Staff Picks: The Best Music Books Of 2011
by NPR Staff
Best Music Of 2011
December 28, 2011
How does the saying go? "Writing about music is like dancing about architecture." Overquoted, tossed off and attributed to the likes of Elvis Costello, Steve Martin and Frank Zappa, there might be some truth to those damning words, whose author remains unknown. After all, what makes music so powerful? It's the music, of course, not necessarily words about it.
But sometimes dancing about architecture is the best way to make sense of something that doesn't inherently make sense. Words can provide context and illuminate the unknown, and in 2011, our favorite books about music were mostly revealing biographies and wide-spanning analyses. Chosen by the NPR Music staff (and one of NPR's music librarians), these books are interpretations of a rich history written by the people who made the music and those who it affected.
Honorable Mentions:
New Atlantis: Musicians Battle for the Survival of New Orleans by John Swenson
Keystone Korner: Portrait of Jazz Club by Kathy Sloane
Norman Granz: The Man Who Used Jazz For Justice by Tad Hershorn
I Listen to the Wind That Obliterates My Traces: Music in Vernacular Photographs 1880-1955 by Steve Roden
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Glen David Andrews drops a dime on crime
This extraordinary story is not an exaggeration. New Orleans criminals routinely assassinate witnesses to crimes. The city's musicians have corageously stood up to these criminals and spoken out repeatedly against them. I wrote about this in my book New Atlantis: Musicians Battle for the Survival of New Orleans. Glen David Andrews is one of the central characters in the book. Here's the story from today's New Orleans Times-Picayune:
New Orleans musician saved from robbers by barking dog
Published: Wednesday, December 21, 2011, 9:31 PM
By Naomi Martin The Times-Picayune
Had it not been for the presence of his cousin's pit bull, local musician Glen David Andrews would have been one of the victims robbed at gunpoint outside a Capital One, one of three such armed robberies Monday morning, outside banks in Mid-City, Broadmoor and Gentilly.
View full sizeTimes-Picayune archiveLocal musician Glen David Andrews called 911 when he realized a robbery was in progress. 'I saw them rob hard-working people of everything but they won't get away with this...STAND UP PEOPLE,' he wrote later on his Facebook page.
It was 8:45 a.m. Monday when Andrews, his cousin and Blue, a large and rambunctious pit bull, piled into an SUV to go to the Capital One at Canal Street and South Carrollton Avenue.
Andrews, a trombone player, said he was planning to deposit $3,500 from the weekend's work to divide among his six band members.
Around 8:50 a.m., they pulled up to the bank's entrance on the corner where about six people, some with deposit slips in their hands, were waiting for the bank to open. Andrews said two people in the group were young men -- maybe 20 or 21 -- wearing black hooded sweatshirts, standing apart from each other.
As Andrews got out of the passenger side to join the group, Blue began to bark, loudly and incessantly.
A man, walking up to join the bank customers, joked to Andrews: "Hey man, you can't shut your dog up?"
Suddenly, one of the hooded men turned over his shoulder, looked Andrews in the eye and nodded toward the SUV.
The man's voice was calm: "You better leave right now with that dog. We 'bout to rob the bank."
Andrews turned immediately and got back in the SUV's passenger seat, telling his cousin, whose name is also Glen Andrews and is a musician as well, what he just heard. His cousin drove away, calmly.
"Man, I've lived in the hood all my life. When he told me that, I looked at his outfit and I look at the other guy's outfit, I looked at his gestures and by the grace of God I was able to internalize all that in a second to get out of there," Andrews said Wednesday.
While driving away from the bank, Andrews and his cousin saw the hooded men pull bandanas over their faces and force the crowd into a huddle to rob them at gunpoint. It took only seconds. Andrews dialed 911 from his cell phone.
View full sizeNew Orleans Police DepartmentA sketch of a suspect wanted by New Orleans police for armed robbery in connection with an incident outside the Capital One branch at 4141 Canal St. on Monday.
A detective later told Andrews that one of the robbery victims was an Iraqi war veteran. Andrews' anger boiled as he recalled recent acts of violence in the city including the killing of a toddler in the B.W. Cooper housing complex. First a 2-year-old girl shot to death, then this? he said.
The bank robberies on Monday occurred in the span of about an hour. New Orleans police believe all three incidents are related, said 3rd District Commander Henry Dean, whose territory includes Mid-City and Gentilly. On Wednesday police released a composite sketch of one of the suspects.
Tuesday night, Andrews vented his frustrations on his Facebook page.
"I saw them rob hard-working people of everything but they won't get away with this...STAND UP PEOPLE," he wrote.
As a well-known musician, Andrews wanted to reach a broad audience with his message that speaking up about crime can help authorities quell it.
But, he acknowledged, he now fears being targeted in retaliation for speaking up about what happened.
"There's a good chance I might get killed now walking down the street," Andrews said. Many of his family members warned him against speaking publicly about the incident.
"The right thing to do,'' he said, "might cost me my life."
New Orleans musician saved from robbers by barking dog
Published: Wednesday, December 21, 2011, 9:31 PM
By Naomi Martin The Times-Picayune
Had it not been for the presence of his cousin's pit bull, local musician Glen David Andrews would have been one of the victims robbed at gunpoint outside a Capital One, one of three such armed robberies Monday morning, outside banks in Mid-City, Broadmoor and Gentilly.
