Brett Milano and Michael Allen Zell reviews from Jazz Fest Day 2, Friday, April 24, 2026.

Not every kind of music—not even every kind of good music—is necessarily a good fit for Jazz Fest. When it comes to modern pop, the New Zealand artist Lorde is as good as it gets: She’s an intriguing writer, a magnetic singer and dancer. But maybe not a great enough performer to carry to the back of the Gentilly stage when it’s packed. Her show cries out for an intimate presentation: She performs alone on a bare stage, with no props and no live band (there were two musicians who mostly triggered programmed parts; one did an occasional guitar solo). Since this is pop music, it needed the dynamics that a live band could provide (there were also many sampled vocal parts, but Lorde’s lead vocals were live). And it helped to be close enough to appreciate how Lorde’s movements and facial language reflected the personal and romantic confessions in the songs. She still managed to connect a few times—the breakthrough hit “Royals” came early in the set, she stripped things down to recall teenaged romantic angst on “Liability,” evoked a nightclub feel on “Green Light” and made a trip into the crowd on the finale of “Ribs.” It all made you wish for a theater setting (or at least a YouTube feed) to really savor it.

The “Classic New Orleans R&B Revue” slot used to be the one Jazz Fest moment that reflected the old Ponderosa Stomp spirit [and the OffBeat Best of the Beat Awards], an oasis for pop historians and vinyl junkies. Not so much anymore, since many of the regulars (Al “Carnival Time” Johnson, Clarence “Frogman” Henry, Ernie K-Doe) have either retired or passed on. This year it was down to the Dixie Cups and Wanda Rouzan, both of whom made the most of their time. Still a fireball after all these years, Rouzan did a couple of New Orleans classics including Jessie Hill’s eloquent “Oo Poo Pah Doo,” and framed “Men of War” (a regional hit for the Rouzan Sisters) as a patriotic number; though it was very much an antiwar song when released in 1964. The Dixie Cups’ set was given mainly to covers, though they made “When Will I Be Loved” sound just like one of their own ’60s records—and they did Dr. John’s version of “Iko Iko” rather than the one they took to the charts. (I would’ve gladly knocked “God Bless America” out of the set to make way for the un-played “People Say,” their third greatest hit). But still, there was “Chapel of Love”—a song known to generations of couples, and one of the few “girl group” classics you can still hear sung by its original lead singer (Barbara Hawkins, the one living original, and still in fine voice). That alone is something to treasure.

Dayna Kurtz and Robert Mache. Photo courtesy of the artists.

Maybe it was because I learned, shortly before the Dayna Kurtz & Robert Mache set, that Jazz Fest nearly became the site of this week’s American mass shooting, but Kurtz’s song “Dear Rachel Carson” had me tearing up; though it’s mainly an ecological song, the chorus of “If we lose New Orleans, we lose everything” certainly resonated. That wasn’t the set’s only topical song: Before the gospel styled “What Did Jesus Say” Kurtz asked if the crowd was on the same page politically; the response to the lyrics (“He didn’t say nothing ’bout our bathrooms. He didn’t say shit about no border”) indicated that they were. (Both Mache and his vocalist wife Candace added to the onstage chorus). And she closed it out with “Don’t Tread On Me,” a woman’s response to the current administration, with Mache’s guitar kicking it along. Yes, there were some love songs in the set too. But though Jazz Fest tends to discourage political statements, a well-turned one can really hit the spot.

Unlike many albums that seemed destined for national success, the Lafayette band GIVERS’ 2013 debut In Light actually got some; with all of its tracks being licensed for TV and movies (They also won Best Rock Artist at OffBeat’s Best of the Beat Awards around then). But they went onto a less successful (though pretty good) second album; and have been scarce in recent years. This year found them reconvening their original lineup to play the entire In Light album in a couple local shows; at Jazz Fest they had time for most of it, plus a couple of bonus tracks. The mix of pop melody with Cajun and world-beat influences sounded fresh as ever; this was never a cookie-cutter pop group—not when flute, ukulele and double drums figured prominently in many tunes. And they can still deliver a mighty emotional kick—especially at Jazz Fest when Tiffany Lamson sang the soaring “Dust Devils,” a song that she learned from and dedicated to her late friend Chris Stafford of Feufollet. Their parting words were “See you again soon,” so hopefully this set was a reboot as well as a look back.
—Brett Milano

Watermelon Coconut mocktail and Softshell Crab Po Boy. Photo by Michael Allen Zell

One great thing about Jazz Fest is camaraderie with strangers all from the love of music. As it turned out, the person in front of me in line to enter the Fairgrounds, Harold Berger, had a baker’s two-dozen of Jazz Fest ticket stubs going back almost 30 years tucked into the brim of his sharp-looking Meyer The Hatter fedora.

