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N.O. Jazz died long before Katrina arrived


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Is Zwerin losing it? Is he simply attempting humor? Is he correct? What do you think? --CA

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New Orleans Jazz Passed Away

Long Before Katrina: Mike Zwerin

  • Oct. 3 (Bloomberg) --
It has taken a few weeks for me to drum up the courage to write this but, while nobody is happy about the drowning and the death and destruction in the birthplace of America's only native art form, the fact remains that the prehistoric jazz music New Orleans is noted for had already been under water for nigh on to half a century.

The music was hit by tragedy a long time ago, and the modern- day flood might even be good for it in the long run.

Any sensitive person who has recently visited that ruin of a Preservation Hall to hear the moldy jazz being played there cannot have been able to ignore the sadness of the doddering, arthritic, musical dry rot.

A more realistic preservation program from here on in might include a program to build bright, airy nursing homes with out-of- tune upright pianos, tinny crash cymbals and a groove-handled broomstick of a one-string bass for those who still feel the need to play and/or listen to that caveman stuff.

Please do not consider me flippant. It is my say, it is certainly not objective. The way I look at it, there is little jazz culture to rebuild in New Orleans. Except the tourist jazz culture, that is. By all means, let's rebuild it. Tourism provides gigs for musicians, and jobs for everybody. Rebuild tourism, just don't kid ourselves and get it confused with music.

Lively Masters

This is not by any means to say that all elderly jazz musicians dry out. ``Au contraire, mes amis.'' The one big change in the nature of jazz in recent years is that the masters live longer and that they play better and deeper. Remember Elvin Jones, who died last year at 76. And you can still listen to Roy Haynes, Clark Terry, Buddy De Franco, and Marian McPartland, or for that matter Woody Allen, who retain great creativity and are blossoming in their seventies and even eighties.

No, it is not the players who have dried out in New Orleans, it is the style of music. There was no more juice there. This is not being said in bitterness or hostility. It must, though, be clear that as far as I am concerned, the prospect of not hearing any more artificially preserved New Orleans jazz is not a total downer. ``Let it come down,'' as Shakespeare wrote in Macbeth, equating rain and ruin. There are no more dinosaurs for a reason.

New Music

Plenty of good music came out of New Orleans in the latter half of the 20th century -- the Marsalis brothers and Harry Connick Jr., to cite some good examples -- but, like so many provincial cities, the valuable new music in New Orleans is only appreciated when it comes out of the city. It goes to New York, Boston, Chicago, San Francisco, Amsterdam or Paris.

There are plenty of good people in provincial cities who choose to stay with their families and play their horns for local Saturday night parties while working a day gig at the post office. That is an honorable choice, it reveals solid family values. But it is not putting music first.

New Orleans maintained the fiction of a center. The celebration of the so-called ``birthplace of jazz'' became an industry in itself. There is nothing wrong with memorializing the music of jazz's start, so long as I do not have to listen to it.

Here's a suggestion for renewal: New Orleans is going to be reborn one way or another. Why don't the city fathers try to get a new slant on 21st century jazz by renaming ``Louis Armstrong'' International Airport ``Satchmo International''? (Satchmo is a shortening of Satchelmouth, Louis's nickname.)

Flying With Pops

Maybe they can build a cyber version of Preservation Hall in the terminal building. The looser nickname certainly sounds truer to the spirit of the music. (Another nickname. Pops International Airport ain't too bad either.) People might start dancing new dances. Obviously, some new thinking is needed here.

Even better, maybe the birthplace of jazz should be moved to Paris, which is dry, and full of young musicians who love New Orleans music. New Orleans jazz has for years been more alive in Paris, where the clubs are full of young Scandinavians and Germans dancing to French Dixieland bands playing New Orleans music as though their lives depended on it. In Paris, New Orleans jazz is young, creative, and commercial. Long live Old Orleans.

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interesting but a bit jazz-centric - meaning, how about other historical New Orleans values? The old neighborhood/tribal traditions? The odd-ball African retensions? The ties to voodoo and early rockand roll? Cajun music? this is somewhat of a problem with jazz people, I think, as they sometimes forget there are other musical worlds -

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New Orleans jazz has for years been more alive in Paris, where the clubs are full of young Scandinavians and Germans dancing to French Dixieland bands playing New Orleans music as though their lives depended on it.

...and not just French Dixieland bands. I've seen this ("as though their lives depended on it.") several times at street fests in Germany (Hannover, etc) with visiting U.S. bands. You look at the musicians faces and they appear perfectly stunned that they're getting such a wild, enthusiastic response.

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Is Zwerin losing it? Is he simply attempting humor? Is he correct? What do you think? --CA

I'd saying losing it, even by his own ill-conceived standards for jazz which seem to be 'young, creative and commercial.' Dirty Dozen, Kirk Joseph, Kermit Ruffins... there is quite a list in fact of talented, young, commercial and grooving bands, all of which could recently have been found in Treme round about 3 am...

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What about Rebirth Brass Band?! I saw them in NO in July and they played to a packed house of mostly folks in their twenties and THEY SMOKED! There's Newbirth, Dirty Dozen, etc. I live in Brooklyn NY and know about these guys. Sounds like this guy has his head firmly planted in his butt.