View full sizeTimes-Picayune archiveLocal musician Glen David Andrews called 911 when he realized a robbery was in progress. 'I saw them rob hard-working people of everything but they won't get away with this...STAND UP PEOPLE,' he wrote later on his Facebook page.
It was 8:45 a.m. Monday when Andrews, his cousin and Blue, a large and rambunctious pit bull, piled into an SUV to go to the Capital One at Canal Street and South Carrollton Avenue.
Andrews, a trombone player, said he was planning to deposit $3,500 from the weekend's work to divide among his six band members.
Around 8:50 a.m., they pulled up to the bank's entrance on the corner where about six people, some with deposit slips in their hands, were waiting for the bank to open. Andrews said two people in the group were young men -- maybe 20 or 21 -- wearing black hooded sweatshirts, standing apart from each other.
As Andrews got out of the passenger side to join the group, Blue began to bark, loudly and incessantly.
A man, walking up to join the bank customers, joked to Andrews: "Hey man, you can't shut your dog up?"
Suddenly, one of the hooded men turned over his shoulder, looked Andrews in the eye and nodded toward the SUV.
The man's voice was calm: "You better leave right now with that dog. We 'bout to rob the bank."
Andrews turned immediately and got back in the SUV's passenger seat, telling his cousin, whose name is also Glen Andrews and is a musician as well, what he just heard. His cousin drove away, calmly.
"Man, I've lived in the hood all my life. When he told me that, I looked at his outfit and I look at the other guy's outfit, I looked at his gestures and by the grace of God I was able to internalize all that in a second to get out of there," Andrews said Wednesday.
While driving away from the bank, Andrews and his cousin saw the hooded men pull bandanas over their faces and force the crowd into a huddle to rob them at gunpoint. It took only seconds. Andrews dialed 911 from his cell phone.
View full sizeNew Orleans Police DepartmentA sketch of a suspect wanted by New Orleans police for armed robbery in connection with an incident outside the Capital One branch at 4141 Canal St. on Monday.
A detective later told Andrews that one of the robbery victims was an Iraqi war veteran. Andrews' anger boiled as he recalled recent acts of violence in the city including the killing of a toddler in the B.W. Cooper housing complex. First a 2-year-old girl shot to death, then this? he said.
The bank robberies on Monday occurred in the span of about an hour. New Orleans police believe all three incidents are related, said 3rd District Commander Henry Dean, whose territory includes Mid-City and Gentilly. On Wednesday police released a composite sketch of one of the suspects.
Tuesday night, Andrews vented his frustrations on his Facebook page.
"I saw them rob hard-working people of everything but they won't get away with this...STAND UP PEOPLE," he wrote.
As a well-known musician, Andrews wanted to reach a broad audience with his message that speaking up about crime can help authorities quell it.
But, he acknowledged, he now fears being targeted in retaliation for speaking up about what happened.
"There's a good chance I might get killed now walking down the street," Andrews said. Many of his family members warned him against speaking publicly about the incident.
"The right thing to do,'' he said, "might cost me my life."
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Nicholas Peyton on the death of Jazz
This isn't the first time anyone has ever come up with this idea but Peyton does a good job of expressing it. I would take one issue with his many premises, however. Louis Armstrong did not bow and scrape so Miles Davis could turn his back. That's buying into the very mythology Peyton is attacking. Louis Armstrong created American popular music as we know it in all its aspects. If he loved his audience that was show biz just as much as what Lady Gaga does today. Armstrong was in fact a powerful force in the Civil Rights movement who used that power brilliantly and judiciously. Davis, by comparison, sold out, not that I think anything less of him because the music speaks for itself and he was truly great in his own right. I say BY COMPARISON. Armstrong did far more for African Americans than Miles Davis did, not that it's a contest or anything, it just pisses me off to see Armstrong still used as a straw man to illustrate how cool Miles was. You didn't hear that shit from Miles, although he did say a bunch of things to confound people who thought they knew who he was. By the end of his life, when he finally started explaining himself, Miles claimed he wasn't turning his back on his audience anyway. He said he was facing his band members. I will proudly continue to listen to Armstrong, Miles Davis and Nicholas Peyton and I don't care what they call it, it's all cool to me.
On Why Jazz Isn’t Cool Anymore . . . .
Posted on November 27, 2011 by Nicholas Peyton
Jazz died in 1959.
There maybe cool individuals who say they play Jazz, but ain’t shit cool about Jazz as a whole.
Jazz died when cool stopped being hip.
Jazz was a limited idea to begin with.
Jazz is a label that was forced upon the musicians.
The musicians should’ve never accepted that idea.
Jazz ain’t shit.
Jazz is incestuous.
Jazz separated itself from American popular music.
Big mistake.
The music never recovered.
Ornette tried to save Jazz from itself by taking the music back to its New Orleanian roots, but his efforts were too esoteric.
Jazz died in 1959, that’s why Ornette tried to “Free Jazz” in 1960.
Jazz is only cool if you don’t actually play it for a living.
Jazz musicians have accepted the idea that it’s OK to be poor.
John Coltrane is a bad cat, but Jazz stopped being cool in 1959.
The very fact that so many people are holding on to this idea of what Jazz is supposed to be is exactly what makes it not cool.
People are holding on to an idea that died long ago.
Jazz, like the Buddha, is dead.
Let it go, people, let it go.
Paul Whiteman was the King of Jazz and someday all kings must fall.
Jazz ain’t cool, it’s cold, like necrophilia.
