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Tamarie T and Thee Elektra Kumpany

                First and foremost, I love the energy Tamarie brings to this interview. There are moments of bare sincerity which speak to me meaningfully as a fellow musician and bandleader and I wanted to share my thoughts. I was unable to check out the show on Frenchmen he recently hosted, but I hear it was out of sight. Please consider listening to the full interview on the Neworleansmusicians.com Podcast. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy. Here is a brief bio summary of Tamarie for anyone who missed the podcast.

                Tamarie T is an artist born in Inglewood, Chicago who has recently moved to New Orleans to continue his artistic career and bring his signature funk vibrations into the musical melting pot of the city.  Continuing in the tradition of early funkateers, Tamarie performs with a full ensemble complete with rhythm section, horns, vocalists and even dancers. His early career, which included covering the music of powerhouse artists such as Prince, eventually led to a role as a booking manager at Chicago’s Underground Wonder Bar. During these early years, he was able to establish a network of musicians (both peers and mentors), as well as begin to develop what would become a signature musical styling and dynamic stage presence. Tamarie calls his music “Exotic Funk”.  Let’s dig in.

                What is exotic funk? On an immediately relatable level to many musicians, exotic funk is the opposite of “everything”. Tamarie details a discussion wherein he was cautioned against saying the band plays everything. Personally, I have received similar advice from many of my mentors over the years. I have been a bandleader for over fifteen years, and I have changed styles and tastes in various ways. As the years go by, material from previous phases begins to accumulate and decisions must be made about the direction of the group musically and from a marketing perspective. Many artists find themselves in between established “genres” and must choose the lesser of two evils when deciding how to file paperwork on streaming platforms, etc. I tip my hat to Tamarie for putting boots to the pavement and taking on long-form interviews like this in order to be clear and descriptive.

                Tamarie paved his own way toward expression. He describes his career ascent from self-promoting on Craigslist as a “frontman extraoridinaire” to developing his musical and industry chops by reaffirming his constant desire to find his own sound. Tamarie speaks about “assuming the roles of our elders” as he describes the foundation and reformations of his ensemble. Again, I would encourage anyone reading this to give a listen to the full interview, especially if you yourself are at a transitional point in your career where you are looking to expand beyond covering other people’s tunes. I personally continue to perform occasionally with cover groups, but when I perform solo or with my band, I choose to do exclusively original music. This is a transition I was only personally willing to commit to after the pandemic, but this portion of the interview was especially compelling for me as a listener.

                Venturing into a personal aside, I also found it relatable when Tamarie spoke about various elements of sacrifice that are sometimes required to be a musician. And doubly so if you choose to forge your own path. As with most things in life, the factors at play will not be identical between any two people on this planet when it comes to major decision making. This topic, that is- the sacrifices musicians make to purse the lifestyle which suits them, could be the subject of a novel on its own. For the time being I intend to leave the subject alone, but perhaps will write a separate opinion piece to take a closer look at the matter in general.

                For now, let’s talk about New Orleans. It is a visceral city in which to be a musician and there is enough excitement generated per day to power a small-town power grid. For many, the first performances in the city are absolutely electrifying and can generate enough mental momentum to make you feel like you can conquer the world. This certainly seems to be the case with Tamarie, and I hope to see his career continue to grow during his time in the city. There are likely enough articles out about the potential roadblocks and the pitfalls which lay about, so let’s instead take a tangent.

Tamarie mentions the lack of response by various venues to his email requests to schedule a performance date, which is something I believe most musicians can empathize with in one way or another. There are, of course, some band leaders (the names change, the game doesn’t) who will prey on new-to-town musicians and there are always suspicions that venues may not be paying what is owed. But beyond the surface-level (and unsolicited) cautionary tales any local musician could share, and to avoid potential slander, I would like to use this article to encourage Tamarie and others to continue pushing for opportunities to perform (for money) their original music.

He describes his first performance in the city with local musician Sierra Green. I have personally had the pleasure of working with Sierra Green numerous times and I am vicariously thrilled for Tamarie to be introduced to such a business-minded (and bullshit-avoidant), charismatic and knowledgeable veteran of the scene. Anyone who has heard Sierra knows she possesses an incredible voice and a powerful stage presence. Certainly, a potentially exciting pairing for as vibrant of an artist as Tamarie. He also mentions trombonist and band member Maurice Cade, another New Orleans transplant born in Chicago. Maurice, in addition to performing with Tamarie and Sierra, is the trombonist in my horn section, The KB Horns. Maurice’s playing was recently featured at the Blues Music Awards in Memphis where The KB Horns accompanied blues guitarist Kenny Neal. All that to say, I believe Tamarie has found himself in exemplary company when it comes to fabulous musicians with earnest intention.  

Returning to the interview, Tamarie makes an aside about “assuming the roles of our mentors” which I found quite compelling. As the years pass, we do inevitably find ourselves in a position wherein we must take the mantle from whoever paved the way for us. Although we may never get an opportunity to inherit a legacy show or even meet our musical icons, I believe Tamarie is right in pointing out that we must appreciate the mentors who shaped our early years and we must express that gratitude to them in whatever way we can. Tamarie talks about the eventual reformations of his ensemble which led to staffing decisions that excluded long-time band members. He spends some time on this point, elaborating on the delicacy of the situation and the process by which bands transition to new membership while still showing respect for the members who are not chosen to represent the current trajectory. Having been a bandleader for over a decade, I relate to this deeply because sometimes the decisions can be absolutely gut-wrenching. It takes a certain type of person to balance the role of a business manager and that of the artist. Music is very often emotionally involved work, and I appreciate that Tamarie took the time in the interview to speak on the necessity of being considerate to those who must be let go in a transition. Life is hard enough; we must be nice to each other.

Coming to a final quote, Tamarie speaks about an interaction with Sierra Green where he was told to “not be humble”. Now we are playing with fire, and I love it! There is always a necessity for respect and decorum, relative of course to the situation, but there is a sound truth in the sentiment that the meek will not inherit the stage in New Orleans. I think there is a sound logic within this idea, and I want to point out again that this interview in its entirety goes into great detail about this point (I don’t want to see anyone taking this out of context). I personally relate to and agree with the sentiment, and I believe it goes without saying that in the context of all other topics discussed in the interview Tamarie shows a consistent empathy and compassion for his core band as well as temporary hires. Disclaimers aside, holy shit what a good thing this is to hear early on in your New Orleans journey.

This is a fiercely competitive gig market, with a lot of room for sidemen and fill-ins. But there are only so many stages and so many tourists to entertain on a given day. Until the point in your career where you are selling tickets with your name on them to pay your bills, being a bandleader in a tip-driven economy is no small undertaking. Recruiting band members who will make themselves available to you to take a chance on original music in a cover-dominated environment can be tricky, and Tamarie points out that even once you clear that hurdle the musicians will likely be involved in several other projects simultaneously. Scheduling rehearsal can be a nightmare, and commitments can often be quickly severed when the prospect of higher-paying work is introduced. It is not an easy task, and can be complicated even still by the lack of response by bigger name venues. Speaking from experience, it can be exhausting.

I encourage Tamarie, and anyone else looking to present their original music, to pursue this goal to the fullest extent possible. Tamarie, you are in good company (Kumpany?) and I wish you nothing but success. Don’t let the bullshit wear you down, and do what you can to stay true to your vision. I don’t believe there is any dishonor in taking pickup cover work if it helps keep things moving, and there are lots of places beyond tourist-populated clubs to perform. Big crowds are nice, but it’s hard to retain people’s attention and even harder to make fans who seek you out independently. I wish you success, and I am looking forward to meeting you out on the scene!

I’ll say this, nobody is going to see you as anything but yourself in New Orleans as long as you put it out there. Shine on!

Author: Kasey Ball

For: Neworleansmusicians.com

About the author:

Kasey Ball is a Louisiana born composer/arranger, multi-instrumentalist and producer. He is a 15-year veteran of the Louisiana music scene and bandleader of KB & the Backbeat.

