “The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion,” was close. It struck a near perfect balance between their two biggest influences—The Rolling Stones and The Faces—without being too derivative of either. However, the greatest hits album represents the balance well.

When the Black Crowes are at their best, they are able to mesh blues, rock, country and R&B better than almost any band on the planet, short of the Stones. Furthermore, Chris Robinson (aka ex-Mr. Kate Hudson), has a voice to perfectly suit the combination.

“Warpaint,” their newest record and first studio album since 2001’s dismal “Lions,” is their best album since “Southern Harmony and Musical Companion.” It is the first album-centric Black Crowes record in a long time, because it doesn’t consist of one or two quality singles and 10 b-sides.

The album takes a page from the Stones’ “Exile on Main Street,” and kick-starts itself with opening track, “Goodbye Daughters of the Revolution.” Reminiscent of “Rocks Off,” Exile’s opening song, it sets the tone for the rest of the album. It is guitar-driven with a multi-layered, catchy chorus and a Jagger-esque swagger.

Unlike previous albums, the up-tempo songs are not the only high points. The Crowes haven’t had a great slow song since “Good Friday” on 1996’s “Three Snakes and One Charm.” “Oh Josephine” tries to shake this slump, and while it doesn’t quite measure up to “Good Friday,” it does capture Robinson at his most soulful, and his brother, guitarist Rich Robinson, at his wailing, pleading best.

Interestingly, many of the other highlights of the album are departures from the traditional Black Crowes sound. “Locust Street” is uncharacteristically minimalist. “God’s Got It,” the album’s lone cover, is old-fashioned, stripped-to-the-bones, foot-stomping blues. The album’s closer, “Whoa Mule,” is a Band-meets-Stones, folky jam that surely will appeal to the Crowes’ established jam-band fanbase.

The biggest flaws on the record come when the band is focused more on recreating The Rolling Stones instead of incorporating the style into their own unique sound, such as on “Goodbye Daughters of the Revolution.” A great example of this is “Movin’ on Down the Line,” a near copy of “Let it Loose,” the climax of “Exile on Main Street.” The song sounds like a recording that fan-boys may have sent the Stones trying to get an opening spot on the Exile tour.

“Warpaint” seems to be an artistic fork in the road for the Black Crowes. Now that they have established their return, they can either go back to hiding an album of fluff behind a couple of quality songs, or they can try to one-up themselves and reach for their potential to put out a great album. After hearing the multiple styles and instrumentations on “Warpaint,” I’m convinced they have it in them.

Original Article

Wired for Success

The Wire

Jackson Free Press

April 9, 2008

Over the past 10 years, the entertainment quality of television has risen to nearly surpass that of cinema. TV shows such as “The Sopranos” and “The Office” offer better drama and comedy than you will see in any movie playing at your local multiplex today. Movie studios are now adapting television series to the big screen, a reversal in the general spin-off hierarchy. Only a couple years ago, “My Big Fat Greek Life” was trying to capitalize on the success of “My Big Fat Greek Wedding.” Adapted-from-TV-movies in the works include “Arrested Development” and “Jericho.” I’ll pause and let the one person reading this who’s actually seen “Jericho” give his confused buddy a high five.

The leader of the pack in the new wave of cinematic-inspired television is, of course, HBO. The network jump-started the new movement when they debuted “The Sopranos” 10 years ago. Since then, they have debuted shows such as “Rome,” “Deadwood” and “Sex and the City,” which could have just as easily been pulled from the movie theater.

The HBO series that dwarfed all these shows is “The Wire,” which is set in Baltimore’s streets, mayor’s office and everywhere in between. It tackles the drug trade in the city better than anything ever put on television or film. Though critical attention came a little late, it is now recognized for what it is: one of the best shows ever put on television. Going from watching “The Wire” to any other show currently on television makes the latter look dull, meandering and a bit too “Hollywood.”

One of the qualities needed to produce a quality television series is good musical taste. The brains behind “The Sopranos” understood this, which is a major reason the show was so popular. Viewers knew each episode would either introduce them to or remind them of a great song or artist. For instance, after watching an episode featuring The Chi-Lites’ “Oh Girl,” I pulled their greatest-hits record that had long been gathering dust in my CD collection.

“The Wire” understood this as well, and reflected a similar disposition to great music. However, while “The Sopranos” used music in the forefront as a tool to further dramatic tension, “The Wire”—with the exception of the montages at the end of every season—used music in the background and did not flagrantly intend it to increase the scene’s power. The music you hear on the show is the music being played in the scene. Whether it be from someone’s car radio or a bar jukebox, it is by no means the centerpiece of the scene.

“… And All the Pieces Matter: Five Years of Music from The Wire” finally collects many of these songs previously only played from a street-corner boombox on the show. It is a sprawling effort, much like the show itself, featuring 35 songs and running nearly 80 minutes.

The soundtrack features the first four seasons’ covers of the Tom Waits-penned theme song, “Way Down in the Hole.” The Blind Boys of Alabama, The Neville Brothers and Domaje all offer unique takes on Waits’ original. It is unfortunately missing the fifth season’s version, performed by Steve Earle; but Earle, also a recurring character on the show, is included on the set with the great “Feel Alright.”

It is a record, like any great soundtrack, that can be enjoyed by both seasoned fans and strangers to the show. After all, Solomon Burke’s “Fast Train” and The Pogues’ “Body of An American” are great songs whether you hear them on a television show or not.

Fans mourned the departure of “The Wire,” but “… And All the Pieces Matter”—short of a surprise sixth season—is the best parting gift the show could offer.