Stop fucking the dead and embrace the living.
Jazz worries way too much about itself for it to be cool.
Jazz died in 1959.
The number one Jazz record is Miles Davis’ Kind Of Blue.
Dave Brubeck’s Time Out was released in 1959.
1959 was the coolest year in Jazz.
Jazz is haunted by its own hungry ghosts.
Let it die.
You can be martyrs for an idea that died over a half a century if y’all want.
Jazz has proven itself to be limited, and therefore, not cool.
Lot’s wife turned to a pillar of salt from looking back.
Jazz is dead.
Miles ahead.
Some may say that I’m no longer the same dude who recorded the album with Doc Cheatham.
Correct: I’m not the same dude I was 14 years ago.
Isn’t that the point?
Our whole purpose on this planet is to evolve.
The Golden Age of Jazz is gone.
Let it go.
Too many necrophiliacs in Jazz.
You’re making my case for me.
Some people may say we are defined by our limitations.
I don’t believe in limitations, but yes, if you believe you are limited that will define you.
Definitions are retrospective.
And if you find yourself getting mad, it’s probably because you know Jazz is dead.
Why get upset if what I’m saying doesn’t ring true?
I can’t speak for anyone else, but I don’t play Jazz.
I play Postmodern New Orleans music.
Louis Armstrong and Danny Barker play Traditional New Orleans Music.
Ellis Marsalis and James Black play Modern New Orleans music.
Kidd Jordan and Clyde Kerr play Avant-garde New Orleans music.
Donald Harrison plays Neoclassical New Orleans music.
I play Postmodern New Orleans music.
I am a part of a lineage.
I am a part of a blood line.
My ancestors didn’t play Jazz, they played Traditional, Modern and Avant-garde New Orleans Music.
I don’t play Jazz.
I don’t let others define who I am.
I am a Postmodern New Orleans musician.
I create music for the heart and the head, for the beauty and the booty.
The man who lets others define him is a dead man.
With all due respect to the masters, they were victims of a colonialist mentality.
Blacks have been conditioned for centuries to be grateful for whatever crumbs thrown to them.
As a postmodern musician, it’s my duty to do better than my predecessors.
To question, reexamine and redefine what it is that we do.
They accepted it because they had to.
Because my ancestors opened the door for me, I don’t have to accept it.
Louis bowed and scraped so Miles could turn his back.
It’s called evolution.
It’s the colonialist mentality that glorifies being treated like a slave.
There is nothing romantic about poor, scuffling Jazz musicians.
Fuck that idea.
It’s not cool.
Jazz is a lie.
America is a lie.
Playing Jazz is like running on a treadmill: you may break a sweat, but ultimately you ain’t going nowhere.
Some people may say we are limited.
I say, we are as limited as we think.
I am not limited.
Jazz is a marketing ploy that serves an elite few.
The elite make all the money while they tell the true artists it’s cool to be broke.
Occupy Jazz!
I am not speaking of so-called Jazz’s improvisational aspects.
Improvisation by its very nature can never be passé, but mindsets are invariably deadly.
Not knowing is the most you can ever know.
It’s only when you don’t know that “everything” is possible.
Jazz has nothing to do with music or being cool.
It’s a marketing idea.
A glaring example of what’s wrong with Jazz is how people fight over it.
People are too afraid to let go of a name that is killing the spirit of the music.
Life is bigger than music, unless you love and/or play Jazz.
The art, or lack thereof, is just a reflection.
Miles Davis personified cool and he hated Jazz.
What is Jazz anyway?
Life isn’t linear, it’s concentric.
When you’re truly creating you don’t have time to think about what to call it.
Who thinks of what they’ll name the baby while they’re fucking?
Playing Jazz is like using the rear-view mirror to drive your car on the freeway.
If you think Jazz is a style of music, you’ll never begin to understand.
It’s ultimately on the musicians.
People are fickle and follow the pack.
Not enough artists willing to soldier for their shit.
People follow trends and brands.
So do musicians, sadly.
Jazz is a brand.
Jazz ain’t music, it’s marketing, and bad marketing at that.
It has never been, nor will it ever be, music.
Here lies Jazz (1916 – 1959).
Too many musicians and not enough artists.
I believe music to be more of a medium than a brand.
Silence is music, too.
You can’t practice art.
In order for it to be true, one must live it.
Existence is not contingent upon thought.
It’s where you choose to put silence that makes sound music.
Sound and silence equals music.
Sometimes when I’m soloing, I don’t play shit.
I just move blocks of silence around.
The notes are an afterthought.
Silence is what makes music sexy.
Silence is cool.
- Nicholas Payton
On Why Jazz Isn’t Cool Anymore . . . .
Posted on November 27, 2011 by Nicholas Peyton
Jazz died in 1959.
There maybe cool individuals who say they play Jazz, but ain’t shit cool about Jazz as a whole.
Jazz died when cool stopped being hip.
Jazz was a limited idea to begin with.
Jazz is a label that was forced upon the musicians.
The musicians should’ve never accepted that idea.
Jazz ain’t shit.
Jazz is incestuous.
Jazz separated itself from American popular music.
Big mistake.
The music never recovered.
Ornette tried to save Jazz from itself by taking the music back to its New Orleanian roots, but his efforts were too esoteric.
Jazz died in 1959, that’s why Ornette tried to “Free Jazz” in 1960.