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David Trahan

In mid-January of this year, I was joined on one of my new podcasts by the proprietor of NewOrleansMusicians.com. We met originally on the Mississippi River in a previous life and time under considerably different circumstances. I wouldn’t call it a chance encounter as it was our respective day jobs that brought us together that morning, but it was, without question, an intriguing introduction. He wasn’t like any other I’d met in his position. Little did I know the complexities of the man standing before me.

The opportunity to observe and study David’s mind in action was one with which I’d been eager to embrace. I wanted to know what made him tick. There was an odd connection that morning on the river. I most certainly had a sincere interest in his intended topic of discussion for our podcast visit, but also very much in the side of him that he seemed to be low-key deliberately keeping separate from his web presence. I appreciated his candor and participation in my podcast project, and owed him the very same respect he’d shown me, though our very first moment meeting would have suggested no such thing. 

I was working for one of the largest towboat and barge companies in the country, and his employer was no slouch either. They were a contractor for us. I’d boarded the vessel at an opportune time where I got to spend time with back watch first. Back watch had the characters (I thought). Some of those guys preferred it. It was such a different pace of life out there.  I could feel it in the air in the wheelhouse that morning.  A certain choking silence intruded as he came back up for his next six-hour watch.  A flurry of perceived thoughts resounded across the space between us and in that glare that stared at me as he came up those steep, wooden stairs…

“You mother fucker. I haven’t had coffee yet. Who the fuck is this guy? Why is he in my wheelhouse?”

And then the other pilot chuckled his way back downstairs.  I may have fabricated these thoughts in my recollection and retelling here, but anyway, I digress.  I paused for a moment when he first appeared before me. I blinked myself into quiet and regained my composure. This guy was different.  He was distracted by a pointless distraction, but I was really only there to make money.  I had a household to support.  I’d been visiting boats to help coach pilots on a new computer system every other week for a while by then.  David didn’t really need my help in the system. A few pleasantries and minor questions about the new system precluded a much deeper and more engaging conversation.

It turned out that our mutual misconceptions were forgotten when the coffee pot began dripping behind him. I kept in touch deliberately over time. He wanted to promote his project on my new podcast, and his passion for this website I hadn’t heard of was clearly evident and on display. I didn’t much follow the music scene these days, but I was, indeed, from just outside News Orleans.

My podcast projects document the lives of my guests from a broad array of origins and journeys through life. I’d kept in touch with David over the few short years since we’d first met, and often discussed the side projects upon which we’d both been so feverishly working on our time off. In one of the more recent of those conversations, he shared the story of a passion project of his to develop a service for the local music industry in The Big Easy that had been in production for many years, lingering forever in the back of his mind.

‘I sat back in quiet awe as I studied the backdrop before which he sat looking toward me. His studio mic reached out from left to right on screen and sat ready at his chin. He’d done this before. I knew this should be a good one.’

The conversation began as they all did, and I learned we grew up in the same area of southeast Louisiana just outside New Orleans, but we did so a decade apart.  It was a different world.  He was in my older brother’s generation, but some sort of trust had somehow developed between us over time. There was an unspoken acknowledgement of mutual respect, understanding and comprehension, but from when he had first left home to the time I met him, our lives couldn’t have been more divergent.  

His journey through life began as most others do. He showed up one day in 1976 and developed a love and appreciation for music at a very early age. Gifted in school, but drawn more to life in the streets, he found himself traveling aimlessly down the wrong path.  Disenchanted and distracted, he didn’t even finish college. Working odd jobs between and after classes wasn’t cutting it, nor were the jobs he’d been able to secure in the interim after cutting ties with his tertiary education.

The need and desire for disposable income and a happenstance job listing led him to a career entirely unrelated to music. It provided a path and direction out of trouble and well offshore.  Amidst a developing career in an industry to which he’d had little to no exposure previously, an opportunity arose for him to acquire the full rights and ownership of a website project he believed in. He endeavored to secure a web presence and acquired every available domain he could that may pertain to his new project.

His respect for the industry in which he worked professionally, and the knowledgebase upon which he drew on the job, led naturally to the drive and ambition that structured his pursuit of the passion project he sought to develop online when he was at home. It had become an obsession. With a growing family and an already demanding career, NewOrleansMusicians.com had not fallen by the wayside. It remained at top of mind for him no matter where he was or what he was doing.

What began as a networking tool for local bands, the website, NewOrleansBands.net, had grown organically to about 300 bands in its original configuration. The website was hosted out of town, so it remained online through Hurricane Katrina in late 2005, and kept local bands in touch with one another. David’s intended acquisition was delayed due to his job offshore, but in all of his spare time, he was drawing out by hand every page he’d imagined for the website he sought to own.  

The challenges of web development at that time were obstacles preventing his dream.  He persisted nonetheless. In 2021, after years of spending money to maintain an excessive amount of owned domain names that tied directly to his website, he was spurred by a wife that had seen and heard enough about it.  Since then, he found and hired a programmer to deliver the dream he’d envisioned. While he hasn’t yet realized the grand design, he’s moved it every month toward the finish line.  If you’re a band anywhere in the state of Louisiana, or a part of any supporting service for the entertainment industry, check out NewOrleansMusicians.com.  

Grow together.  Geaux together.

We touch on his wife and family after he paints the dreamscape of his website.  Then, from rebuilding a ’76 Chevy to tinkering on the piano, the website still outshined the rest. There was a certainty about him, a dreaminess, a gleaming eye. He knew he wouldn’t be where he was without the nudge of the support system that awaited him at home for ten days at a time on repeat seemingly forever.

“Here I am all grown up, Tim,” he’d finished with a laugh.

“I’m watching it live,” I responded.

You can expect two podcasts, at least four videos, and two articles every month on the site. And he hosts interviews to find and develop worthwhile content for the page. Musicians that join his site get immediate podcast and playlist placement, Youtube features, and promotional assistance all for free. And they can use his site to network, buy/ sell gear, read articles about Louisiana’s music scene, and experience music and videos from Louisiana’s scene. This man means it. He’s chasing the dream. Hop on that train before it leaves the station.

Anyway… All that to say, “Cheers, David.”

I find it difficult to comprehend the passion and commitment David demonstrates with NewOrleansMusicians.com. The schedule, agenda, and deadlines that he upholds for this thing are untenable to me. If I was nearly half as passionate about my own podcasts, I could probably make a career out of it. But I had the same concerns about financial security, the same reasons he maintained his day job, the same uncertainty that plagues any dream. David needs a better work schedule though. I’d like to start a petition…

Author: Tim Tregle

For Neworleansmusicians.com

Please check out my work.

“The Living History Collection” on YouTube. 

www.youtube.com/@WhereYatStudiosLLC

On Spotify, Google, Apple, and Amazon…

Between the Levees and Getting to Know You – Where Y’at Studios, LLC

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Pocket Chocolate

Imagine having to gather your extended thoughts precisely, no matter how abstract. And even though you weren’t sure how they’d be received, imagine having to deliver them in front of a large audience; all eyes on you. Now imagine you have nine personalities. You have nine schedules, nine talents, nine lives. This is the impossible that Pocket Chocolate is tasked with each time they hit the stage. But when nine lives of nine members converge precisely, it can seem like magic to one’s soul. Funk is the only map through this labyrinth of sound. Syncopated beats and lagging time help tell a story where the timing is in the delay. Even though they started off as a cover band, they always converged on an impromptu jam session mid-song. And from there, in a seamless, non-stop transition, they would somehow find their way into the next cover. These were both an homage to the leaders of yester year and a statement of the groove shared between two pieces; a subtle puzzle, if you will. Gradually, the nine lives have moved toward original material. Which, in itself, might leave a tumultuous mark in time. As after covering so many great sounds originating from so many great minds, it could get hard to denote where the cover ends and the original begins. Still, like their signature method of a cover itself, Pocket Chocolate seeks to vocalize their multi-faceted encounter as one nation under a groove, establishing their own signature sound.

