The inaugural New Orleans Songwriters’ Festival was a success, drawing over 100 performers for the Friday night Bluebird Cafe Open Mic at the Blue Nile, and attendance surpassed expectations for both writers’ rounds, including the evening at the House of Blues with Zachary Richard, Cassandra Wilson, Allen Toussaint and Jimmy Webb.
At that show, Richard, Wilson and Toussaint performed – the low point was Wilson covering (huh?) the Allman Brothers’ “Midnight Rider,” then not knowing the words – followed by a short conversation between Toussaint and Webb, then a set by Webb.
Despite “Midnight Rider,” the show was often remarkable. Toussaint finished that set with an extended version of “Southern Nights,” one that started with a spoken introduction that was nearly 10 minutes long as he set the scene that inspired the song. It was Springsteenian as he accompanied himself with a lush, romantic version of introduction melody; the story was sentimental but studded with punch lines and moments of intentional drama. When he mentioned the family matriarch stopping to take a nip from a flask she kept on the floor, he stopped playing and pantomimed her actions as he described them, then paused and restarted the melody on the beat. As wonderful as the song is, that story was magnetic and presented a warmer, more open and expansive Toussaint than we usually see, and it was something I hope we see more of.
Webb’s set was simply beautiful and emotionally wrenching. With the exception of the out-of-place “Up, Up and Away,” he chronicled existential uncertainty in song after song. He mourned the recent devastation and the fact that the words to “Galveston” – written during the Vietnam War – are still relevant. The song is like “White Christmas,” an imagined vision of home sung out of longing from a distance. After this summer’s hurricane, though, the singer’s in a double bind – remembering his girl from the front, and not sure she or the beach that he longs for are even there anymore.
His slightly fragile vocal performance – good voice, but hardly a Glen Campbell, Art Garfunkel, Frank Sinatra or Johnny Cash, all of whom cut songs that he performed in the night – only added to the emotional resonance and the drama of characters struggling to stay connected to their worlds and most specifically, their loved ones, and never moreso than in “Wichita Lineman.” As he sang, “I need you more than want you / and I want you for all time / and the Wichita lineman / is still on the line,” he wasn’t Campbell asking you to believe he’s that worker who can’t find his way home – he was the worker, and his pain, love and longing were palpable.
I watched the show with Susan Cowsill, who met Webb when the Cowsills and Webb were guests together on The Mike Douglas Show, and with a younger friend who only knew his name and stature but not his songs. Both were as moved as I was, and it would have taken a pretty hard heart to walk away from that show untouched.