Jazz is only cool if you don’t actually play it for a living.
Jazz musicians have accepted the idea that it’s OK to be poor.
John Coltrane is a bad cat, but Jazz stopped being cool in 1959.
The very fact that so many people are holding on to this idea of what Jazz is supposed to be is exactly what makes it not cool.
People are holding on to an idea that died long ago.
Jazz, like the Buddha, is dead.
Let it go, people, let it go.
Paul Whiteman was the King of Jazz and someday all kings must fall.
Jazz ain’t cool, it’s cold, like necrophilia.
Stop fucking the dead and embrace the living.
Jazz worries way too much about itself for it to be cool.
Jazz died in 1959.
The number one Jazz record is Miles Davis’ Kind Of Blue.
Dave Brubeck’s Time Out was released in 1959.
1959 was the coolest year in Jazz.
Jazz is haunted by its own hungry ghosts.
Let it die.
You can be martyrs for an idea that died over a half a century if y’all want.
Jazz has proven itself to be limited, and therefore, not cool.
Lot’s wife turned to a pillar of salt from looking back.
Jazz is dead.
Miles ahead.
Some may say that I’m no longer the same dude who recorded the album with Doc Cheatham.
Correct: I’m not the same dude I was 14 years ago.
Isn’t that the point?
Our whole purpose on this planet is to evolve.
The Golden Age of Jazz is gone.
Let it go.
Too many necrophiliacs in Jazz.
You’re making my case for me.
Some people may say we are defined by our limitations.
I don’t believe in limitations, but yes, if you believe you are limited that will define you.
Definitions are retrospective.
And if you find yourself getting mad, it’s probably because you know Jazz is dead.
Why get upset if what I’m saying doesn’t ring true?
I can’t speak for anyone else, but I don’t play Jazz.
I play Postmodern New Orleans music.
Louis Armstrong and Danny Barker play Traditional New Orleans Music.
Ellis Marsalis and James Black play Modern New Orleans music.
Kidd Jordan and Clyde Kerr play Avant-garde New Orleans music.
Donald Harrison plays Neoclassical New Orleans music.
I play Postmodern New Orleans music.
I am a part of a lineage.
I am a part of a blood line.
My ancestors didn’t play Jazz, they played Traditional, Modern and Avant-garde New Orleans Music.
I don’t play Jazz.
I don’t let others define who I am.
I am a Postmodern New Orleans musician.
I create music for the heart and the head, for the beauty and the booty.
The man who lets others define him is a dead man.
With all due respect to the masters, they were victims of a colonialist mentality.
Blacks have been conditioned for centuries to be grateful for whatever crumbs thrown to them.
As a postmodern musician, it’s my duty to do better than my predecessors.
To question, reexamine and redefine what it is that we do.
They accepted it because they had to.
Because my ancestors opened the door for me, I don’t have to accept it.
Louis bowed and scraped so Miles could turn his back.
It’s called evolution.
It’s the colonialist mentality that glorifies being treated like a slave.
There is nothing romantic about poor, scuffling Jazz musicians.
Fuck that idea.
It’s not cool.
Jazz is a lie.
America is a lie.
Playing Jazz is like running on a treadmill: you may break a sweat, but ultimately you ain’t going nowhere.
Some people may say we are limited.
I say, we are as limited as we think.
I am not limited.
Jazz is a marketing ploy that serves an elite few.
The elite make all the money while they tell the true artists it’s cool to be broke.
Occupy Jazz!
I am not speaking of so-called Jazz’s improvisational aspects.
Improvisation by its very nature can never be passé, but mindsets are invariably deadly.
Not knowing is the most you can ever know.
It’s only when you don’t know that “everything” is possible.
Jazz has nothing to do with music or being cool.
It’s a marketing idea.
A glaring example of what’s wrong with Jazz is how people fight over it.
People are too afraid to let go of a name that is killing the spirit of the music.
Life is bigger than music, unless you love and/or play Jazz.
The art, or lack thereof, is just a reflection.
Miles Davis personified cool and he hated Jazz.
What is Jazz anyway?
Life isn’t linear, it’s concentric.
When you’re truly creating you don’t have time to think about what to call it.
Who thinks of what they’ll name the baby while they’re fucking?
Playing Jazz is like using the rear-view mirror to drive your car on the freeway.
If you think Jazz is a style of music, you’ll never begin to understand.
It’s ultimately on the musicians.
People are fickle and follow the pack.
Not enough artists willing to soldier for their shit.
People follow trends and brands.
So do musicians, sadly.
Jazz is a brand.
Jazz ain’t music, it’s marketing, and bad marketing at that.
It has never been, nor will it ever be, music.
Here lies Jazz (1916 – 1959).
Too many musicians and not enough artists.
I believe music to be more of a medium than a brand.
Silence is music, too.
You can’t practice art.
In order for it to be true, one must live it.
Existence is not contingent upon thought.
It’s where you choose to put silence that makes sound music.
Sound and silence equals music.
Sometimes when I’m soloing, I don’t play shit.
I just move blocks of silence around.
The notes are an afterthought.
Silence is what makes music sexy.
Silence is cool.
- Nicholas Payton
Friday, November 25, 2011
Coco Robicheaux passes away
Coco Robicheaux the "mayor of Frenchmen Street" died Friday night after suffering a heart attack at the Apple Barrel bar. He epitomized the spirit of Frenchmen Street.