I sat down with Gabe France and Dalton Steiffel in a studio above a book store on Oak Street in New Orleans that I later described to my wife as a shrine. The space was lined with new and vintage synthesizers, amps, guitars and various other instruments. String lights lined the brick wall behind us. And as I set up for the interview, I couldn’t help but get the sensation I felt being in a Toy’s R Us as a kid. We were casual but punctual, and ready to go to work. We began by discussing what life was like for Gabe growing up. His household played host to an eclectic selection of music, Simon and Garfunkel, Beatles, Led Zeppelin, show tunes, and old New Orleans classics all shared time on the speakers. This was due in part to his growing up with three siblings. His mother, a pianist herself, would urge Gabe and his brothers to get involved in extracurricular activities centered around music and art. His older brother played in bands in school. But Gabe never gravitated toward playing. Music was always of interest to Gabe, namely 70’s funk and soul, and locals like John Cleary and Dumpstafunk. But he was into sports and had never envisioned himself as a musician. It took a bit of persuasion from his older brother and friend Connor, and seeing his older brother perform in bands of his own to pull him in. And at 11 he picked up a guitar. What was once an afterthought gradually turned into a sincere passion. Throughout the development of the story of his life, it was interesting for me to see the progression of Gabe’s involvement with music. He went from not seeing himself as a musician to ultimately playing three instruments, writing music theory, writing and singing lyrics, organizing set lists, and through his member coordination and contributions on bass, assuming responsibility for cohesiveness of the group. His relationship with music has definitely changed his perspective.

Though his introduction to playing music came gradually through family and friends, that hasn’t always been the case. Originally, Gabe and his older brother both played guitar in Pocket Chocolate and their friend Reese played bass. But just before the pandemic, Reese moved out of town. And suddenly, the band found itself a man short. Gabe laughs recalling the rough transition, “It wasn’t that bad, you know. Especially going from the mindset of oh you know, I’m a guitarist. And then you have to switch. But I think it was definitely the best thing that could’ve happened…  When you play guitar, you listen to the guitar (parts). When you switch instruments, I’m listening to other things that I probably wouldn’t have been focusing on before. Now that I can kind of jump between instruments. You’re listening to the whole sound differently. Instead of, oh I’m going to take a solo right here, it’s oh I need to play something on bass right here that kind of sits in the background for them to take a solo. It’s helped me realize the whole structure of the song.” Here, by way of necessity, Gabe found himself grasping the reigns of congruity for the sound as a whole. His respect for the craft lent him to the preservation of harmony. And I might add, this is one of the many reasons I love music so much. The idea that, without speaking, people can come together, becoming one vessel, yet respecting each other’s individuality. Solos are the flowers bestowed upon members by each other.

Pocket Chocolate has been playing together for about five years now. With nine members, a recorded EP, and too many show dates played to cite, it has instilled in Gabe an ability to coordinate on a grand scale. Drawing from his affinity for live albums and yesteryear’s popular method of one room, the band chose to record their EP in an altogether fashion at Downman Sounds in Gentilly, New Orleans. And in doing so sought to capture the raw sound; that sonic moment in time. Dalton added, “The big thing of that was doing it together in a live room, but taking full advantage of the recording process. And being able to go over afterward with the same microphone, the same horn players, and the same take, but just kind of reverberate and polish up those parts. You’re able to put the focus in and drill it. That way they have the credit they deserve for the work they put in for the parts.” The EP consists of five original tracks, as well as two covers in Pocket Chocolate style. And by saying that I mean you might hear what starts off as a cover of Fire on the Bayou by The Meters. Then it may break off into a jam session and gradually morph into Fly Like an Eagle by the Steve Miller Band. It’s a unique sound and presents an interesting contribution to the cover format. The band is shooting for a full-length album around summertime this year filled with originals and covers in similar fashion. For Gabe, learning song structure has helped with the process of structuring an album. And writing together with eight other members will always send the band on a journey to find its own best practices. “A lot of times, it will inevitably change just because there’s eight other people… that get a certain feeling or idea from what I have. You have to compromise and be willing to kind of go somewhere where you might not have thought that it could go.” And sometimes, believe it or not, things seem to fall right into place for the band. “It’s almost like musical vomiting. You know, just like throwing every idea you have possible. Because inevitably, once you keep going, you’ll find something where it’s like ok this is, I can work with this. And so, we got to that point with this specific one. This was just the rhythm section; so, guitar, bass, drums. I think Dalton was probably there as well on percussion and keys. And we kind of had a brainstorm of a certain idea that we wanted to continue with. But it was pretty much just one section of a song. And then we jammed a little bit with my cousin who plays guitar and it just was like oh, here we go! We have the chorus part now. We have the little interlude section or whatever. And then the horns kind of came in and have been working up a little part. Yeah, from where it started it’s just so cool.” This process is somewhat mirrored in their live performances. Only, it is more reminiscent of a comedian on stage with new material for the first time. They are working things out; using opportunities as a litmus to see what works and what doesn’t. And the final product is as close to what was in their mind at the time as can possibly be. Sometimes that means using a lull in the head count of a crowd at a bar to perform an original song they’ve never before performed live. “This can’t hurt. And it matters, obviously because it’s practice, you know. It’s getting the work in and reps. But the pressure’s off maybe a little bit more. And that kind of gives you a little more opportunity to maybe, you know, maybe I’ll try this out.”

The influence of many members has had a positive impact in other ways. It has been instrumental in creating an identity for the band. And not just in terms of physical presentation on stage, but in their own sound and abilities. Being rooted in that New Orleans sound, it would be a stretch to cover certain local groups lacking the horn section, for instance. But boasting a brass section of three sax players and two trumpet players has given them the competence to tackle such things. Building upon this, the band has extended their reach and appeal through strategy. Booking Krewe du Vieux Ball and the Krewe of MadHatters parade this year meant setting a deadline on the EP. And seeking to present their recorded work closely to what crowds have come to love in their performances, they have arranged their track list much like their live shows.

In my time interviewing, I have yet to meet a band member, studio head, or venue owner whose company I didn’t enjoy. And if you know me, that’s saying a lot! Gabe and Dalton were no exception. They seemed grateful for this opportunity, and willing to open their minds for my perusal. The idea that any one of my interview subjects could be, or already are, a global sensation is cast aside. And for that moment we are all just people with a common love for music. We discussed so much more in my time there; too much to cover here. But you can catch the podcast of this interview at https://neworleansmusicians.podbean.com/. And the interview will be disseminated in parts and ultimately as a whole on our Youtube Channel. My sincerest thanks go out to Dalton Stieffel and Gabe France for allowing me an intimate perspective of their lives and hard work. More from Pocket Chocolate can be found on our site, Neworleansmusicians.com and also https://pocketchocolatemusic.wixsite.com/pocketchocolatemusic.

Author: David Trahan

Neworleansmusicians.com

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What a Waste – Demo Review

Dave-vocals, Joe-guitar, Bobby-bass, Billy-drums

So, I was on a freshman class field trip one time down to the Gulf Coast. A group of six of us were staying in a hotel overnight and attending a seminar the next morning. The chaperone was our basketball coach; a middle-aged flub whose appeal had waned where sarcasm had waxed. Out of boredom, I had taken to the hallways of this place, staring out the windows at the dimly lit sand wishing I could figure out a way to get some beer and a bit of freedom. It was late, and the parking lot was dark. But I was positive I had just watched our coach kiss some woman and then get into her car, inexplicably driving away in the night. I knew immediately that this was grounds for mayhem and the time was now. And I have said all that to say this… This memory is what came to mind while listening to the first track on this demo by What a Waste, “Nailed to Your Southern Cross”. The sticks count in and instantly you’re hit with a motivating bassline that says action. I like it already. Tip of the toes kids, the pit is a calling! “You won’t see me. I’ll see you”, is what it sounds like he said. And that’s what I’m thinking jumping in that pit. The song is quick; in and out in just over a minute. I do hope the final cut gives us a bit more of this gem.

