As the Jeanne D’Arc revelry was winding down on January 6, Twelfth Night at the Civic Theatre was just revving up.
The elegant, mid-size venue rang in Mardi Gras season with a masquerade ball set to the tunes of three of the city’s most eclectic and well-followed acts: King James and the Special Men, Morning 40 Federation, and Quintron & Miss Pussycat.
The openers, a hilariously raunchy, mix-gendered trio of young rappers calling themselves Chilldr3n, were an unexpected lagniappe. No subject matter was off-limits as they gyrated happily all over the stage and successfully pressured audience members into dropping their pants in exchange for cheap costume jewelry. They call their music “dickcore,” and it was awesome.
Away from their smoky, sardine-packed residency at B.J.’s and up on the Civic’s stage, “King James” and crew were indeed looking kind of regal Tuesday night.
Quintron and Mrs. Pussycat. Photo by Laura DeFazio
It was a little disconcerting to see lead singer Jimmy Horn sans his signature red jumpsuit, but the full-length velvet cape went a long way in making up for it.
The set featured boisterous, bawdy R&B crowd-favorites like “Special Men Boogie” and “Eat That Chicken” (which somehow didn’t seem to be about dinnertime) and in no time at all, the masked crowd was bumping and grinding like it was another down and dirty night in the Bywater. Familiar faces even seemed to be staking out their usual dance-spots.
Highlights included perfectly synchronized, spine-tingling saxophone duets from Dominick Grillo and Bruce Brackman and a special appearance by Al “Carnival Time” Johnson, who performed his famous Mardi Gras anthem in a stunning jacket emblazoned with red beans.
Next up, Morning 40 Federation delivered the immaculate “drunk rock” they’re so well-loved for.
The merry sextet does rock like only devout New Orleans barflies can: blazing horns and a swinging rhythm section lined up alongside guitars onstage to get the crowd reeling and swaying with their odes to Big Easy debauchery.
By the time electronic-magus-slash-organist-extraordinaire Quintron took the stage with his wife and effervescent puppeteer Miss Pussycat, the slap-happy masses were pretty much ready for anything.
That being said, when you watch the lights rise on a silent stage to reveal an extraterrestrial-looking puppet theater sitting quietly in a cloud of smoke, and then a couple of hapless furry creatures launch into a spirited discussion about the pitfalls cake-baking, it’s something else entirely.
After much laughter and head-scratching, the culinary dilemma was (somehow) resolved, and Quintron kicked off a giddy whirl of “swamp-tech” dance tunes timed to the unrelenting rattle of Miss Pussycat’s maracas. It was an intoxicating concoction.
When the festivities finally wound down, groups of concertgoers tottered off worn out and content.
Fantastic music, piles of king cake, free champagne, and excessive confetti – what better way to usher in the city’s most festive season?
