The Voodoo they do so well

Sorry for not posting for a while, but midterms and money-shortages have been going around on college campuses everywhere. I caught it for a while, but luckily it went away on its own and now I'm doing all better. Thanks for the concern.

Outdoor festivals are a slippery slope, just because there are so many things that could go wrong. Too hot, too cold, mud, rain, food is too expensive, too many people on drugs, riots, and so on. I get nervous whenever I go because I get flashes of scenes from Woodstock or Altamont, knowing that the whole day could easily turn into chaos. Luckily, the first day of Voodoo Fest in New Orleans was about as perfect as an outdoor festival could be. Sunny but breezy, amazing food, just enough mud to get dirty and dance in but not enough to swamp everyone, and most importantly great music. Of course I can’t talk about every band there, but I’ll tell you about the ones I did manage to see.

The first full set we sat through was Brazilian Girls. Now I know the hype surrounding this band, and how they’re progressive-darlings and have almost reached that coveted mainstream-for-the-non-mainstream status, but I just didn’t get it. If it sounds good recorded, it just didn’t translate live. There comes a certain point with techno where it would sound better recorded because you can’t reproduce all the sounds, or have the organic spontaneity that comes with performing live. Though they got some of the crowd dancing, it was just too much noise to take.

Making our way to another stage, and marveling at Troy Andrews & Orleans Ave for having one of the most talented trumpeters we’ve ever seen (shown in the form of a 2 minute trumpet trill…circular breathing is sexy), we stayed for what was possibly the most fulfilling set of the day: Kinky. This Mexican quintet fuses funk, techno, rock, accordion and mariachi trumpet into one sexy outfit that’s as complicated as it is beautiful. From the outside they look like a mismatched gang of outcasts: the bassist in a cowboy hat and a Penn State football t-shirt, the lead singer in converse and a fedora (more reminiscent of The Strokes than salsa), the guitarist in 2 out of a three piece suit, the drummer with no shirt on and the keyboardist/accordionist with a mullet, trash-stache and aviators. Who knew they could work so well together? What separates the great live bands from just the great bands that play live is chemistry. You can all be talented, but if you don’t have chemistry then it’ll never reach its full potential. But oh god did these guys have chemistry. Switching between Spanish and English lyrics, and infusing rock with bongo drums and an electric upright bass, they drew a crowd and let everyone party. Of course it helps that they’re all good looking, and by the end when lead singer Gilberto Cerezo jumped on the speaker in the crowd, I’m sure he could have had his way with anyone in the audience.

Social Distortion was next on the list, and after about a thirty year career these guys still had it in them. They played old and new, and even some covers with “Under My Thumb” and “Ring of Fire.” Mike Ness still has the same raw vocals as ever, and thought the lineup has changed endlessly since the late 70’s, they still have a great sound. “Ring of Fire” was a fitting cover, since these guys evoke what Johnny Cash would have been if he had a few more tattoos and an electric guitar, and maybe was born in New York instead of Arkansas. Songs like “Prison Bound” and “Ball and Chain” embody the same hopeful sorrow that the Man in Black always sang about. And with such a long career, Social Distortion has gathered that same reverence, even if few people could pick them out on the street.

An hour standing in the mud and lots of uncomfortable elbows in sides and accidental groping later, Red Hot Chili Peppers took the main stage. These guys have always been a weird mix, with Flea in a paisley leotard slapping away at his bass, and John Frusciante evoking Jimi Hendrix with his Fender. Anthony Kedis was of course up there, looking ever more like Iggy Pop with his post-heroin-chic look. The best parts of the show came with Frusciante’s and Flea’s solos, where their ridiculous talent completely outshined whatever song they were doing. Of course they pleased the NOLA crowd by dabbling in “Apache Rose Peacock,” and Frusciante nearly brought tears when he took the stage by himself, singing “The City of New Orleans.” You could tell that this meant something to them, seeing both Kedis and Chad Smith sporting Fleur-de-Lis tattoos on their arms. Unfortunately, Kedis didn’t bring as much to the table as I thought he would have. His energy was there, but it wasn’t focused. He sang the lyrics and then danced off-beat all around the stage, kicking the air and jumping off the drums. It seemed, dare I say it, contrived, as if he wanted to prove he still had the fire he had in the bands youth. Flea was the one who made most of the connection with the audience, telling us how happy they were to be there and how much they loved this city, while Kedis wandered aimlessly around stage. They gained momentum during their encores though, which blew everyone away. First one they brought out New Orleans favorites The Meters, who Flea has always idolized. They got into drum battles, bass battles, and guitar-riff battles while Kedis and the Band sang “Hand Clapping Song.” No one could turn away from that one. Then their second encore had them doing “Give It Away,” and anyone who had tried to leave immediately ran back and jumped.

You always leave a festival with tired feet and in desperate need of a shower, but also always with a realization that there is so much out there that you haven’t yet heard. I wish I could have written about more, but all I can say is that from what I saw, this festival is bound to keep going for ages, hurricanes or not.