Going with my route of hitting my choice food item of the day before the lines expand, I hit The Galley for their Softshell Crab Po Boy. Paired with a Tap NOLA Watermelon Coconut mocktail, I was all set for a great Friday.

Nell Simmons-Bradley kicked things off at the Congo Square Stage in her first headlining show. It was great to see Tank, DJ Arie Spins, and Tavia Osbey also there to support. The single “Therapy” rocked and grooved, while “Fiyo on the Bayou” showed Simmons-Bradley can do the classic New Orleans sound with the best of them. Look for great things to continue with her.

Papa Mali brought his Shantytown Underground for a rare but apropos show in the Cultural Exchange Pavilion. Complete with Lynn Drury and a horn section from heaven, they played a range of Jamaican hits and crate digger gems. “You Don’t Love Me (No, No, No)” and “Sea of Love” hit particularly well, while the band had the time of their lives.

If you want barn-burner smart-talking country-roots music, then Loose Cattle will lasso you in and you won’t squirm a bit. Whether it was the catchy “Not Over Yet” or the new song (perhaps titled “’Til Tomorrow”?), this is a band with the precision of a surgeon who chose a guitar instead of a scalpel.

Loose Cattle. Left to right, Rurik Nunan, Kimberly Kaye, Michael Cerveris. Photo by Michael Allen Zell.

This is the second year that acclaimed artist BMike and youth organization Eternal Seeds will honor those in the community as Eternal Flowers. The first to receive tribute in 2026 by way of a stunning painting done by the artist himself was “Baba” Luther Gray. He was the man behind what became the Congo Square Preservation Society.

The Gentilly Stage and Sevana’s set was the perfect vibe to sprawl out on the lawn. The Jamaican singer’s blend of reggae, lover’s rock, and more hit well, same as it did later in the Cultural Exchange Pavilion. Mark my words that Sevana is one to watch. She’s one song away from being an international star.

Imagine the paradise where you wander the Fair Grounds as Rosie Ledet’s locked-in zydeco groove turns into Cyril Neville’s uptown funk, which shifts into a Pied Piper-like energy that beckons you to the Jazz and Heritage stage. This is the blessing of taking a stroll around Jazz Fest, hearing favorites and learning new sounds.

Shrimp Yakisoba. Photo by Michael Allen Zell

It was my first taste of Los Skarnales. Armed with Ajun Cajun’s Shrimp Yakisoba, I was equal parts joyful and stunned. More on them to come.

Protoje has an album, Age of Acceptance, that just dropped, and the Congo Square Stage crowd was ready for it. Whether “Feel It” or one of his older songs, the reggae crowd welcomed his vibe and pro command.

There is nothing better than hearing classic New Orleans songs like “Eh La Bas” or a singer’s showcase such as “To You My Love” interpreted by the 15-piece Adonis Rose Jazz Orchestra. Add vocalist Andromeda Turre blessing the stage, and the performance was a perfect love letter to the Crescent City, perfectly sealed with the kiss of John Boutte’s “Treme” to conclude things.

Anyone who isn’t a Jazz Fest first timer knows the conundrum of headliner sets. If you park yourself all day at one particular stage to guarantee a great seat for the headliner, then you are essentially wiping the table clean of catching anything else that day at any other stage. If you instead bounce around and seek to catch the headliner at the Festival Stage, then you are likely to be standing slightly outside the 504 area code with others so tightly packed around you that it soon becomes unclear where their arms end and yours begin. The only thing you’re fully aware of is that you can only get the energy of the show from the big screen.

The latter was the situation I found myself in when seeking to catch Jon Batiste’s Friday-ending performance. I love his music, what he’s about, and how he reps New Orleans, but yet, the sheer size of the sprawling crowd had me trudging away.

Luckily that disappointment soon turned to child-like joy. As it turned out, Los Skarnales was playing their second show, a headliner spot in the Cultural Exchange Pavilion. I defy anyone to say that they’ve heard of another ska/cumbia/punk rock/Chicano band, and even if so, I have little doubt that another group could possibly be so full of sheer fun and put on such a great performance.

One example of several—their version of “Pressure Drop” by Toots and the Maytals ended with the crowd sunk down to our ankles while the horn section and guitar player were playing a slowed-part while laying on their backs on the floor amongst the crowd. Meanwhile, the keyboardist had his instrument off the stand while he played it as it rose vertically to the sky, also while he was amongst the crowd. All this, until the drummer brought the song back for a rousing close-out that had everyone jumping back up and dancing like the world depended on it. Thank you, Los Skarnales. I needed that. So does the world.
—Michael Allen Zell

Adonis Rose and Andromeda Turre. Photo by Michael Allen Zell