Original Article

Jazzy and Be-Boppin: Jazzfest 2008 Preview

Bettye Lavette

Jackson Free Press

March 26, 2008

With Jazzfest less than a month away, it is time to clear your schedule and figure out which days to attend. Each day has some high points and some equally expendable ones. Here is your guide:

Friday, April 25: I don’t readily admit it, but I have always been a closet fan of Sheryl Crow. I am the guy over age 11 who continues to happily allow “Soak up the Sun” to infect my being. Her and the tag team Alison Krauss and Robert Plant promise to be two highlights of the first day.

Saturday, April 26: This is the best day to skip. The lineup is mediocre, and the audience will be no doubt be one of the most crowded because of Billy Joel’s presence. One of the only reasons I can think of to succumb to such a large crowd is, ironically, to get away from seeing Billy Joel.

Sunday, April 27: This day more than makes up for Saturday. Irma Thomas is a knock-out headliner and will share the day with Al Green, and Elvis Costello with Allen Toussaint. There’s going to be a “Sophie’s Choice” dilemma here, as at least two of these artists will be performing at the same time on different stages. It makes you wish they had thrown at least one of these acts up on a stage against Billy Joel.

Ponderosa Stomp Festival: This annual festival is held April 29 and 30 and features a more interesting lineup than any of the individual Jazzfest days. Slated to perform are Ronnie Spector, Roky Erickson (from the forgotten acid-rock band The 13th Floor Elevators), ? and The Mysterians, Dr. John and a host of other forgotten though equally influential names.

Thursday, May 1: The other relatively weak lineup, this day at least features one of the most overlooked soul singers from Muscle Shoals in Bettye LaVette. Her story deserves an article unto itself, but she released one of 2007’s best albums in “Scene of the Crime.” She promises to be a great show and worth the price of admission herself.

Friday, May 2: The other reason I would stand in a crowd the size of Billy Joel’s is to see Stevie Wonder who, coincidentally, is playing today. This is the one day not to miss (and worth taking a vacation day for) solely because of Stevie. His tours are more expensive than they are rare.

Saturday, May 3: For anyone who has never seen The Roots in concert, this day is worth checking out. They are a band of trained and talented musicians (not just stiffs who picked up guitars and wandered into the studio because they wanted to do something against the mainstream, a la Lauryn Hill). Furthermore, they keep the good-time party aesthetic of old-school hip-hop alive, worrying less about proving their realness than having a good time and projecting that onto the crowd.

Sunday, May 4: Early in the day, a tribute to gospel great Mahalia Jackson featuring Irma Thomas, Marva Wright and Raychell Richard promises to be strong. The festival closes with another loaded lineup, with The Neville Brothers headlining with The Raconteurs and one of New Orleans’ premier brass bands, Rebirth Brass Band.

Every year Jazzfest does a great job at drawing acts from the ’60s through the present along with at least one icon that has stayed relevant throughout that entire span. The festival succeeds once again this year with interesting, supporting and headlining artists along with one of the most iconic in American music in Stevie Wonder.

Original Article

Not for Posers- A St. Patrick’s Day Mix

The Undertones

Jackson Free Press

March 12, 2008

Let’s talk about the co-option of holidays. The one you always hear people complaining about is Christmas. But a holiday that has been subtly, though nearly as thoroughly co-opted is St. Patrick’s Day. The villains are the guys prancing around in their “Kiss Me I’m Sh*tfaced!” T-shirts, telling people how many beers they’ve had. We can only guess these are the people who scream out “SPRING BREAK!!” to remind a crowd of college kids in Cancun where they are.

Luckily, the music has yet to be adversely affected. The artists that many think of when they think of “Irish music” both past and present are ubiquitous on the holiday. U2, The Pogues, Van Morrison and The Dropkick Murphys all get their time in the sun.

So here is a playlist that should make you the most-loved guy in the bar, and will ideally cost you just $2 (7 plays on the jukebox):

U2, “Where the Streets Have No Name”: U2 has become the band whose songs bar-goers play to “honor” the Irish, kind of like the way you might play Springsteen on New Jersey Day if such a holiday existed. Don’t play this after 3 p.m., though, because by that point, everyone in the bar has heard the song at least 20 times thanks to similar Irish patriots like yourself.

The Undertones, “Teenage Kicks”: This is an underrated classic by one of the great bands out of Northern Ireland. It’s a song everyone at the bar needs to know to be fully versed in Irish pop music, so it’s best to get it in before everyone is too faded.

Van Morrison, “Wild Night”: Of course there are better Van Morrison songs, but this is one that people know and hasn’t been played to death (e.g. “Brown Eyed Girl”).

The Pogues, “The Sickbed of Cuchulainn”: Our first traditional-sounding Irish pub song. No doubt there will be someone in the bar at this point drunk enough to try to do an Irish jig and make an a** of himself.

Stiff Little Fingers, “Alternative Ulster”: At this point, you locate the one guy actually from Ireland who for some reason is in the bar, and he animatedly gives you a history of The Troubles. You sit rapt as your friend comments he’s seen “In the Name of the Father.”

The Tossers, “Good Morning Da”: Another traditional-sounding Irish song the bar will love. You get your moment in the sun when you correct the guy who inevitably asks if it’s The Pogues.

The Dropkick Murphys, “The Wild Rover”: The perfect drinking song. It has a sing-along chorus complete with claps/foot stomps for the bar and verses that you can convincingly stumble along to even if you have no idea what the lyrics actually are. It’s the best song to end on. That is, unless if you have a downer conversation about life with your friend, in which case you may be better off playing “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.”

So enjoy the music of the day while it lasts. For like Christmas before it, you never know when Josh Groban will take a stab at Irish music.

Original Article