Here's Keith Spera's report in the Times-Picayune:
Hoodoo bluesman Coco Robicheaux apparently suffered a medical emergency while at the Apple Barrel bar on Frenchmen Street early Friday evening. He was taken away by ambulance.
Robicheaux was not performing at the time; he frequents the Apple Barrel on his off-nights.
Known for an especially gravelly voice, a swamp-blues guitar style and a fascination with subjects of a spiritual and/or mystical nature, the 64-year-old Robicheaux, an Ascension Parish native, has released several albums over the past two decades. He is a mainstay of the Frenchmen Street entertainment district, a familiar figure both on- and off-stage. He is also a regular on the schedule of the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival.
Robicheaux made a memorable appearance during the opening scene of the second episode of the first-season of the HBO series “Treme.” In a fictionalized incident, he sacrifices a rooster in the studio of community radio station WWOZ-FM.
He is also a visual artist, sculptor and painter. He created the bronze bust of Professor Longhair that stands near the entrance of Tipitina's.
According to a bartender at the Apple Barrel, Robicheaux was rushed to Tulane Medical Center after collapsing Friday evening. His condition is unknown.
Here's Keith Spera's report in the Times-Picayune:
Hoodoo bluesman Coco Robicheaux apparently suffered a medical emergency while at the Apple Barrel bar on Frenchmen Street early Friday evening. He was taken away by ambulance.
Robicheaux was not performing at the time; he frequents the Apple Barrel on his off-nights.
Known for an especially gravelly voice, a swamp-blues guitar style and a fascination with subjects of a spiritual and/or mystical nature, the 64-year-old Robicheaux, an Ascension Parish native, has released several albums over the past two decades. He is a mainstay of the Frenchmen Street entertainment district, a familiar figure both on- and off-stage. He is also a regular on the schedule of the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival.
Robicheaux made a memorable appearance during the opening scene of the second episode of the first-season of the HBO series “Treme.” In a fictionalized incident, he sacrifices a rooster in the studio of community radio station WWOZ-FM.
He is also a visual artist, sculptor and painter. He created the bronze bust of Professor Longhair that stands near the entrance of Tipitina's.
According to a bartender at the Apple Barrel, Robicheaux was rushed to Tulane Medical Center after collapsing Friday evening. His condition is unknown.
New Atlantis reviewed in Jazz Times
The outstanding jazz writer Bill Milkowski wrote a wonderful review of my book New Atlantis: Musicians Battle for the Survival of New Orleans and Keith Spera's book in the new Jazz Times. Just for the record, though much of the book is based on material originally researched for OffBeat pieces it is a complete rewrite of that information with a lot of new material.
Here's a link, followed by the text of the review.
http://jazztimes.com/articles/28987-groove-interrupted-loss-renewal-and-the-music-of-new-orleans-keith-spera
11/23/11
Keith Spera
Groove Interrupted: Loss, Renewal And The Music Of New Orleans
John Swenson
New Atlantis: Musicians Battle For The Survival Of New Orleans
Bill Milkowski reviews two new books about music in post-Katrina New Orleans
By Bill Milkowski
Those who have spent any significant amount of time in New Orleans can attest to the fact that the real musical treasures are found off the beaten path. Keith Spera and John Swenson are both savvy writers who have infiltrated the inner circle of the Crescent City’s musical culture. Each has assembled a collection of intriguing essays that reveal secrets that exist well beyond Bourbon Street.
New Orleans native Spera, a longstanding music writer for The Times-Picayune who was also part of the newspaper’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Hurricane Katrina coverage team, focuses on tales of musicians confronting the challenges of trying to continue to make music in a post-Katrina environment. He covers those displaced New Orleanians forced to seek refuge in Houston, Austin, Nashville and other points around the country in the wake of Hurricane Katrina (known around New Orleans as “the Federal flood”). His profile of the cantankerous, Slidell-based blues guitarist-singer-fiddler Gatemouth Brown, who succumbed to lung cancer shortly after Katrina hit, is particularly moving, as is his eloquent recounting of Aaron Neville’s escape from his beloved hometown in the face of Katrina, his subsequent mourning over the loss of his wife to lung cancer in 2006 and triumphant return to New Orleans in 2008.
A hilarious chapter titled “Fats Domino’s Excellent Adventure” reveals the eccentricities of a bona fide hometown hero on his first trip to New York in decades to perform at a post-Katrina benefit concert. A chapter on trumpeter Terence Blanchard recounts the realization of his magnum opus, A Tale of God’s Will (A Requiem for Katrina). Other post-Katrina profiles on two New Orleans legends (clarinetist Pete Fountain and legendary songwriter-pianist Allen Toussaint), New Orleans Jazz & Heritage producer/director Quint Davis and the reclusive former Box Tops frontman Alex Chilton (who rode out Katrina in his Treme home) are all rendered with uncanny empathy and an eye for N’awlins detail that only a local could summon up.
While Swenson is a native New Yorker, he has for the past 20 years split his time between residences in Brooklyn and the Bywater. A former editor at Rolling Stone and Crawdaddy and currently a contributing editor to New Orleans’ Offbeat magazine, he has chronicled the lives and music of Crescent City legends as well as up-and-coming young talents. New Atlantis compiles some of his best post-Katrina essays that appeared in Offbeat.
