“Where are you going with that smile on your face?” “I’m going to the international circus of Jazz Fest, where I will hear all the possible permutations of the spirit of Professor Longhair. I’m going to hear the music of Fats Domino, of Ernie K-Doe, Allen Toussaint, Eddie Bo, Earl King, Tootie Montana, Clifton Chenier, Boozoo Chavis, Bo Dollis and especially the newest soul released, Charles Neville. Because the secret in New Orleans is that when you die you don’t go to heaven, you go to Jazz Fest forever.”
—John Swenson
Opening Day
Opening Friday was perfect weather, sunny with low humidity and a light breeze, and the crowd was in a low-key but joyous mood. Michael Skinkus (a member of Trio Mollusc) and his band Moyuba opened up a Haitian-influenced invocation of the Orisha spirits at the Lagniappe stage to dedicate the festival. The terrific band is built around rhythms from Skinkus’ elaborate bata drum setup with great accompaniment from Sam Price on bass, Gabriel Velasco on percussion and Brent Rose on sax and flute. The wonderful singers sang and chanted the Orishas down, included a new piece written for the god of the wind. Sula Janet Evans-Mshakamari, Andaiye Alimayu and Margie Perez had the breakfast crowd dancing in front of the stage.
—John Swenson
Lukas Nelson
There’s no way to not hear the similarity between Lukas Nelson, 29, and his 85-year-old father, Willie Nelson. Their singing shares a dry, high, nasal whine and an understated yet deeply earnest delivery. Judging from the younger Nelson’s well-attended Jazz Fest set on the Gentilly Stage during the festival’s first Friday, he’s also an accomplished songwriter and totally at home on stage. A fluent lead guitarist, too, although he prefers an electric instrument rather than an acoustic nylon-stringed model of the kind his dad plays.
Nelson also has a knack for narrative. In “Forget About Georgia,” he sang a poignant true story about a soul-shaking lover who got away. Her name was Georgia. “We made love for the first time in a hotel in New Orleans,” Nelson improvised at Jazz Fest. And after he and Georgia parted, much to the wounded Nelson’s regret, he had to listen to his father sing “Georgia on My Mind” every night on stage during their tours together. At Jazz Fest, Nelson made that haunting pain hurt so good.
—John Wirt
Fats Tribute
Though the crowd on day two felt a little light it was packed solid at the Acura Stage—Rod Stewart turned out to be quite a draw for this audience, and Bonnie Raitt, with her dynamic, Jon Cleary–led band, was worth headliner status in her own right. But the main attraction for a lot of people Saturday was the Fats Domino tribute. Fats graces this year’s great poster and one of the best T-shirts Jazz Fest has produced in a while, and the musical tribute lived up to expectations. There was a little something for everyone in this revue-style presentation—old-school turns by Deacon John and Irma Thomas, a showcase for Fats protégé Davell Crawford, millennial content with The Late Show’s Jonathan Batiste, Fats doppelganger Al “Lil’ Fats” Jackson and the Raitt-Cleary show.
Most importantly, this tribute was organized around the man behind the scenes, Dave Bartholomew, who co-wrote much of Fats’ material, built the band that defined his sound and produced the records. The band was magnificent, and everything rolled behind the continuous theme of one of its more memorable creations, “It Ain’t My Fault.” Hearing Roger Lewis on baritone in the Herb Hardesty chair sent chills up my spine. When Lewis played Hardesty’s solo note for note on the first “Blue Monday” solo behind Jackson he could have cracked open the sky.
The talented Batiste veered furthest away from doctrinal R&B with a melodica solo (the sound man blew the cue on this one and Batiste was playing dead air for the first chorus) on “I Want to Walk You Home” and a James Booker–esque classical introduction to “Ain’t That a Shame” that may well have left Fats scratching his head.
If you think Raitt was an odd choice for a Fats tribute, think again. After taking the stage and name-checking the late Charles Neville, Raitt charged into “I’m In Love Again,” which turned into a medley with Cleary singing “All By Myself.” Their call-and-response version of these two classics was a brilliant piece of arranging worthy of Bartholomew and one of the highlights of the show.
Jackson, looking uncannily like Fats himself as he hunched over the piano in a yellow jacket with blue chalk stripes and navy blue slacks, brought it on home with a cry of “Long live Mister Domino!” and a second line version of “Saints.” During the wonderful extended coda Deacon John return to the stage cakewalking and waving a handkerchief. If that didn’t put a smile on your face, god bless you.