Moving on. Second track “So Far Away” finds Dave on the vocals with trail-offs at the ends of vocal bars leaving listeners with an almost melodic presence; almost. I like his style. It’s cool to scream your ass off. And maybe it’s the Southerner in me, but when the grit is mixed with a bit of butter, I like that. A quick two-and-a-half-minute track that, at a minute and twenty-eight seconds in goes through a change-up. And this change-up slowly builds in pace until they plop the original rhythm back in our laps. This is good stuff people! It’s like they’re milking the anxiety cow’s teats for all their worth. I’m spewing adrenaline.

Next up is the title track “What a Waste”. And apparently some guy works every day and has either pissed off Dave, or Dave is telling us the over-worked guy is pissed. Whatever the case may be, the guitar gets a little funky in this one. I mean its punk, but with a little snazzle-razzle on it. Ok it’s just a sharp note followed consecutively by the two flat notes beneath it. But I like the way Joe twangs his thang.

“Huffing Glue” is almost as short as the first track at only a minute thirty-seven and the final track on this demo. I think my laptop was huffing glue because it kept pausing, or buffering, whatever that means. Anyway, good ole Billy on drums counts us in and we blast off into a four-note mainstay broken up by a couple high notes that signify the chorus is here.

All in all, they’re quick, they’re tight, and pay them their respect. This is a middle finger to your day, to my day; something to spruce up your morning coffee. And I needed it because I’m out of creamer and sugar. Whoever said “once you go black, you never go back”….. lied. But to the ex-members of A Hanging, The Pallbearers and AR-15 that gave me this lovely dose of audio intensity, I say thank you. And definitely, definitely follow up on this project with an expansion, both in catalog and song exploration. With that, I will hand over the reigns to Neworleansmusicians.com member and bassist for The Grooxs, Jorge Caicedo.

Jorge: This is the demo debut of What A Waste from New Orleans. Four tunes of straight-ahead punk rock with the Black Flag and Circle Jerk influences coming through nicely. The rhythm section of bassist Bobby Bergeron and drummer Bill Baxley, both of whom were in the excellent A Hanging, keep the bottom end tight while the guitars and vocals do their thing.

The tunes are more of a mid-tempo style as opposed to straight speed, although “Huffing Glue” is the exception. As per punk aesthetics, the songs are short, catchy and to the point. Catch these guys the next time they play a show, it’ll be well worth your time. You can get your cassette or digital download plus more perks using the Bandcamp link below.

Authors: Lingo Starr and Jorge Caicedo

Neworleansmusicians.com

Here’s Bandcamp link: https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwhatawaste504.bandcamp.com%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR1qHDi7-YcdCfHk36bybfH5CQa3x3AWBwmdQQ9bIC9tDl_Bu_RAu1r1mgk&h=AT3hVWNQln-Dn_3JCYOifCvsR-qr-I0n2oxEFM7s6r9pGu7IC2cra16EE_JQncM7l4ALvhV2V9lq4-MCePrwd1GsOXuMUyzcJIBx4YtqGzqOW8WV5-GERHByBSlHIBWu1Z2K-xDATc4vDYnw3WnC

Here’s Spotify link: https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fopen.spotify.com%2Falbum%2F0UsFCf4F2g9NubbriqBCi6%3Fsi%3Dtq3LWXCTRyieg-LvN7xpKA%26fbclid%3DIwAR0ulr3P8Zpwxz3e0zM5vCjDvGVQQZUMG2GIFDTQTqYilO1LV_vc4UrEvLY&h=AT3GFNMrxBPZJKMavFz13Gogfi_MPJkB3xB4qzY-aiNW20ZquVMwLvLDb7vhgfYHn1HkqKDWxmcsohiRlNIXPrgpPhvE40sCnNyHp1Z89hOcDqFZmYaHYR4RIhf_HvZTFcHxLxtyU8RkTyb3Qh4J&__tn__=H-R&c[0]=AT35_ULSKWdmLksrhwlj-VeIyQLsFNDME4LwNQVj3sIhCV2SvotBqP0iseJg0iyn2biCPcMp6pigdPTYmxqNLzQfoyWS0-8eTBmgJbozLrtkn7yrkyTZMac2RUo8dQ5hxDdxbwDcDlUAr2q6xOlfXXRxoQb8eR13uyhN4YChBpAAupZ90RsN5tI96nQezCUFnleQQy1vikbj

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Ben Redwine

When a mild-mannered musician quietly sits before you, it may sometimes be difficult to discern between him and the musician right beside him. Especially being that true musicians rely on authentic expression to leave an impression with an audience. And the irony here is that not only is Dr. Ben Redwine’s body of work inceptive, but he, himself is the epitome of discernment. Throughout his career, he has made a name for himself telling the difference between seemingly similar things and making intelligent judgements by using such observations. The dissection of genres, from European classical to ragtime jazz, and the influx of Latin interpretations may seem to meld together for the layperson. But for Ben, a student of all of these things, the practice of first breaking down elements to understand their components and origins, then rebuilding an original composition using his own vision is what enables him to enlightened us all. The sum of these parts can sometimes feel clumsy or unpalatable if not assembled correctly. But when composed precisely, spectators can walk away downright jolly. And for students of the art that wished to delve deeper, he shared of himself this knowledge instructing on a collegiate level for six years.

Peeling back the layers of Dr. Redwine brings us all the way to Del City, Oklahoma. Where, as a child, Ben would see students file in and out of his grandfather’s studio in the backyard. Both his grandfather and grandmother were professional orchestral musicians; his grandfather being the premier woodwind instructor in the Oklahoma City area. At the age of six, an anxious Ben was finally given the right of passage. From then on, you would find him at paw-paw’s house every Wednesday for dinner and a lesson. For Ben, the regimen would continue for the next thirteen years and exist strictly in the vein of classical compositions. Once in high school, Ben played in the school band. Wanting to explore alternate forms of the art, he also formed his own traditional jazz band. And although it wasn’t his grandfather’s chosen genre, he supported Ben’s exploratory nature, even buying him a book on Dixieland jazz. This was both an unconventional path and new territory for him being that memories of music being played in his household were few. At his grand parents’ house, classical music was played and read from sheet music to perform. The first jazz players did not follow the route Ben was taking; many of them did not read sheet music. Still, Ben feels his path prepared him for these next steps. “So, speaking from my perspective being classically trained, I always strive to get a great clarinet sound when I play. And my technique is, you know, fundamentally sound because I’ve put a lot of time in the practice room. Yeah. And then you, you veer off into jazz and those elements transfer over.” The foundation had become a launch pad for new ideas. For many musicians, exploring a new sound is an overall exciting experience. And for those that previously trek within the confines of traditional genres and music theory, improvisation can be like a second birth. Aside from the technical aspect, within the undertaking lies further finding and expressing one’s self, and strengthening the mind-audio connection in an instant. The affinity for spontaneity never left him as, during his educational and military pursuits, his probe into non-traditional forms would remain throughout the years.

