Lafayette’s Northgate Mall is a dying mall, if not a dead mall, which is somewhat peculiar, as it is much closer to I-10 and I-49 than is the Acadiana Mall on Johnson Street which has fared so much better. But aside from a couple of hip-hop clothing shops and a barber shop, the one thing that keeps people going to Northgate Mall is Lafayette’s venerable House Rockers Record Shop, a neighborhood institution where people come for zydeco, soul, blues, gospel and local hip-hop. At a time when so many record stores are closing, House Rockers seems to be thriving, even in a mall that isn’t.
House Rockers Record Shop
1800 NE Evangeline Thruway
Lafayette, LA 70501
(337) 234-6231
I learned about the Blues At Home Blowout at the Lamar Lounge from attorney Tom Freeland’s excellent North Mississippi Commentor blog, which is a great online destination for all things Oxford, from music, to legal things to Faulknerian lore, so even though I had just gone to Oxford the week before, I had to go again. The line-up displayed on the poster was absolutely amazing, and I frankly could not imagine how all of those artists would be able to perform even in the three hours or so allotted for the concert. As it turned out, not all the performers listed appeared, but even so, the three hours were jam-packed with blues, and everything got worked in by the expedient of having Jimbo Mathus on drums for everyone, and keeping the same bass player throughout, and they did a yeoman’s job, although I’m sure they were quite tired when it was all over. The event was actually an after-party for Mississippi artist H.C. Porter‘s remarkable Blues At Home exhibit at the University of Mississippi, and fearing that I wouldn’t get a table in front of the stage otherwise, I showed up at the Lamar Lounge two hours before starting time. As it turned out, Jimbo Mathus performed a dinner hour set on guitar with his bass player for an hour before the starting time for the concert. He then switched to drums, and the first performer of the night came on stage, 82-year-old Leo “Bud” Welch, who released his first album Sabougla Voices this year on Fat Possum Records‘ Big Legal Mess subsidiary. He was followed by Hattiesburg/Jackson bluesman Vasti Jackson, a musician I had often heard my poet friend Charlie Braxton mention. Vasti Jackson was followed by Natchez blues guitarist Y.Z. Ealey, who is a brother of Southern soul star Theodis Ealey, and whose style showed a considerable influence from swamp blues and swamp pop. He was joined by Broke and Hungry Records artist Terry “Harmonica” Bean sitting in on harmonica. Mickey Rogers was up next, a blues guitarist I had seen last year on a trip to Indianola, and then Jackson-based Jesse Robinson came up, a guitarist I was really not familiar with, but whose guitar skills amazed everyone in the room. Behind him came Kenny Brown, the hometown favorite who grew up with blues legend Joe Callicot in Nesbit, Mississippi and who studied with the late R. L. Burnside. His music can always get an Oxford crowd to their feet, and what little space was available for dancing was soon filled. Finally, the headliner of the night, Bobby Rush came and performed very briefly, as he had driven down from an earlier performance at Rhodes College in Memphis. Altogether it was an amazing night of Mississippi blues, from a number of different performers than the ones often seen in North Mississippi, and there was a sort of lagniappe when, quite unexpectedly, Vasti Jackson and Bobby Rush launched a brief guitar and harmonica duo on the back patio near the barbecue pit. All in all, one of the most memorable Mississippi blues nights ever.
One of the interesting things about Oxford, Mississippi is the extent of their live music scene for being such a small town. Of course the University of Mississippi is there, but there’s almost more live music in Oxford than in Memphis sometimes, and that can make for some interesting dilemmas, such as the one March 28, where Duwayne Burnside and the Rev. John Wilkins were at the Powerhouse, and Eric Deaton, one of the late R.L. Burnside’s disciples, was at The Blind Pig on Lamar. Although I chose to go to the Powerhouse initially, around 10 PM or so I decided to head over to the Blind Pig and catch the end of Eric Deaton’s set. As it turned out, Duwayne Burnside’s brother Garry was over there, and sat in with Eric Deaton’s trio on several songs. Not long after that, Duwayne Burnside and a lot of other people came over from the Powerhouse as that event had ended, and it ended up being a great ending to an amazing night of Hill Country blues in Oxford. And the rain had finally ended too.
It’s a long way from Beirut to Memphis, and Lebanon is definitely not the first place you think of when it comes to blues, but that didn’t stop the Wanton Bishops, a Beirut-based blues/rock band, some of whose members had met outside a well-known Beirut blues bar. After several years of growing popularity in Lebanon, Turkey and France, the Bishops started gaining attention from American audiences as well. Sponsored by Red Bull, the Wanton Bishops ended their triumphant appearance at South By Southwest in Austin with a journey up Highway 61 from New Orleans to Memphis by way of Clarksdale, documented by a film crew. Perhaps the apotheosis of that journey was a recording session in a most appropriate place, Boo Mitchell’s legendary Royal Studios in South Memphis, the place where classic recordings were made by Al Green, Otis Clay, Syl Johnson, O. V. Wright and many others. For young, blues-loving men from the Middle East, it must have seemed like the dream of a lifetime. Although it took all day, it resulted in one perfect song, and some lasting memories.