Like Spera, he has a deep reverence for the New Orleans music tradition as well as an insider’s understanding of the local music scene. His pieces cover an astonishingly eclectic range, from insightful treatises on the brass band tradition, the legacy of Louis Armstrong and the mysterious culture of the Mardi Gras Indians to illuminating profiles on Voice of the Wetlands activist and blues guitarist Tab Benoit, New Orleans legend Mac (Dr. John) Rebennack, 400-pound bluesman Big Al Carson (a mainstay at the Funky Pirate on Bourbon Street), trad jazz clarinetist Dr. Michael White, ragtime piano specialist and James Booker interpreter Tom McDermott, and renegade-genius record producer Mark Bingham.
Swenson also writes with passion and clarity about the passing of legendary guitarist Snooks Eaglin, about his own return to the Crescent City after evacuating prior to Katrina, and about the return of the spirit of laissez le bon ton roulet with the first post-Katrina Mardi Gras in 2006. He ends the collection with a thoughtful piece that neatly segues from how the Saints’ Super Bowl victory in 2010 uplifted New Orleanians to how the enormity of the BP oil spill in the wake of the Deepwater Horizon tragedy just six weeks later provided yet another challenge to the long-suffering but resilient residents of that troubled metropolis. He gives the final word on this troubling matter to his New Orleans mentor, Dr. John: “This is my home. This is my roots. This is sacred land, and when y’all start playing around with some sacred land, somethin’ bad gonna happen.”
Here's a link, followed by the text of the review.
http://jazztimes.com/articles/28987-groove-interrupted-loss-renewal-and-the-music-of-new-orleans-keith-spera
11/23/11
Keith Spera
Groove Interrupted: Loss, Renewal And The Music Of New Orleans
John Swenson
New Atlantis: Musicians Battle For The Survival Of New Orleans
Bill Milkowski reviews two new books about music in post-Katrina New Orleans
By Bill Milkowski
Those who have spent any significant amount of time in New Orleans can attest to the fact that the real musical treasures are found off the beaten path. Keith Spera and John Swenson are both savvy writers who have infiltrated the inner circle of the Crescent City’s musical culture. Each has assembled a collection of intriguing essays that reveal secrets that exist well beyond Bourbon Street.
New Orleans native Spera, a longstanding music writer for The Times-Picayune who was also part of the newspaper’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Hurricane Katrina coverage team, focuses on tales of musicians confronting the challenges of trying to continue to make music in a post-Katrina environment. He covers those displaced New Orleanians forced to seek refuge in Houston, Austin, Nashville and other points around the country in the wake of Hurricane Katrina (known around New Orleans as “the Federal flood”). His profile of the cantankerous, Slidell-based blues guitarist-singer-fiddler Gatemouth Brown, who succumbed to lung cancer shortly after Katrina hit, is particularly moving, as is his eloquent recounting of Aaron Neville’s escape from his beloved hometown in the face of Katrina, his subsequent mourning over the loss of his wife to lung cancer in 2006 and triumphant return to New Orleans in 2008.
A hilarious chapter titled “Fats Domino’s Excellent Adventure” reveals the eccentricities of a bona fide hometown hero on his first trip to New York in decades to perform at a post-Katrina benefit concert. A chapter on trumpeter Terence Blanchard recounts the realization of his magnum opus, A Tale of God’s Will (A Requiem for Katrina). Other post-Katrina profiles on two New Orleans legends (clarinetist Pete Fountain and legendary songwriter-pianist Allen Toussaint), New Orleans Jazz & Heritage producer/director Quint Davis and the reclusive former Box Tops frontman Alex Chilton (who rode out Katrina in his Treme home) are all rendered with uncanny empathy and an eye for N’awlins detail that only a local could summon up.
While Swenson is a native New Yorker, he has for the past 20 years split his time between residences in Brooklyn and the Bywater. A former editor at Rolling Stone and Crawdaddy and currently a contributing editor to New Orleans’ Offbeat magazine, he has chronicled the lives and music of Crescent City legends as well as up-and-coming young talents. New Atlantis compiles some of his best post-Katrina essays that appeared in Offbeat.
Like Spera, he has a deep reverence for the New Orleans music tradition as well as an insider’s understanding of the local music scene. His pieces cover an astonishingly eclectic range, from insightful treatises on the brass band tradition, the legacy of Louis Armstrong and the mysterious culture of the Mardi Gras Indians to illuminating profiles on Voice of the Wetlands activist and blues guitarist Tab Benoit, New Orleans legend Mac (Dr. John) Rebennack, 400-pound bluesman Big Al Carson (a mainstay at the Funky Pirate on Bourbon Street), trad jazz clarinetist Dr. Michael White, ragtime piano specialist and James Booker interpreter Tom McDermott, and renegade-genius record producer Mark Bingham.
Swenson also writes with passion and clarity about the passing of legendary guitarist Snooks Eaglin, about his own return to the Crescent City after evacuating prior to Katrina, and about the return of the spirit of laissez le bon ton roulet with the first post-Katrina Mardi Gras in 2006. He ends the collection with a thoughtful piece that neatly segues from how the Saints’ Super Bowl victory in 2010 uplifted New Orleanians to how the enormity of the BP oil spill in the wake of the Deepwater Horizon tragedy just six weeks later provided yet another challenge to the long-suffering but resilient residents of that troubled metropolis. He gives the final word on this troubling matter to his New Orleans mentor, Dr. John: “This is my home. This is my roots. This is sacred land, and when y’all start playing around with some sacred land, somethin’ bad gonna happen.”