From there he would study at the University of Oklahoma, earning his bachelor’s degree in music education. Ordinarily, the course of action from here would either be to teach or perform. At the time, orchestras were folding and often unreliable as a career. And Ben could read the writing on the wall. Though he would attend LSU earning a master’s degree in clarinet performance directly following his time at the University of Oklahoma, he decided to enter the United States Military music program, playing in the Army band for four years. In year three, he auditioned and won a job with the Naval Academy band in Annapolis, Maryland. Now this was a notable fork in direction. Because switching from one branch of military service to another is very uncommon. He would have to put himself through boot camp for a second time. Never the less, he succeeded, playing there for sixteen years until he retired in 2014. Also to note, towards the end of his Navy career, Ben took advantage of educational benefits and earned his doctorate in Washington, D.C. at Catholic University of America. While taking courses there, he served as Assistant Professor teaching music education. He also taught clarinet privately, and directed the university wind ensemble. Looking back on his decisions in life, I’d say Ben has always addressed life within the parameters of utility and foresight, even at the expense of traversing a path less travelled. He told me a story once about how he purchased CDs one by one, until he had a collection of twenty, all before owning a CD player. The pursuit of his passions was never dictated by what was readily available to him. And his decision to join the military was in-part a solution to retain benefits while also choosing performance over teaching. Though his move to audition for a separate military branch was both uncommon and physically taxing, it preserved his place in the performing arts. And those military benefits enabled him to earn a doctoral degree. 

After retiring from the Navy in 2014, Ben continued teaching at Catholic University and playing gigs in the area. With family in Baton Rouge, he would frequently come down to Louisiana with his wife, Leslie. Eventually, it made sense to move to Louisiana and settle close enough to New Orleans to play gigs. And that’s not all he would go on to do. He performed with the Louisiana Philharmonic and Baton Rouge Symphony Orchestras. He was also featured at the historic Dew Drop Jazz and Social Hall, and at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival. And he taught at Southern University and A&M College. Drawing from his minor in Latin-American music history, and his time playing on several continents throughout the course of his career, Ben has set his sights on an exciting new endeavor. A composer is writing a concerto for Ben to perform live. He envisions the performances set on stages here, as well as abroad. His time spent as an instructor will come into play, as he plans to give a spoken presentation on the history of jazz preceding the performance. And he hopes to be able to include several free performances for local schools within proximity to his performance dates. He is currently coordinating with a Louisiana non-profit to enable tax deductible crowd-funding. Anyone interested in donating resources to Ben’s concerto can contact him directly via his website, redwinejazz.com. You can also view his current performance schedule there and catch a show. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with Ben. And I can’t close things out without mentioning how gracious he’s been, sending contacts and prospective clients my way. His knowledge is vast. His talent is enormous. And his contributions to the music world are immeasurable.

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Fuel the Funeral Entertainment

In Louisiana, thirty-seven miles from the Gulf of Mexico, lies the town of Cut Off, the place where Hunter Bruce was born and raised. At that time (and still to this day), it was the type of place with nothing to do. You could find Hunter with friends hanging out in the parking lots of Sonic or Wal-mart. And the music scene… well it didn’t exist there. Experience with music for him at that time was whatever played on the radio. Streaming could only be found on Pandora and music in his household wasn’t a focal point. It wasn’t until Hunter graduated high school and moved away that he got to actually see live music. His first experience was on a grand scale and it would change his life forever.

On June 27th, 2016 the Warped Tour made its stop in New Orleans. And Hunter was one of the thousands in attendance. With most of his friends off to the military, he went to this event alone, and would spend most of that day at the smaller Full Sail University Stage. He affectionately recalls, “I saw Bad Seed Rising, incredible. I wish they would’ve never broken up. I saw Palaye Royal. No one knew who these guys were. There was like twenty people standing in front of that stage with me. Now these guys are touring the world and that’s so awesome to see.” He was later spotted and stopped by the guitarist for Palaye Royal, who signed and gave him a CD, thanking him for coming to their performance. He still has that CD to this day. And he’s kept a record of all the bands he’s seen over the years. Later that same year Islander, whom he was unfamiliar with, would headline at The Varsity Theater in Baton Rouge. He remembered Bad Seed Rising from the Warped Tour, and they were on the bill along with local supporting band Ventruss. That night, he became a fan of Ventruss and would see them countless times in the future. “The guys from Ventruss came, ‘aw dude thank you so much for being here’, you know, shook my hand. ‘Oh man we really appreciate it.’ And whenever that kind of stuff happens, you start realizing; man, this is really a tight knit community. You know, it feels genuine. They’re not just trying to sell me a CD or something. They actually appreciate you being here. That’s a really cool feeling.”

I can’t help but draw attention to the idea that, just like Hunter came away with a good feeling from his interaction with the band, the bands exist in that moment on stage drawing their feeling from the crowd. When the energy and excitement is projected from those in attendance, they witness a better performance. For many, these shows also become a new source of friendships. Regular attendees recognize one another from previous shows and began to strike up conversations among one another. And speaking from personal experience, I can say that a band grows in their appeal once you have some sort of personal vestment in them. Gaining friends with mutual interests, meeting members of the band that just blew you away on stage, and perhaps coming away from a show with a memento of some sort all make people feel connected and a part of something greater and more relative. These experiences also help to quell the overwhelming nature of today’s uber-convenient paths to new music. We have the world at our fingertips when it comes to new music. But there’s just so many options that make all too easy to get lost. Indie bands in Louisiana, for instance, often times get drowned out by all the other music with which they have to contend globally. Neworleansmusicians.com has focused on the niche of Louisiana bands, in part, for that reason. Bands who join our site intermingle pools of fans, helping to lift one another up. Likewise, when a booking agent does their job well, you can show up because you recognize one of the bands on the bill, and walk away gaining interest in new ones. In his present-day capacity as an entertainment company owner, Hunter recognizes and has been able to lend his services to bands in the Gulf Coast region, an area that he paused to recognize in this interview as rich with new talent. This is a pleasant surprise, given the havoc that Covid wreaked on the live music community as a whole.

“There was a lot of bands that broke up, which is unfortunate. There’s a lot of bands that took that time and said, well we can’t perform right now. But we can write. We can go to the studio. We can record. We can really spend this time honing our craft and come out swinging. And I think once the lockdown stopped and people came back, you could really see who spent those two years just kind of sitting around waiting, and who spent those two years still diligently trying to hone their craft.” As anyone can tell by now, Hunter remained an attentive understudy of the local music scene throughout. From his break out from Cut Off, to a stint in Houma, to finally settling in Folsom, Louisiana, that list of bands he’d seen grew to over 300. And all of these places were and still are rather obscure when it comes to hotbeds of music activity. He was constantly driving out to see these bands play. So, when a new venue, the Hideaway Den & Arcade opened up near him in Folsom, he was elated to attend their first rock show. Pious, Thornprick, and Dead Machine Theory were on the bill. The venue was pleased with the turnout and Hunter, well he saw opportunity. He approached the owner about booking another rock show and they accepted. On the bill was Acala from Covington, 4Mag Nitrous out of Baton Rouge, and Dead Savage from Hammond. The three fit well and, barring the fact that he accidently booked it on his wedding anniversary, the show was a success. “From that show, we’ve expanded so much. We built out the stage. We brought in an in-house sound tech with a full sound rig. They’re looking to do more and more. Whenever they first opened up, they were like man, we want to be the Southport Hall of the north shore in the sense that we want to offer a wide array of entertainment.” In the past, many places in the north shore area have been accustomed to the safety of cover bands. Every so often a local act performs. But Hunter hopes to see more original talent performing in the area. And he hopes The Hideaway, where he has become the main talent buyer, sets the standard. His intention is to strategically mix local bands with regional, national, more widely recognized names. Shortly after approaching and booking his first show at The Hideaway, Hunter approached about twenty venues between Slidell and Hammond with the interest of booking shows. “I went to these places. You know, here’s my business card. I understand you don’t know me from Adam. But, you know, give me a chance. Let’s see what we can do. Everywhere turned their nose at me; slammed the door in my face. They didn’t want to work with me. I get it, you know. You don’t know who I am and a lot of these places, they have their in-house people already. But after that, I’m like alright I guess I’m all in on this place (The Hideaway). And I’ve been all in with them ever since. And I don’t regret it man, I never looked back. And I think now if one of these places that originally turned their nose to me came back and said, oh man we’ve been seeing what you’re doing for this place, maybe we can do something, I’d probably tell them no. They take really good care of me here. I’m all in over here.”

