The first weekend of the 41st annual New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival was, as usual, inspiring and full of surprises.
Friday’s forecast only called for cloudy skies, but constant, driving thunderstorms turned day one into a mud-drenched revelry. Local legend Anders Osborne took the opportunity to play his apropos “Lousiana Rain” as a mass of smiling, saturated fans of all ages danced to his gritty bayou blues. The most surprisingly fitting performance in the battering rain was Baaba Maal, whose sun-drenched sounds from Senegal had nearly everyone gyrating their bodies and kicking up mud. The storms seemed a perfect counterpoint to Maal’s rhythmic fury. But perhaps the luckiest people in this mess were those who arrived early and scored a spot in the shielded gospel tent. Not only were they protected from the weather, they enjoyed possibly the most stirring and overlooked part of Jazzfest: the goose-bump-inducing spirituals performed by the greatest gospel bands from all over the South.
Saturday’s weather was an even bigger surprise. Forecasts across the region called for tornado-like conditions with damaging wind and rain. Exhausted, drenched music lovers spent Friday night discussing if the show would go on Saturday or admitting their apprehensiveness to go through another day of such battering conditions. Many were disappointed that they might miss the hugely anticipated Simon & Garfunkel performance. But since they were having these discussions at a thrilling local concert or eating some of the greatest food in America, the attitude was devil may care. Miraculously, it didn’t rain all day, and the sun even came out for awhile just before it set.
As usual, there were many difficult decisions to make on Saturday. For me, the hardest was choosing between My Morning Jacket and Simon & Garfunkel. I chose MMJ, and Jim James and Co. didn’t disappoint, playing a riveting and passionate set of their greatest songs. James tore up solos on his Flying V guitar, confusingly donned a cape on various songs and led his band in delivering the epic rock show that they can’t seem to not pull off these days. Reports from the Simon & Garfunkel show were mixed. Garfunkel was quite sick and had lost his voice but made a valiant and somewhat unsuccessful effort to pull off the vocal harmonies that made their music what is was. Most of the crowd was just happy to see these legends play together in person, another one of the many iconic performances in Jazzfest history.
Sunday was the perfect day that everyone hopes for at Jazzfest: 85 degrees without a cloud in the sky and transcendental music flowing through the air at just about all of the 11 stages. New Orleans legends were displaying their greatness not only in their own sets, but in amazing performances with others. Voice Of The Wetlands All-Stars—featuring Dr. John, Johnny Vidacovich, George Porter, Jr. (Meters), Stanton Moore (Galactic) and Cyril Neville (Neville Brothers)—floored the crowd with an intense set of New Orleans funk, soul and R&B. At one point, the father of New Orleans soul, Allen Toussaint, joined them onstage, and seeing him playing the piano sitting right next to Dr. John on Hammond organ was one of those Jazzfest moments that you knew you were lucky to be around for.
But perhaps even more stirring was the following set from the Levon Helm Band. Helm paid tribute to the soul of New Orleans by welcoming Touissant onstage for a few songs, as well as Ivan Neville and even Dr. John for “Such A Night” (which was jarringly reminiscent of Helm’s performance of the song in the Band’s The Last Waltz). Helm’s band, with full horn section, was on fire. Helm was having a great time, drumming with as much authority and power as ever; on a few songs, he played mandolin and sang harmonies with his daughter and bandmate, Amy. The band ended with “The Weight,” inducing one of the loudest and most tailor-made sing-alongs I’ve ever seen.
The day ended with the Allman Brothers Band, which sounded better than it has in years. The interplay between Warren Haynes and the band’s other guitar wizard, Derek Trucks, was often breathtaking. Trucks (the closest to a reincarnation of Duane Allman on slide guitar) and Haynes weaved wailing, intense solos around each other. By the time the Allmans treated the crowd to an intense version of “The Whipping Post,” everyone was spent and more than fully satisfied. You could hear a lot of the first-timers in the crowd talking about how they’d be coming back to Jazzfest every year and bringing new friends to join in the amazing experience. Let’s hope they do. This great American city needs as much support and appreciation as the rest of our country can give it.
—Rocco DeCicco