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Frankly, he sounds a bit cranky and a bit out of touch.

These is a bigger music scene there outside of tourist trap dixieland joints; playing traditional music also, as cited above, and other styles and hybirds.

I agree that by citing Harry Connick, of all people, as the bearer on the N.O. music tradition banner, makes me believe that he didn't take his meds that day. Or he's mixing them with his wine.

Edited by marcello
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I don't know this guy...but he must be on crack! I see what he's trying to say, but it just ain't flyin'. Does he expect 2005 NOLA music to be a replication of Jelly Roll Morton jazztimes? Hell, let the Parisians revive it all, they've been doing it for decades. Don't the Nevilles, Kermit Ruffins, Meters, Snooks Eaglin, Nick Payton, Irma Thomas, Dr. John, Irvin Mayfield, Galactic, and on and on and on....should they all be down at Preservation Hall playing tailgate trombone? Come on, New Orleans music is thriving and striving ahead as usual because there's a hell of a lot of musical talent there and always will be. Sure, there's peaks and valleys. Times change and NOLA changes with the times. To say New Orleans' days as being musically relevant are over, well, that's just stupid.

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I don't know this guy...but he must be on crack!  I see what he's trying to say, but it just ain't flyin'.  Does he expect 2005 NOLA music to be a replication of Jelly Roll Morton jazztimes?  Hell, let the Parisians revive it all, they've been doing it for decades.  Don't the Nevilles, Kermit Ruffins, Meters, Snooks Eaglin, Nick Payton, Irma Thomas, Dr. John, Irvin Mayfield, Galactic, and on and on and on....should they all be down at Preservation Hall playing tailgate trombone?  Come on, New Orleans music is thriving and striving ahead as usual because there's a hell of a lot of musical talent there and always will be.  Sure, there's peaks and valleys.  Times change and NOLA changes with the times.  To say New Orleans' days as being musically relevant are over, well, that's just stupid.

Based on my visit to Orleans in Apr and Dec 2002, and listening to numerous Orleans based musicians, I wholeheartedly agree with this statement.

Preservation Hall ..... yes, a boring tourist trap on Bourbon Street. But so what? Bourbon Street in its entirety was a completely worthless souless experience. Huge mistake to judge Orleans on the basis on Bourbon Street (and surrounding area in the French Quarter).

But Preservation Hall wasn't where Orleans music was at. It was guys like Nicholas Payton, John Ellis, Stanton Moore, all the jam-band guys, etc. Plus, most of all, it was all the unknown scraping-by pros who had to play other types of gigs to survive, but still played jazz late night. You had to go to the after-hour places, sometimes restaurants, or the clubs that weren't sit-down jazz clubs, to check the incredible music that town was producing. And of course don't forget Jazz Fest.

I heard jam sessions with really young players that were mind-blowing. For whatever reason, these guys were in Orleans and not NYC, or L.A., or Austin, or the Bay Area.

I'm not saying Vegas is cool, but Vegas always had its fair share of serious jazz men playing in the pit orchestras (James Moody, etc.) And, by analogy, Orleans, being the tourist economy it was, also had this economic sustenance in the background enabling lots of younger guys to survive playing tourist gigs, and then working their own stuff out elsewhere.

Figure in NYC, so much talent, you gotta be one of the absolute best to get a real jazz gig. And all the top talent ends up there eventually, so it must be quite intimidating. Orleans, Vegas, maybe these scenes are an alternative to that kind of pressure -- and those kind of living expenses.

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  • 2 weeks later...

My vote is for "losing it." Guess crankiness has gained the upper hand?

From his better days:

In those days, to mix metaphors, I played my horn like a kid skiing down a slalom, with more courage than sense. Falling on my face never occurred to me. One night I climbed up to Minton's, where bebop was born, in Harlem. A lot of white cats considered Minton's too steep a slope. I never imagined somebody might not like me because I was white. I was absolutely fearless. I took out my trombone and started to play "Walkin'" with Art Blakey, then known as Abdullah Buhaina, a fearful cat I was later told.

When I noticed Miles Davis standing in a dark corner, I tried harder because Miles was with Bird's band. (Miles loved dark corners). He came over as I packed up. I slunk into a cool slouch. I practised cool slouches. We were both wearing shades - no eyes to be seen. "You got eyes to make a rehearsal tomorrow?" he asked me. "I guess so." I acted as though I didn't give one shit for his stupid rehearsal.

"Four." Miles made it clear he couldn't care less if I showed up or not: "Nola Studios." Driving over the Triborough Bridge to the house by the tennis courts at five-AM, I felt like a batboy who had been offered a tryout with the team.

The next day at four I found myself with Miles, Gerry Mulligan, Max Roach, John Lewis, Lee Konitz, Junior Collins, Bill Barber and Al McKibbon playing arrangements by Mulligan and Gil Evans. We would come to be called "The Birth Of The Cool."

Edited by maren
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You know the answer, Jim, but no, "Walkin,'" whatever it's real provenance (it sure wasn't written by Richard Carpenter), was not yet around in the late '40s. Also, Zwerin is to some degree illiterate. If Art Blakey had been "a fearful cat," that would mean that Blkaey himself was afraid. Instead, Zwerin meant that Blakey was "a fearsome cat," i.e. a person who inspires fear in others.

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