Reflecting on his start, Hunter couldn’t remember the last time he did something that brought him so much joy. From booking the bands, to doing the fliers, to the online promotion, he fell in love. He became a true believer in the old adage “Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life.” So, unbeknownst to most, during his days booking, he spent four months registering, recruiting, and building his own roster. By its proper name, Fuel the Funeral Entertainment is now a booking agency with a list of developmental and promotional services, some of which include EPK one sheets, public relations, advertising, and website creation. Through dedication and diligence, Hunter hopes to bring to these bands what they have brought to him, loyalty. “There’s a lot of nights where you’re working until two or three in the morning.  behind the computer making sure that it’s done the right way. I don’t want to approach these bands and say hey, let me give you booking representation if I don’t know what I’m doing, you know? There’re enough thieves out there. I don’t want to be another one of them. And that’s what really lead me to starting this venture.” Before he began the process of forming this LLC, before he even had the idea, he was hired by an up-and-coming artist management firm that wanted to expand into booking. Though initially excited about the opportunity, upon working for the firm he began to notice business practices that he would only describe as a little less than reputable. “We’re taking these bands’ money and we’re not doing much for them. How are we justifying this? I just took a big step back and I’m like, I don’t want to do this. This feels wrong.” And just as one experience inspired him to book for The Hideaway, his experience with this company prompted him to forge his own path.

Since its inception, Fuel the Funeral Entertainment has been focused on transparency. The contracts come with personal advice from Hunter himself advising recipients to bring the documents to an entertainment lawyer. And I wouldn’t be surprised if honesty is the best bait out there these days. He’s been in discussions with bands that he’s had to turn away. Though he has confidence in his future ability to become more adept at the art, if what they’re seeking is outside of his level of current experience, he’s not above informing them. During our discussion, he stressed the importance of knowing one’s limitations and not embellishing upon them. This, coupled with his humility and true appreciation for what bands bring left a lasting impression that tells me his candor in business will take him far. You can view their list of services and submit works for review on the contact form at Fuelthefuneralentertainment.com.  

Author: David Trahan

Neworleansmusicians.com

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Music Journalist Search

Top o’ the morning to the powers that be, as well as the common folk. I, Lingo Starr, have been tasked with finding an “additional” journalist for Neworleansmusicians.com. And I use quotes because, as I am told, this is not my replacement. “Lingo, we’re not looking to replace you. We just think that David (the owner) is writing more articles than need be at the moment. And we think you could use a hand with expediting finished works.” This, as per second in command. So, without further ado, and in good faith, the facts are as follows. Neworleansmusicians.com is searching for a journalist interested in covering the music scene in Louisiana. Specifically, we need someone to both draw from material we give you, as well as from your own findings (research, interactions, and otherwise). If you would like to establish a catalog of published works and get involved with a website that supports Louisiana musicians, contact me at lingo_starr@yahoo.com. I’m going to go through applicants myself. Please send example(s) of your work, and feel free to include any questions. We do perform within deadlines here, so expect that. We do not, however, (thank God) report to an office, so that’s a perk. You can check out examples of NOM’s subject matter here https://neworleansmusicians.com/blog/. I look forward to hearing from, and working with, all of you!

Author: Lingo Starr

Neworleansmusicians.com

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Matt Rhombus of Totem

For Matt, the Big Bang occurred at the age of eight when he encountered a family member’s extensive music collection. From this single point in time, his melodic universe began with cosmic bodies like Korn, System of a Down, Slipknot, Weezer, and Alice in Chains. Ever expanding, his exploration has landed him in a galaxy filled with sludge, punk, and rock-and-roll. Bass-heavy grooves have charted his path on this journey and, over time, have become the dominant, more prevalent point of recognition for his vessel of worship known as Totem. While music itself was always at the core of his attraction, camaraderie surely enhanced his gravitation. Like many of us that play, we are inexplicably drawn to an instrument at an early age. And suddenly, the arduous task of finding ourselves as human beings is compounded with finding a sense of musical identity. For those of you that don’t play an instrument, I would liken finding one’s musical identity to getting your first apartment. You don’t have much to do it with. Still, you gather everything you have that you think you will need, and some of what expresses who you are, to establish yourself in this “new” life. Only you’re not sure exactly where you want to live, what you want it to look like, or what you can afford. I have always admired true musicians because not only do they face this head-on at a time in life when they are still unsure of themselves. But they do it out in the open, in front of everyone. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the court of public opinion can be bitter.

Unbeknownst to Matt, he was mentally preparing himself for this quest just two years after honestly encountering music for the first time. He found himself doodling band names on his binders while in class. And at thirteen, to some degree, it had manifested itself physically. His hair was spiked and his jeans had chains hanging from them. Soon his friends would be discussing the idea of starting their own band. He knew several guitar players and a drummer. So, he settled upon bass as his contribution to the endeavor. “I think it was like, a Crescent or something. I remember cracking that thing open on Christmas Eve. And it was just a little beginner bass. But man, I wore that thing out.” At that time, Matt knew the cost of a bass guitar. While he gave it a shot, he was almost sure he wouldn’t be lucky enough to get one. But in due time, he would come to know the value. And while he did dabble in rhythm guitar and drums over the years, he always stuck by his bass. Looking back, he affirms the experimentations became useful tools within his narrative. Because of them, if need be, he can pick up or sit behind either and play.

“Getting better at bass… I think that I actually haven’t progressed, like technically speaking, at playing bass. Like, I don’t think I’m an amazing bass player by any means. But I use the bass as kind of a tool to help me write songs. That’s been the struggle of my past ten years, trying to find my place in the New Orleans music scene in general. Being in one band, being in another band, I’ve decided that I’m not going to put my talent up to somebody else anymore. I’m going to spearhead everything. And that’s why our band right now, Totem, is very bass-heavy and very bass-driven.” Modesty would definitely be Matt’s namesake. And his tendency to cite things like tremolos from Steve Harris and other technical players in the field has perhaps contributed to this mental conflict within him. But his niche and true appreciation for the craft lies within getting into a groove and holding things down to propel the song. Pitting one musician’s take on things against another is misleading. But inside the minds of many musicians, this is sometimes an eternal conflict. Doubting one’s self is by its very nature, misleading. And there came a point in time where this combined with being kicked out of a band had Matt stuffing his gear into a closet and shutting the door. He credits his long-time friend and drummer, Gage Breaux, with forcing him to leave the questions behind and return to the things he loved about the art. Their bond and Matt’s second coming further cemented Totem in the rhythmic, bass-lavish landscape that has become their signature sound.

Sparking an alternate creative direction in Totem with a new guitarist, Max Bonnet, has aided Matt in dusting off the difficulties within him. And intentionally not sticking to one particular genre keeps things fresh. As he pointed out, Boris, The Melvins, and Neurosis have always been bands that inspired him in this vein. Max brings with him a penchant for the shoegaze genre. Which should bring about a balancing effect when paired with Totem’s already established driving bass and drum elements. “Max is like refined energy. And he knows how to put the right dynamics on certain strums and he has more technique. He’s got something going on with him. He’s got this shoegaze background. I don’t know, he was obsessed with shoegaze for a while. He’s got some pretty shit that is really going to help us open up a new door to the psyche-rock domain.” In the past, Totem has been a trio where the bass basically commandeered the responsibility normally taken up by the rhythm guitar; keeping pace in the groove and moving things along a plane. Their drummer, Gage, would reinforce this, adding highlights and directing the change-ups. In the future, much of that will remain the same. But this recent addition will accentuate those priorities while also pulling the direction into question. Totem’s recent EP, For What It’s Worth, can be found on Spotify, Apple Music, and Bandcamp. And it will come to be a pivotal sonic example from the band. Because moving forward, a unique dimension via Max Bonnet will emerge. The newly minted trio is in the midst of writing several songs to add to their EP in preparation for their upcoming album. And in true Totem spirit, it will be exploratory, possessing artifacts of both prior artistic endeavors and future direction.