After an early morning breakfast at the Magnolia Cafe, I parked my car downtown and set out walking across the bridge to Austin’s Butler Park, where there was an afternoon-long concert being held of Memphis music, scheduled to coincide with the film Take Me To The River, which was screened several times at South By Southwest this year. Despite the threat of rain, there was a decent crowd at the outdoor stage, and although rain started several times during the afternoon, it never continued long enough to run people off, and the day ended with the sun coming out. After an hour of so of DJ mixing from a really cool DJ, the show opened with a performance from the Hi Rhythm Section, and then a number of musicians featured in the film appeared, including Bobby Rush, Frayser Boy, Al Kapone, William Bell, Booker T. Jones, Charlie Musselwhite, Luther Dickinson, Cody Dickinson, Otis Clay, Iffy, Miscelllaneous Bosslife and Syl Johnson. Perhaps the high point of the day was when Snoop Doggy Dogg appeared without warning to join William Bell in a version of the classic “I Forgot To Be Your Lover.” It was actually a great day for Memphis and for Austin as well.
When I walked down Red River Street across Cesar Chavez, I heard an incredible band playing on the porch of a house. There was some sort of art party going on there, and I really never found out whether it was supposed to be open to the public or not, but I found the music irresistible and wandered on in, and at any rate, nobody told me to leave. Sensing that these older musicians might be well-known, I asked the man standing next to me if he knew who they were. He said that it was a band consisting of former members of the Texas Tornados and Doug Sahm’s band, but that he thought they were calling themselves the Kramdens now, or something like that. I listened for awhile, and then headed on down to Rainey Street.
I had been looking forward to the Wanton Bishops performance at the Symphony House. Needless to say, I was curious about a Lebanese blues band anyway, and certainly eager to hear them, and besides, my friend Matt Sonzala was to be there as well, since Red Bull was a sponsor of the band’s trip to the United States, and the whole event was being filmed for inclusion in a documentary, and I would get to see him. Unfortunately, none of it was to be, because the Symphony House was one block north of the site of the previous night’s horrific carnage in the drunk driving incident. For whatever reason (for the event had had no impact on the Symphony House or anything else in that block of Red River Street), the Austin Symphony withdrew permission for the use of the house for the performance, citing the tragedy of the night before, and so I found I had walked up there for nothing at all. In the block to the south where the actual incident occurred, an industrial cleaning firm was already on the job cleaning up the site, something that I suppose was necessary although it seemed a little cold and cynical. News media outlets were set up all along Red River and surrounding streets.
Such tragedies happen in locations across America, and they usually don’t create the strong sense of shock and outrage that this did, and for awhile I couldn’t imagine why. Then it hit me. We love festivals, whether South By Southwest or Jazz Fest or Beale Street Music Festival or Mardi Gras, because they replace the real, everyday world with its crimes and problems, with an alternate world where everything is fun and music. For a few days, we can live in this alternate, better universe that the festival provides. So when something awful happens, like a tragic accident, or a violent crime, we feel outraged. The real world has invaded our party, forcing its way back into our face. It’s no wonder all of us were angered and shocked. Nobody likes to be reminded of death while they are having a good time.
Young Clifford Antone had left his hometown of Port Arthur, Texas in 1968 to attend the University of Texas at Austin, but his college career was cut short by a marijuana arrest. What could have been the beginning of a downward spiral was anything but for Antone, who in 1975 founded a night club that would prove to be one of the greatest blues night clubs in the world. Antone’s moved several times over its long career in Austin, but its impact was significant in the city, helping to establish the reputation Austin enjoys today as the “Live Music Capital of the World.” By 1987, the night club had inspired a record label called Antone’s, and a retail record shop of the same name on Guadalupe Street near the University of Texas campus. The empire that seemed impregnable began to fall apart after Clifford Antone’s death, however. The record label failed after acquiring the assets of another bankrupt Austin label called Watermelon Records. A bankruptcy auction left the Antone’s masters in the hands of New West Records, where at least some of them are still available. The club became more of an indie rock entity, and finally moved out of downtown into East Austin before closing. Today all that remains of the Antone’s name and legacy is the retail record store near the campus. Heavily skewed to vinyl and the blues, it is a must-visit spot for blues lovers, and prices are reasonable. Even the used compact discs are full of unexpected items, especially in the Texas section.
When I heard that a place in Raleigh called Precious Moments at Lorenzo’s was sponsoring a Down Home Blues Night on Sunday March 2, with a band called the C3 Band, I had to go and check it out. Live music outside of Beale Street is not all that common in Memphis, and is extremely rare in Raleigh, and the venue seemed to be a new one as well, so I wanted to support it. But that particular Sunday proved to be a cold rain that started turning into a freezing rain and sleet event. Even so, the band was there, and a small crowd of brave souls who came out to party. The C3 Band is only a few months old, and consists of Courtney Brown on drums, Chris Pitts on guitar and Colton Parker on bass, and is something of a blues power trio. While they can certainly play the blues, they can effortlessly shift into funk, soul or rock, anchored by Courtney’s aggressive drumming style, and seem to be a group with potential far beyond the basic blues category. Their covers can range far and wide, from Frankie Beverly and Maze, to Bobby Rush, to Clarence Carter. At the end of the night, when I thought they had no more surprises, they went off in left-field with a totally unexpected cover of Van Morrison’s “Tupelo Honey.” I left even more impressed than before. (The C3 gig on Sunday nights has become a regular weekly event at Precious Moments at Lorenzo’s in Raleigh).
Hardworking trombonist Suavo J looks increasingly like a man on a mission to single-handedly rescue Memphis music, and he is everywhere these days, whether it’s playing with Otis Logan’s awesome 4 Soul aggregation, or the Crescent City-tinged Memphis-New Orleans Street Symphony band, or the more rootsy The Bones. The latter group was playing on Friday February 28 at the Center for Southern Folklore down on the Main Street Mall in downtown Memphis. The weather was cold, and there was only a modest crowd, but the band rocked the house for those of us who were there.
The Frontline 
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