—John Swenson
Cha Wa
Indians and brass bands at the Heritage Stage are no longer two distinct entities. The TBC brass band had Indians on stage during their set as they played “Sew Sew Sew”/”Hoo Na Ney” and of course Cha Wa mixes the two genres beautifully. Cha Wa co-leader J’Wan Boudreaux, Monk Boudreaux’s grandson, got a solo spot during Monk’s set with the Golden Eagles. Monk and the family were resplendent in their 2018 red Mardi Gras suits on a set that included Monk’s “Lightning and Thunder”/”Shallow Water” medley, “They Don’t Know,” “Dance With Me,” “Little Liza Jane,” “Indian Red,” “Sew Sew Sew,” “Meet the Boys On the Battlefront” and “Shotgun Joe.” The set was percussion heavy with the electric guitar playing mostly rhythm accents and keyboardist Tom Worrell playing to the drum rhythms with rumbling undercurrents and textures.
—John Swenson
Aerosmith
There only exist two rock quintets who still play with their exact ’70s lineups: the Radiators and Aerosmith (Los Lobos are close, but they added their fifth member in the ’80s). And in all honesty, Aerosmith’s set could have used more of the freewheeling spirit that the Rads displayed in theirs. In their only scheduled 2018 show, Aerosmith emphasized their ’80s comeback years at the expense of their earlier, better material: I would have slotted “Back in the Saddle” in place of “Love in an Elevator,” “Draw the Line” in place of “Rag Doll,” and anything at all in place of “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” (technically their biggest hit, but they didn’t write it and it gives their two guitarists almost nothing to do). I also would’ve axed the synthesizers and taped backing vocals that were way too loud in the mix throughout. Fortunately Aerosmith did include some of the real stuff, especially a tear through Fleetwood Mac’s “Oh Well” and their own barrelhouse rocker, “Adam’s Apple.” At those moments, their being at the Fest made a lot more sense.
—Brett Milano
Smokey Robinson
It was the best of Smokey, it was the worst of Smokey: Motown legend Smokey Robinson has been playing the exact same show for decades now, and the good news is that it includes a bunch of hits and some beautiful singing: He turned the ballads “Ooh Baby Baby,” “Quiet Storm” and “The Tracks of My Tears” into extended vocal showpieces that rightly brought the house down at a beyond-packed Congo Square. His many Motown stories were also a kick, especially if you haven’t seen the show before. But nearly 15 minutes’ worth of “Cruisin’”—including one of those “let’s see which parts of the audience can sing louder” deals—ate up time that could have gone to more from his mighty catalogue.
—Brett Milano
Lionel Richie
Lionel Richie’s set included one of the only power failures I’ve ever witnessed at Jazz Fest, about five minutes during which the stage sound cut out entirely. Fortunately the man’s a pro, and it didn’t take long to recover. Greatest-hits sets are always better when the artist is clearly enjoying the ride, which was the case here: Before one of his many bedroom ballads, he noted that “This song either got you married, got you engaged, or got your ass in trouble.” And “Dancing On the Ceiling,” lasers and all, reveled so much in ’80s nostalgia that it was tough to resist.
—Brett Milano
Chief Howard Miller
Chief Howard Miller led the Uptown Mardi Gras Indian rhythm section, which included members of other Indian gangs, several from Big Chief Monk Boudreaux’s Golden Eagles who were masked, plus a full backup group playing various percussion instruments. Early in the set, Chief Howard, who is most commonly associated with the Creole Wild West, reverently remembered saxophonist Charles Neville, who passed on April 13, 2018 and performed with the Wild Tchoupitoulas when led by his uncle, Chief Jolly. Later, Chief Howard, unlike some sterner Black Indians, sang with a hint of a smile on his face, “I am a warrior, I am a ruler.” When the group did the traditional “Ooh Na Nay,” the chief called out the names of Downtown gangs like the Flaming Arrows, Fi Yi Yi and the Yellow Pocahontas.
—Geraldine Wyckoff
Tribute to Charles Neville
The Neville Brothers ruled the New Orleans music scene in the 1980s and 1990s, with festival-closing sets every year until the group gradually dissolved into numerous individual projects. Charles was seldom the center of attention in the Nevilles, but his magnificent saxophone solos and shrewd colorations were an essential part of the group’s sound. He also brought an overriding spiritual presence to the band. He was deeply involved in Eastern meditation as well as Native American spirituality. Charles’ magnificent vibe shimmered across this year’s gathering, especially during Aaron Neville’s set because Charles was Neville’s saxophonist on so many signature tunes, and younger brother Cyril Neville’s set. The surprise came during Trombone Shorty’s Fest-closing performance, when he brought up several Neville family members to pay tribute to Charles.
—John Swenson