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2022 Year in Review

With 2022 coming to a close, I figured it would be in good practice to reflect publicly how this first year has gone. I think it’s important that everyone consider doing this in their own lives. Taking inventory is a good step toward accountability and establishing goals. So, for the record, and in an effort to bolster transparency, here it goes…

2022 essentially began life for Neworleansmusicians.com, a website that networks and promotes Louisiana musicians for free. I launched publicly and began efforts to onboard Louisiana musicians. The number of possibilities seemed to mushroom exponentially in my mind. This is an exciting phase in the process of any new endeavor. Pure fantasy, where are all your hopes and dreams still reside protected in a bubble. And in that spirit, I was heavy on expanding features for users. I wanted to serve our independent musicians in as many ways as possible. It is within my nature to multi-task (a.k.a. ADHD). So, while site testing and refinement continued, I began interviewing musicians. I taught myself filming and editing basics, and on February 25th our Youtube Channel was born, with our first interview video being published. I also made things to where, when a member posts a video on my site’s video page, it automatically posts to this Youtube Channel. I also started a blog and published its first article on that same day, and linked the blog to our site menu. Two weeks later, I opened a donation page at buymeacoffee.com/neworleansmusic. And two weeks after that I started Neworleansmusicians.com Podcast, publishing NOM’s first podcast episode. For the next two months, I would teach myself where to source merchandise, how to build an e-commerce website, and how to create designs for apparel. In May of 2022, the e-commerce store was launched, eventually housing 112 pieces of clothing, all with original designs. This, too, would be linked in the site menu. Oh, and I created accounts on 12 music streaming platforms with 16 playlists named after genres. I began adding music from members to those playlists. All of these things required getting the word out. So, I taught myself how to create and publish advertisements in bulk.

In the background, my current programmer seemed to be lagging. Having “personal issues” to deal with meant he would be MIA for weeks at a time. And as with any new website, it had its fair share of bugs. So, I began the search for a new programmer. At any rate, between the old one and the new one, I believe I overwhelmed my programmers with so much expansion and inadvertently sacrificed functionality at some point. Technical errors begin to pop up. While I scrambled to get a hold on things site-wide, I was forced to take a look at what my life had become. Whether or not I would be able to keep pace with the demands of a podcast, a Youtube Channel, a blog, 16 Curated playlists on 12 platforms, and a networking website by myself remained to be seen. But media was the one thing in all of this that I could control. It was the one thing I could do myself. So, I felt I had no choice but to meet the demands placed upon myself. This, I decided would consist of a Youtube video every week, an article every two weeks, and a podcast every two weeks.

Halfway through the year I read The Lean Startup by Eric Reis. It explained that the best strategy to starting a business is to create a “minimum viable product”. It was then that I realized I was going about this all wrong. I had created too much too fast. But to withdraw in any form, even in-part, what existed, would in my eyes concede defeat. What already existed needed to remain and be improved upon. Shortly after the arrival of a new programmer, I halted all expansions and began to concentrate on one thing, “flawless operation”. I am still very much involved in this task.

Despite the exorbitant costs associated with NOM, I have adhered to forgoing financial opportunities here and there with the interest of putting the artist first. Instead of selling advertising slots on the Neworleansmusicians.com Podcast, I chose to recognize members of my site, one per episode, playing portions of their work and drawing from a questionnaire I sent to them. I also made graphics and included members on our Youtube videos. I avoided pitches for profit from influencer mills because I felt it muddled the integrity of the site’s purpose. And I resisted the idea of putting the whole site up for sale because I couldn’t let go of the vision; becoming THE resource for independent bands in Louisiana, for free. While preparing to write this piece, I had planned to go tally up all that I have spent creating this website and its tributaries; programming, paying for ads and promotional material, financing subscriptions to necessary services for transcription, editing, etc. But I honestly think I don’t even want to know that number. I can tell you that at this point, it has topped 20K. And this is money spent in order to DIY, because the typical corporate route is financially unattainable for a man raising a family. There are times when I feel as though I am becoming the Howard Hughes of Louisiana’s indie music scene. Whereby the pursuit of this vision is slowly consuming both me and my every resource. Yet seeing these parallels does not dissuade me from the quest. I must take a moment here to recognize something of the utmost importance. It is the way I feel. It’s the sense of accomplishment when I publish that video or that podcast. It’s the sense of camaraderie and the connection I feel with each and every one of my interview subjects. It’s the idea that these people deserve more attention than they are commonly given and that I want to be the one to depict them as human beings, not just juke boxes. And if all else were to fail, in the end, I feel as though the body of work in its wake will have accomplished that.

I also wanted to go dig up all the statistics associated with NOM in preparation for this article. But I feared that bogging one down with charts and graphs would steal light from the overall direction. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from obsessing over things of this sort, it’s this:  in order to get something of meaning from your endeavor, you must put in something of meaning. My time, my energy, my hopes and my vision make up the tokens in this pot. There aren’t statistics out there that narrate this. As for the traffic to the site, to the Facebook Page, and to the store, I learned that throwing money at it conflates numbers, and honest fans will come as long as what you produce is from the heart. But to quantify things, traffic at times has seen over 800 new visitors a month. Although stifled by technical difficulties in the registration process, I was still able to onboard 67 bands and music industry professionals this year. The podcast, launched at the end of March, has cataloged 15 episodes, garnering 750 downloads in 22 countries. The Youtube Channel, started February 25th, has received 1.7K views resulting in 86 hours of watch time and 47 new subscribers. And our Facebook page grew by 431 people, and increased in reach by over 47K people. These are modest beginnings in the grand scheme of things. But with enough support from fans, I know these numbers will grow. And not only do they house works that I can say I am proud to have produced. But they have resulted in increased exposure for deserving musicians at no cost to them.  

 Throughout year one, there have been some highlights that truly elated me along the way. Gaining fans like Cyril Neville, Russel Batiste, and Stanton Moore was a nice surprise. Tab Benoit becoming a site member really made me proud. Enjoying a lengthy phone call from Jan Ramsey was also something I really appreciated. And I can’t mention these things without also mentioning how humbled I’ve been by gracious efforts from people like Clarinetist Ben Redwine, friend Ryan McKern, photographer Charles Dye, and metal band members Jay Gracianette and Blake Lowery. Ben became a member and began sending countless references my way, introducing me to so many people in the music industry. Ryan McKern has written for me in the past and recently volunteered to pass out some advertisements to local venues. Charles, though heavily sought after and quite busy with his own, agreed to come with me on an interview, contributing his stunning work to my articles. And both Jay and Blake have essentially taken me in as one of their own, bringing me face to face with Pat Bruders (Down) and Vinnie LaBella (Exhorder).

All of these things leave me feeling fulfilled, even if it is in my nature to never be satisfied. And honestly, I believe that as long as I continue to put forth an all-out effort to display Louisiana’s music scene and the people that comprise it, recompense will come. Subscription numbers to the podcast and the Youtube channel will eventually result in a few bucks back in the pot. And traffic to the site will yield a few more through advertisements. And who knows, I may one day get a donation from someone to the buymeacoffee page. I have enjoyed creating merchandise designs and, as the word gets out, this site as a brand could become a popular fashion. One thing is for certain… I never want to charge a musician for anything, ever. In my eyes, the talent is the draw. And I would never do anything to take away from that. If you have read this to the end, I truly thank you from the bottom of my heart. Of course, I hope that you check out one of the links within these lines. But above all else, I hope that you support the musicians of Louisiana. Streams, show tickets, album and merch purchases, even likes and follows on social media mean the world to these people. Let’s do all that we possibly can as a community to keep them in our world.

