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Petty Betty

With family roots in both Ecuador and Sicily, Petty Betty front woman Erica Calle was born into a vibrant, culturally diverse family in New Orleans East. To hear her describe it, this was not an atmosphere for the meek. “The only way you get heard at the dinner table… who talks the loudest is who gets heard. So, I’ve never been told I’m a quiet person. And I don’t think I ever will. I just found a way to turn that into a positive.” Music never really held a dominant presence in the household. And although natural heritage was held close on both sides of the family, focus was concentrated on assimilation into American culture. As a result, she recalls her mother having an affinity for vinyl with no distinctive musical genre. And her father being somewhat of a fan of smooth jazz. In lieu of concerts or music festivals, the pair would often opt for more peaceful outdoor experiences such as rock climbing and camping.

After a short stint in Texas, her parents came back to settle in Denham Springs. And though Erica had grown fond of singing, she just didn’t have the knack for it. “I remember being in sixth grade and I went to St. John Vianney in Baton Rouge, a small Catholic school. I remember getting up and signing Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree in front of my class. It was terrible. The kids laughed.” What one might think would have a negative impact on a young Erica, didn’t. She would tell you that she was (and is) more stubborn than talented. But her love for performing grossly overstated the reaction she observed from the crowd. And she would do it again and again. It wasn’t until she was about twelve years old that some things started to fall into place. She was in her room singing and her mother mistook her for the radio. But what both had not taken into account was that, through maturation, her voice had dropped. It was at that moment that her mother really took interest in nurturing what would blossom into a wonderful talent. The notion was sealed with procurement of a voice coach and lessons.

Erica had come into the situation loving pop songs and expressed interest in singing one for her first recital. But her voice coach would insist she take on a more soulful approach, while trying to cater to a deeper tone. And this felt right.

Later on in life, Erica would study through vocal coaches at LSU. And once again she found herself singing in less habitable, higher tones. She recalls this as being exhausting. While she realized that one of her goals should be to provide for a wide vocal range, singing soprano did not feel natural to her. This was compounded by the fact that singing in a deeper tone physically came from a different part of her body. Not to mention singing soulful music came from her heart. “You don’t understand the why’s that you feel that way until you’re older. There’s a difference in singing rehearsed music and singing from your soul. And that’s something you learn about yourself as you go. So, I think what’s really cool about music, about the arts is that you’re really… not so much you’re learning a talent, you’re learning and discovering yourself.” Beginning with an interest in pop music and singing in soprano really took her off course. But luckily, by following her heart, and with a little help from a voice coach, Erica found the way back to herself.

With mental and emotional support from her family as a child, she was able to realize her own vision as a singer. Her father even once driving her all night to Atlanta, Georgia for a competition in The Voice; at which she garnered her spot in the second round. But attempting so much in the midst of a cold landed her with blown vocal chords; a wound that would take years to mend. Even speaking would render her hoarse. So, she buried herself in life away from singing. Depression and weight gain would soon follow. An abusive relationship helped to further suppress the voice of a once boisterous young woman. And a roughly ten-year break from involvement in music resulted. She likened the experience to boiling a frog. These things culminated slowly, but had a lasting effect on her. Some friends approached her one night after karaoke asking if she would be interested in joining their band, and she accepted. It was a way back into a life of singing which was good for her. But she didn’t know how to advocate for herself when it came to what worked for her as an artist. As tensions in the band rose, so did the abusive situation at home. And although she learned a lot while in that band, when the time came as she said, “When I got out, I had to get out”. Her abusive home life was intertwined with her band life. So, when she made the decision to leave the relationship, she also made the decision to leave the band.

Her next foray into singing would be what we all know today as Petty Betty. Hearing things like, “no little sister, what works best for you” made her know for sure she had found the right place. For Erica, learning the ins and outs of musicians and how they work became possible in an atmosphere conducive to growth. And the bunch all became like family. Petty Betty practiced for a solid year before performing live. Since then, they have enjoyed immeasurable success. But to do this, they came out the gate ready to handle not just the gigs themselves, but bookings and networking as well. They began live having gigs booked out for months. The Betty Boop/ Betty Page theme underlying their name had given them a distinctive look. And their embracive style with the crowd had landed them a truly loyal following. Though Covid impacted them as deeply as it did many bands, Erica took the instance as an opportunity to network even harder, committing to livestreams and serving as a go-between to help other bands remain active.