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Notes from New Atlantis Book tour 2011
The 2011 book tour in support of New Atlantis: Musicians Battle for the Survival of New Orleans, is over for now. Something may come up over the next month but the major events wrapped up with our participation in the National Press Club's Book Fair in Washington D.C. last week. It was a really good way to finish up because the Book Fair really offers hope to those of us us who are still interested in communicating via real paragraphs made up of real sentences containing real words that strive to actually tell a story rather than provide simple social imperatives or instant narcissistic gratification. Of course Twitter, Facebook and Text world (TFT) are incredibly powerful political tools in the right hands, but they can be just as powerful in the wrong hands, especially if content is reduced to simple dog-like commands. I don't wish for their demise, just for a balancing of technological advance with content, and the concentration necessary to keep a reader's attention in place long enough to follow a narrative.
It was great to see some 90 authors signing books for hundreds of readers at the Book Fair. Even better was the chance to interact personally with so many of those readers and potential readers, telling them the story of all the heroic musicians from New Orleans who returned to their stricken city and, against all odds, not only restored their culture but helped with the rebuilding process and created a viable economic engine to drive the city's recovery. It's an ongoing story which I hope to be able to continue to tell. Strangely, some of the biggest resistance I've met along the way is from the editorial hierarchy in New Orleans itself, which seems to be less interested in drawing attention to the small victories of local musicians than basking in the star power of visiting celebrity dignitaries.
I learned a lot in the course of promoting the book. Though it came out in June, we had pre-release copies available at Jazz Fest and the response from that audience was almost astonishing. The New Orleans story resonates profoundly outside of the city. The kind of identification fans of this music have with the hardy souls who continue to play it taps an emotional well that is almost nonexistent elsewhere in millennial America. I was more than a little surprised when people bought the book the first weekend then returned to the signing during the second weekend with tears in their eyes.
The actual release was less stirring but Jesse Paige at the Blue Nile was extremely generous in allowing us to use the upstairs room for our release party and we had a terrific time. Wings from McHardy's, red beans from Captain Sal's and 100 pounds of crawfish prepared by chef Eddie with the assistance of Mr. Massachusetts Mac and Mr. Bronx Brendan provided ample eats for our own party and for a weekend of musicians and staff at the BN. I chose the weekend of the final Radiators shows for the event which was probably a miscalculation because of the disconnect between Frenchmen Street and Uptown. Rads fans, it turned out, had their own crawfish boil, although a few of them did show up at both events (many thanks). The New York book release party was more successful. Many, many friends and colleagues showed up for a Brooklyn barbecue that preceded a terrific free performance from Dr. John at Prospect Park. The great Ned Sublette was on hand to help us celebrate.
Even better was the help we got in Brooklyn from Gerry and Joanna from the Observatory at Proteus Gowanus. They allowed me to present a series of readings/lectures/performances showcasing themes from the book and featuring a great night with Blake Leyh, musical supervisor for the HBO series Treme. This program, New Atlantis 2020, allowed us to highlight some of the most important messages contained in the book and project the narrative forward. As I say this is an ongoing story and we will revive the New Atlantis 2020 series in our 2012 campaign.
By far the most gratifying episodes of the book tour were our collaborations with the Voice of the Wetlands All-Stars. Tab Benoit, Rueben Williams and Cyril Neville in particular really come through in the book with an important message about how the ongoing eco-catastophe occuring along the Gulf Coast is threatening not just southern Louisiana and New Orleans but the whole country. Readings before VOW performances in Fairfield, Connecticut and New York City provided a great platform for the book's message. But the greatest moments were at the Voice of the Wetlands Festival in Houma. You don't have to look far from the site of the festival to see the Gulf waters encroaching on the land. This kind of disaster politicizes everyone involved and it was incredibly heartening to see people of all political affiliations, and the many families at the festival all uniting against the despoilers who would ruin their homes for short term profit.
Against the backdrop of Occupy Wall Street and the growing paradigm shift away from blaming American workers for the country's economic problems and focusing attention on the wealth disparity between the greedy profiteers who would sacrifice Houma, New Orleans and whatever else stands in their way and the 99 per cent it feels like New Atlantis is part of a broad movement to take America back from the oligarchs. We plan to continue to focus on these ideas in 2012.
It was great to see some 90 authors signing books for hundreds of readers at the Book Fair. Even better was the chance to interact personally with so many of those readers and potential readers, telling them the story of all the heroic musicians from New Orleans who returned to their stricken city and, against all odds, not only restored their culture but helped with the rebuilding process and created a viable economic engine to drive the city's recovery. It's an ongoing story which I hope to be able to continue to tell. Strangely, some of the biggest resistance I've met along the way is from the editorial hierarchy in New Orleans itself, which seems to be less interested in drawing attention to the small victories of local musicians than basking in the star power of visiting celebrity dignitaries.
I learned a lot in the course of promoting the book. Though it came out in June, we had pre-release copies available at Jazz Fest and the response from that audience was almost astonishing. The New Orleans story resonates profoundly outside of the city. The kind of identification fans of this music have with the hardy souls who continue to play it taps an emotional well that is almost nonexistent elsewhere in millennial America. I was more than a little surprised when people bought the book the first weekend then returned to the signing during the second weekend with tears in their eyes.