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Decades in Music

For many of us, we can recall where we were when we first heard the sound on the radio. For some of us, we can’t help but smile when we think about how we wore out that first record or cassette. But in the minds and hearts of any fan, one thing was for certain. When we heard rap music for the first time, we knew right then and there nothing would ever be the same again. It wasn’t that it was just distinctive or rare. It was the only sound of its kind… on earth. In time, it would become clear that this wasn’t just a passing fad. And contrary to opposition from taste-makers of the era, its gravitational pull would birth a place of permanence in the world of music.

The year was 1973, and at just seven years of age, Darnell Cotton had caught the bug. In his hometown of Newburgh in upstate New York, a vibration was in the air. At the reigns were people like the D.O.C. & Company, DJ Kid Legend, Charlie Rock, and Eddie On. And in the street was the only place it could be found. Rapper’s Delight, commonly thought of as the first rap song, wouldn’t traverse airwaves for another six years. But on highways in the back seat of a car, rap music would migrate out from Brooklyn to places like parties at Mount St. Mary’s College in Darnell’s hometown. Ambassadors of the new sound would arrive with milkcrates full of vinyl to recruit new disciples. And at seven years old, by way of friends or family, Darnell would find a way in. Captivated, he could see himself on that stage, performing for the crowd. Back at home, with his parents and four siblings, the aural landscape was completely different. Major Harris, Gladys Knight, Earth, Wind, and Fire, The O-Jay’s, Luther Vandross, Teddy Pendergrass, Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes, and The Stylistics projected from those speakers. Darnell had a deep appreciation for this music as well. With one genre sometimes fueling building blocks for the other, in his mind the two styles would go hand-in-hand.

In 1978, his family moved to Baton Rouge, Louisiana. And to put this time into perspective relative to the genre, the first rap song ever produced publicly didn’t even exist at this point. The following year would see the Fatback Band’s King Tim III (Personality Jock), the first rap song ever, pressed to a vinyl B-side. And even then, it was filed under disco and funk and cited on the charts as R&B. Being a time before the internet, his new surroundings were all but untouched by the influences of his old neighborhood. Without the support of radio, the progression of rap music swept across the states by way of people like Darnell. He had been there at ground zero. His mind and his mix tapes were the proof. At this point in time, the people in his new hometown were unaware. He recalled one evening at Leo’s Rollerland on Airway Drive in Baton Rouge, “As a matter of fact, when we came here my brother and them lied to the people and said we were the Sugar Hill Gang and was rapping their song. And when it came out (on the radio), they really believed it!” Over the next four to five years, like the landscape of music itself, Darnell’s life would see many changes. The older brothers he often hung with wouldn’t be around and he would stand on his own.

In 1981, at fifteen years old, Darnell credits himself with throwing the first Baton Rouge DJ party open to the public. He set up shop at a pizza place on Airline Hwy and invited kids his age to come hear him spin records from artists like Afrika Bambaataa, Planet Rock, and Nucleus. Around this time, Darnell befriended a local radio station personality that went by the name DJ Jazzmore. Jazzmore lived near Darnell, and the two would spend hours in a music room dedicated to turntables and vinyl. When the radio station opted for a change of format in ‘82, Darnell befriended his replacement, DJ Iceman. Iceman shared Darnell’s interest in rap music and would often DJ at events spinning it. Although the craft had yet to bless radio in Baton Rouge, Darnell could watch him cut and scratch live to the reaction of the crowd at Images, a club where Iceman was the resident. And with Darnell visiting New York every summer and returning home with new, unheard-of mixtapes and vinyl, Iceman would be introduced to the latest from rap’s birthplace and recordings of the radio station WBLS w Mr. Magic and Marley Marl. The exposure aided Iceman in his career both on stage and on the radio. In-kind, Iceman would put Darnell on the mic during his nightly mixes. Darnell also wrote a rap song titled The Fresh Mix, which Iceman put in rotation on the radio. This inspired Darnell to produce his own record and go on tour with DJ Iceman in 1983 MCing, beat-boxing, and rapping. Once again, he found himself furthering this migration of rap music. And to put this moment in time into perspective, 1983 would be the year Doug E. Fresh, the founding father of beat-boxing, made his debut in the single Pass the Boo Dah.

1983 was also the year Darnell really started getting into break dancing in talent shows and at basketball competitions. He and his partner were able to book shows that year on the merit of their competitive success. Constantly networking and gaining momentum, Darnell then formed Reality, a group reminiscent of the Fat Boys, at the turn of the year. He would go on to enter his group into the City-Wide Talent Show and win. With victory came a tour, performing at every City-Wide Talent Show at schools and on college campuses across the nation. Recalling a show at Southern University’s Union Hall, Darnell remembers, “Everybody who was somebody at that time, who got record deals or whatever coming up out of here eventually, later on, was in that talent show. And they saved us for last. And when I tell you, when we came out there them people went crazy man. When we got through, the crowd just erupted, everybody stood up.” Reality performed Missing Kids, a song they wrote inspired by a recent child abduction epidemic, to a packed house. And when I say packed, the fire marshal came on-site to prevent any more people from entering the building. Because of their success in this talent show, Darnell was able to get a record deal through Royal Shield Records. His group also appeared on CNN, courtesy of Joann Courrier, founder of Child Keeper’s Foundation. And the governor presented Reality with a plaque for their creative efforts within the social epidemic. Reality did Public Service Announcements and scored #1 slots on radio stations across the nation. But behind the scenes, trouble was brewing. Record companies wanted to sign Reality. But they were under contract at Royal Shield. The children’s foundation wanted to press the record and adopt it as their anthem. All were turned down. And on the heels of a scandal involving missing funds at the record company, their song was pulled by execs at Royal Shield. Darnell had been through extreme highs until this point. And now, at just nineteen years old, he had hit the low. “I guess it really didn’t affect me like that because I was who I was and I’m going to still keep doing what I do. Okay, this ain’t happening no more. It was good while it lasted. But I went on tour with some of the biggest stars…” Even though the record company would go on to fold, Darnell was speaking on the fact that Reality went on a six-month tour with Roger Troutman and Zapp, Ready for the World, Lisa Lisa Cult Jam, and the L.A. Dream Team. Following the tour, further problems within the group concerning management would see its dissolution.

Though he started at such a young age and had been through so much, Darnell has very few regrets. He cited times here and there, where looking back he sees how he may have been stubborn or perhaps leading with his ego. But all-in-all, his misses were logged as lessons learned and taken in stride. Royal Shield may have been the first company to engage in shady business practices against him. But for Darnell, it wouldn’t be the last. Despite underhanded efforts on the parts of several companies… unreported earnings, biased contracts, copyright infringement… Darnell persevered through it all. And no matter what happened, he could always see the darker alternatives just around the corner. But the choices and decisions he made in his life kept him out of trouble and nurtured his passion. He has since started his own record label, 360. He has enjoyed airtime with his work in the Vibe Tribe, a live instrumental group incorporating rapping and signing. He also scored radio play with his gospel track Everyone Finds Their Way Home. And he worked with Mystical on his first solo album following his time with No-Limit Records. He has several albums to his credit, with his latest being Show You How to Love. Darnell was also recently featured in a documentary covering the origins of rap music in Baton Rouge, Diamonds in the Dirt. Time and time again, though life has taken from him, it has validated him. He’s never had to wonder if his talent was good enough because the world has spoken. His passion for the art has not waned. To the contrary, he has begun a new chapter with Grynd Time Entertainment, his newest venture. Currently taking on producers, engineers, and talent, he is seeking to expand his presence in the world of music. To hear specifics on his future endeavors, as well as more stories from his past, check out our podcast interview under his name. A video series will be published on him in January ’23 on our Youtube channel as well.

FB: Darnell Cotton

IG: cottondarnell and darnell.cotton

YT: MrCotton and 100%Cotton

Show You How to Love:
distrokid.com/hyperfollow/mistercotton1/show-you-how-to-love-feat-adlib-2

Diamonds in the Dirt: