Of the many excursions to the Gospel Tent through the decades, two moments stand out.
There was an Easter Sunday years ago, back, when the Rhodes folks still sponsored it and before the admission skyrocketed so the venue was always packed with locals. As The Lord is my witness, the place levitated, so powerful was the spirit that Sunday.
Then there was the performance of Raymond A. Myles, may he rest in peace, during the weekend after the Rodney King arrest and the resulting riots in LA and the ensuing tension. Myles, who was the next big thing on the gospel circuit, turned the place into a love fest.
At the end of his set, he had everybody in the tent — literally, not just almost everyone, but everyone — with their arms around each other’s shoulders. Not just holding hands, arms around shoulders. Blacks. Whites. Germans. Japanese. Old. Young.
Brothers and sisters in arms, we were. True, lasting serenity seemed not only possible, but truly doable.
Now there’s a third transcendent day. Yesterday.
Perhaps it’s the crossroads I’m standing at, my personal situation that is in confusing flux, but it’s unlikely I’ll soon be shorn of yesterday’s spirit force.
The engines were primed by the Famous Rocks of Harmony.
We had ignition with Jo “Cool” Davis.
The Selvy’s provided full lift off, in what was the best and most inspiring performance I’ve ever experienced there.
Totally in sync, swaying in harmony with a rhythm calibrated by a higher power, backed by a rhythm section and four guitars, the all-male Famous Rocks of Harmony brought forth the spirit about four bars in.
“I Soon Will Be Done,” with the ongoing call of “Goin’ home.”
“Do You Feel The Power?”
“Are You Working For Jesus?”
Given the invocation of a drenching New Orleans rain, the tent filled early with a hearty group of Sunday morning worshipers, ready to be transported to a higher plane. There were whirling dervishes aplenty.
Which was but a warmup for The Selvys.
“Lean On Me.” “God Is My Everything.” And a version of “Oh Happy Day” that made the Edwin Hawkins Singers sound agnostic.
Each of this full bodied ladies has a voice a time zone across. With a true joy that permeated the tent, they had people jumping up and down in ecstasy. Literally.
It is hard not to hyperbolize. It was a mesmerizing time, I’m not sure I can fully explain.
There’s no reason for me to get into my personal stuff, but I stood humbled at the altar when Jo “Cool” Davis invoked the name of Sam Cooke, and his all-star gang broke into “It’s Alright.” Which refrain, I found myself singing along over and over again in the highest register, with tears of hope in my eyes.
Okay, enough. What I’ll say is this. If you’ve never been to the JazzFest Gospel Tent on a Sunday, you owe yourself the trans-formative experience.
* * * * *
Then there were the other magic moments.
Like the discovery of Tuba Skinny on the Lagniappe Stage.
They’re a band of street musicians with serious chops, a genuine feel and respect for traditional New Orleans music. Think Hot Five dressed by Goodwill.
Shaye Cohn on cornet is a serious contender. Erika Lewis’s vocals are sublime. And the rest of the clan are similarly fine.
They are an enchanting group, that played with panache and enthusiasm. They had me sitting, literally, up forward on the edge of my seat.
How cool to see the next generation, keeping the tradition alive and in good hands.
* * * * *
And Martha Redbone at Fais Do Do.
It was the paradigm of an FOMS moment.
I heard the last song and a half of this soulful, beguiling Native American chanteuse, and beat myself up for not making it sooner to the stage.
It won’t happen again.
* * * * *
Kristin Diable was suitably enchanting with her interesting voice and repertoire.
C.J. Chenier and his big band were, as always, maximum zydeco.
The Midnight Disturbers sounded fine, but I heard them right after leaving The Selvys, so it was going to take something awfully special to stir me.
Former Radiator Ed Volker was . . .well . . . tired and laconic if you were objective . . . or suitably laid back if you’re a Rads acolyte.
* * * * *
Between acts yesterday at Lagniappe, they were playing music through the PA, unlike the JazzFest norm where there is silence. It’s only the second time I can remember that happening, the first being a couple of years ago at the Blues Tent. (When I asked that sound guy about it, he checked with the authorities and it stopped.)
So I went up and asked the sound guy about it. Tony Corley is a nice fellow, a New Orleanian, working his first JazzFest.
He explained that his stage manager directed him to play music between sets.
So, shame on that stage manager.
* * * * *
While I doubt I’ll ever partake of one, given all the other food choices at the fest, it’s neat that there’s now a Lucky Dog stand in front of the Grandstand.
Nice move. It is a New Orleans tradition.
* * * * *
Loved how many stalwart troopers there were yesterday among the early arrivers yesterday.
The downpour didn’t matter. These folks were in town to party, and so they did.
The grounds were mucho mucky. Mud to the ankle bone.
It’s a powerful spirit. Something to be experienced. But, truth be told, it’s more fun when it’s dry.
* * * * *
Now we take a deep breath, and enjoy the Daze Between.
Mo’ later.