The actual release was less stirring but Jesse Paige at the Blue Nile was extremely generous in allowing us to use the upstairs room for our release party and we had a terrific time. Wings from McHardy's, red beans from Captain Sal's and 100 pounds of crawfish prepared by chef Eddie with the assistance of Mr. Massachusetts Mac and Mr. Bronx Brendan provided ample eats for our own party and for a weekend of musicians and staff at the BN. I chose the weekend of the final Radiators shows for the event which was probably a miscalculation because of the disconnect between Frenchmen Street and Uptown. Rads fans, it turned out, had their own crawfish boil, although a few of them did show up at both events (many thanks). The New York book release party was more successful. Many, many friends and colleagues showed up for a Brooklyn barbecue that preceded a terrific free performance from Dr. John at Prospect Park. The great Ned Sublette was on hand to help us celebrate.
Even better was the help we got in Brooklyn from Gerry and Joanna from the Observatory at Proteus Gowanus. They allowed me to present a series of readings/lectures/performances showcasing themes from the book and featuring a great night with Blake Leyh, musical supervisor for the HBO series Treme. This program, New Atlantis 2020, allowed us to highlight some of the most important messages contained in the book and project the narrative forward. As I say this is an ongoing story and we will revive the New Atlantis 2020 series in our 2012 campaign.
By far the most gratifying episodes of the book tour were our collaborations with the Voice of the Wetlands All-Stars. Tab Benoit, Rueben Williams and Cyril Neville in particular really come through in the book with an important message about how the ongoing eco-catastophe occuring along the Gulf Coast is threatening not just southern Louisiana and New Orleans but the whole country. Readings before VOW performances in Fairfield, Connecticut and New York City provided a great platform for the book's message. But the greatest moments were at the Voice of the Wetlands Festival in Houma. You don't have to look far from the site of the festival to see the Gulf waters encroaching on the land. This kind of disaster politicizes everyone involved and it was incredibly heartening to see people of all political affiliations, and the many families at the festival all uniting against the despoilers who would ruin their homes for short term profit.
Against the backdrop of Occupy Wall Street and the growing paradigm shift away from blaming American workers for the country's economic problems and focusing attention on the wealth disparity between the greedy profiteers who would sacrifice Houma, New Orleans and whatever else stands in their way and the 99 per cent it feels like New Atlantis is part of a broad movement to take America back from the oligarchs. We plan to continue to focus on these ideas in 2012.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
New Atlantis signing Tuesday at National Press Club Book Fair
I will be wrapping up my 2011 book tour in support of New Atlantis: Musicians Battle for the Survival of New Orleans this Tuesday with an appearance at the National Press Club Book Fair & Authors’ Night in Washington D.C. This time promoting the book has been one of the most gratifying episodes in my career. I will post my impressions of the experience later this week and offer a preview of what's in store for 2012.
Lauded as a philanthropic event, the Book Fair is a fundraiser for the National Press Club’s Journalism Institute, a 501 (c)(3) charitable organization dedicated to providing research and training to journalists in a rapidly changing industry, and scholarships to minority journalism students.
On the literary front, the Book Fair is a unique forum for authors to gain national exposure and personal contact with book buyers, fans, pundits, and journalists. One of the capital’s premier literary events, the annual fair draws more than 90 of the nation’s top authors to the historic Press Club, and attracts substantial media coverage. Authors who have participated in the past include: Rep. Barbara Lee, Eugene Robinson, Annie Proulx, Justice Antonin Scalia, Larry King, Jim Lehrer, Gwen Ifill, David Pogue, Richard Wolffe, Kinky Friedman, Pamela Newkirk, C. David Heymann, Jeff Sharlet, Tom Ridge, Leslie Sanchez, James Reston, Jr., and Deborah Tannen.
We are excited to announce that our Book Fair committee will be working once again with The SEED Foundation, which helps prepare underserved students for college success at high-performing public boarding schools in the District and Maryland. The Book Fair is helping to develop the school library at the Foundation’s new Maryland Campus.
The event is scheduled to begin promptly at 5:30 p.m. and will end at 8:30 p.m. There will be a private reception for National Press Club board members and authors and their guests from 4:15 - 5:15 p.m.
Lauded as a philanthropic event, the Book Fair is a fundraiser for the National Press Club’s Journalism Institute, a 501 (c)(3) charitable organization dedicated to providing research and training to journalists in a rapidly changing industry, and scholarships to minority journalism students.
On the literary front, the Book Fair is a unique forum for authors to gain national exposure and personal contact with book buyers, fans, pundits, and journalists. One of the capital’s premier literary events, the annual fair draws more than 90 of the nation’s top authors to the historic Press Club, and attracts substantial media coverage. Authors who have participated in the past include: Rep. Barbara Lee, Eugene Robinson, Annie Proulx, Justice Antonin Scalia, Larry King, Jim Lehrer, Gwen Ifill, David Pogue, Richard Wolffe, Kinky Friedman, Pamela Newkirk, C. David Heymann, Jeff Sharlet, Tom Ridge, Leslie Sanchez, James Reston, Jr., and Deborah Tannen.
We are excited to announce that our Book Fair committee will be working once again with The SEED Foundation, which helps prepare underserved students for college success at high-performing public boarding schools in the District and Maryland. The Book Fair is helping to develop the school library at the Foundation’s new Maryland Campus.
The event is scheduled to begin promptly at 5:30 p.m. and will end at 8:30 p.m. There will be a private reception for National Press Club board members and authors and their guests from 4:15 - 5:15 p.m.
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