Though some of this was about self-preservation, much of it became about the worth of a community of musicians as a whole. She gained an understanding of her own self-worth, as well as the worth of the musicians around her. And it now can be heard in her speaking about the way venues and musicians currently do business. She walked away from her experience with Covid realizing that a line must be drawn for musicians to uphold, whereby venues understand that a respectable business practice is in order. Like she said, “ I think that working within the music and the venue community, building those relationships helped to understand that value.” Instilling a perspective in people comes over time and through the efforts of not just one. Petty Betty has also sought to add value to what they do by making covers uniquely their own. At their shows you might hear House of the Rising Sun w a soulful nature, or Johnny B Goode w a double bass, or even Gangster’s Paradise and Lenny Kravitz Fly Away mashed together. An active schedule gigging has strained the band’s ability to find a spare moment to work on some originals. But a life, for some time, lived on an emotional roller coaster has Erica at no shortage for material. She has so much written that she can’t wait to work on. You can hear more about the artist on our podcast interview and the video version will be on our Youtube channel soon. In the meantime you can keep up with the band on facebook, including live examples of their work at https://www.facebook.com/PettyBettyLIVE.

Author: David Trahan

For Neworleansmusicians.com

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Classifieds for Musicians

Here’s a quick word about a unique privilege on Neworleansmusicians.com. On our home page at the top is a link to our classifieds section. It is broken into three main categories; For Sale – For Rent – Wanted. The advantages are outlined below. But first, some general info to consider.

  1. Users on NOM must register to list on our Classifieds. We implemented this to weed out bots and vet outsiders just passing through. It is my intention that we all become a close-knit community here. Listings in the Classifieds section are relevant because they were made by someone that is already a part of this site. And this area is policed by admin. So, you won’t have to tolerate trolls or spam.
  2. All listings get the boot after 30 days to ensure that you’re not wasting your time on old postings. So that guitar is probably still for sale. And if that DJ is serious about finding a gig, he/ she will repost, ensuring you’ve found the right person for your next event.
  3. Shopping within our state means your money is going to a local fellow musician. Lets keep “us” a priority in everything we do!

For Sale – On social media, it doesn’t take long to end up under a stack of other sellers. We assure our listings are relevant to the music community and current. Ebay, Facebook, Etsy, Amazon…. Frankly, you’re a drop in a sea of listings. By design, we help avoid this pitfall by restricting our community to Louisiana residents only.

For Rent – You won’t find apartments or spacewalks on here. This is about rehearsal space and other musician needs. Check the listings in the For Rent section of our Classifieds. Perhaps you need some sound and light equipment for your next show. You’ll find listings from individuals and companies. If it’s a company, chances are they have a business profile on our site. Without leaving, you can research them and decide if they are a fit for you.

Wanted – You won’t find your mugshot here. But do send us a copy of that. We glue our own decorations to the milk cartons in the break room. Seriously though, looking for a new gig? Need a replacement for the drummer you just kicked out the band? Would you like to find a DJ for your next event? There’s a wanted section just for these situations.

In closing, I see this area of the site as self-explanatory. But, by Neworleansmusicians.com catering to Louisiana musicians only, it tunes out a lot of the foreign and irrelevant noise found on other sites; the same noise that covers your listing up within seconds. I hope to see your band on our site soon!

You can register and begin using the classifieds with the link below.

https://neworleansmusicians.com/reistration

Author: David Trahan

Neworleansmusicians.com

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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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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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Ole Oddlokken

Born in Lillihammer, Norway, Ole Oddlokken spent his winters as many children did in the area; outdoors, often skiing. During the summer months when the climate had warmed, you could find him participating in the local marching band. Unlike here, the marching bands there were, and still are, not directly affiliated with schools. But many children in Lillihammer volunteered and Ole would do the same. Originally, he took interest in the valve trombone, but this was a popular choice for many of the kids. So, the band leader suggested a saxophone. Sometimes it’s life that steers us in just the right direction. As this sax really resonated with ten-year-old Ole and is still his instrument of choice today. The first two songs he learned would be Frere Jaque and (ironically) When the Saints Go Marching In. Being an extra-curricular activity, a true desire was present amongst children in this program. They gave end of the year recitals and many would often go on to perform in the adult community orchestra. As an adult, Ole followed suit, performing with several orchestras and big bands in town. It was then that he was exposed to jazz music.

While playing in various bands, Ole studied fine art at a college in Olso, a town south of Lillihammer. There he would meet his future wife, Nonny, an exchange student originally from New Orleans, Louisiana. He and Nonny would go onto marry, eventually giving birth to a baby girl. In 1994, when their daughter was a year old, they moved to New Orleans and settled in as a family. His saxophone would rest in its case for the next eleven years, as life for Ole became less about the arts and more about family and a regular job. Hurricane Katrina spurred a desire for inspiration and creation in Ole. And luckily that saxophone survived the storm. Joining a small folk singer/ songwriter band quenched his thirst for the arts. They played shows around town and went on to put out an EP. But during this time, he had been doing photography work and there were concerns about making gigs and so forth. So, after a few years, Ole left the band. But moving forward, that sax wouldn’t see its case as often, as dipping his feet in musical waters was a path that once again reunited Ole with his passion. And, as he said, “from there, the rest is history”. 

This long span of time that encompassed his move and settlement into the U.S. left Ole without any musicality. It also cleansed his palette of the music styles and compositions of his homeland. Starting again in music for him might as well have been starting anew, as his new surroundings brought new roles and atmospheres. He traded sheet music and traditional styles for improvisation. Although this had been new and exciting territory for Ole, a rift would again soon form between him and his calling. Putting down the sax to concentrate on his photography gig once again left a void within him. And after a year he found his way back into music through a Craigslist ad, joining a funk band by the name of Noisewater. The new digs were a fun change of pace; not particularly deep, but a hit in the bar/ venue scene. Local shows at Café Negril on Frenchmen Street, Banks Street Bar, Tipitina’s and others close to home made managing a job, a family, and band performances possible. And by all accounts, the band did well. They were on tv and radio, and even put out an EP. Delving further into expression and farther away from theory, Ole would occasionally get together and play with Will Vance and the Kinfolk, as well as improvisational funk, hip hop band, Breaux Jackson. Ole recalls a crazy night playing with Breaux Jackson at One Eye’d Jacks, where Andy Dick showed up. The night resulted in a viral video you might have seen where Andy Dick got knocked out just outside the venue.

Through a booking contact in Lake Charles, Noisewater had the chance to play a few dates with The Shizz, headed up by classically trained singer Lilly Lewis. As time went on, Noisewater would play fewer and fewer gigs, and Ole would go on to play in Lilly’s following band, The Lilly Lewis Project. Several of Noisewater’s members would do the same. Chad Carlisle would bring contributions on keys, and Will Laird would come in on bass. Although at times a bit funky, the Lilly Lewis Project is something special. Introspective thoughts project outward as she discusses things like losing one’s self, or what freedom means to her. And this was yet another change of pace for Ole. He had long ago left sheet music for exploratory improv and funk. And now, for the past six years, he has been able to contribute to a more soulful mixture in Lilly’s band.

Not that long ago, Ole went back to Norway for a visit with family. Just after his return he was able to play one show with the Lilly Lewis Project at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Foundation stage on Rampart. Then Covid hit, bringing live performances to a halt. But by this time, his love of the craft had cemented itself deep within him. Fortunately, his saxophone would not be relinquished to its case as in previous instances. Oddly enough, this deafening silence handed down to us all became yet another inspiration for him. And as he noted, he feels as though it made him a better sax player, among other things. He reacted by writing his own music and setting up a recording studio in his home office. “The label I worked for, put out this thing (on social media) just to get people to share music and such which was ‘tag five musicians and share a music video of you playing a song.’ So, I was like, ok I’ll join in on that. I had been writing some music so I recorded myself playing that and put that up. I continued writing music and making videos just to have some sort of creative outlet. Next thing you know, I was like, this looks like a full album at this point.” Ole would begin a journey that resulted in his first self-produced and recorded album, The Home Office Sessions.

Following the videos that inspired this, the project began with Ole writing and recording his parts. Once all of the parts were recorded, he began reaching out to former band mates to record their parts and add their style. Brandon Hotard and Hayden Winfried, both from Noisewater, contributed guitar work, as did guitarist and producer Britton Newton. Chad Carlisle, who we mentioned earlier from Noisewater, made contributions on keys. For drums, Ole tapped on Wayde Hymel of the Lilly Lewis Project, as well as Milton Mansfield, and James Clarke. To polish things off, he was able to procure a percussionist and a cellist from New England. Lyricist Da Prophecy came in for some features rapping and Nonny, his wife, did spoken word. Throughout the project, he encouraged the contributors to play what they felt, only occasionally requesting a swell here or a certain texture there.

On our website, neworleansmusicians.com, you will find a delightful new experience for Ole in the form a music video for one of the songs featured on The Home Office Sessions, Master Divider. The night we spoke of earlier where Andy Dick got knocked out at One Eye’d Jacks was when Ole first met lyrical contributor Da Prophecy. The two shared the stage that night, as Da Prophecy sat in on a few Breaux Jackson songs. This time, Da Prophecy contributed lyrics to Master Divider, a beautifully written jazz track with rap lyrics. Ole also made use of a website that generates visual pieces from which an artist can build a music video. The music video link, as well as a link to the video composition website will be included below. Diverging from his time with Noisewater and the bar-scene party hits, he wanted this album to say something. Though he does not doubt that his heritage and musical back ground may have snuck its way into this work, Ole feels as though being Norwegian didn’t really come out in his expressions on this album. In fact, one of the songs that didn’t make it to the album was a Norwegian folk standard. He felt as though it didn’t really fit. And honestly, he finds Norwegian music to be a bit melancholy, straying from the vibe of this album. At times, the guitar work gets a bit heavy in his opinion. As Ole explained, “instead of just being all melancholy and chill, I like the contrast of that guitar on a couple of songs where it gets heavy”. He did mention drawing inspiration from his love for a German label, ECM, whose catalog features euro jazz, classical, and rock albums. He also cited Christian Scott’s post-Katrina work, Anthem, as a source of inspiration.

As a body of work, The Home Office Sessions album spans genres and moods, definitely lending itself to crossover appeal. I believe there’s something in there for everyone. Though mostly an instrumental, the album enjoys lyrical guest appearances from both Da Prophecy and Ole’s wife Nonny. Being created solely as a response to an epidemic lockdown, this album effectively has not seen the light of day; sans the digital arena. Ole hopes to once again call on his musician friends and perform the album live. Exposing the album and getting in-person feedback will bring this project around full-circle. And it’s something we should all look out for. Until then you can find the video for Master Divider at the link below.

Author: David Trahan

neworleansmusicians.com

Master Divider – https://neworleansmusicians.com/video/180

Master Divider used Rotor Videos visual builder

https://rotorvideos.com/

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MJ Dardar

Eleven miles from the head of passes on the Mississippi River, Michael Dardar grew up in the small fishing community of Venice, Louisiana with one older sister always by his side. In his house could be heard a wide variety of sounds, as his mother was a Barbara Striesand and Frank Sanatra fan, while his father loved listening to The Eagles, The Allman Brothers, Boston, and Foghat. His first live musical experiences came from the local church, where his mother was a leader in the church choir. Gazing across such contrasting soundscapes, he would ultimately gravitate toward his father’s tastes. And around fifteen or sixteen years of age, he began to experiment with the idea of writing and making music along with a childhood friend. “You know the Fischer Price microphone things? We would go in there; we’d put these little cassette tapes in there and we’d put the scotch tape on top of them. And we would basically tape songs on a different stereo, whether it would be a Beatles tape or something like that. And we would overdub our own lyrics and melodies on top of the tapes.” Looking back, he laughs at the thought of his father popping in one of his favorite tapes only to find his own voice beaming from the speakers. Years of this would eventually culminate in his first album, Rust, recorded in April on 2021.

From his days of experimenting with recordings of his own, the allure of one day making the transition into live performances seeded deep within him. And it never left. And although he rounded up a talented bunch of musicians to pull off the album, his only experience performing it came as an acoustic set with friend and co-writer, Jerry Martin. The two would eventually translate the work into an all-inclusive performance, implementing more band members and instrumental elements to his act. Gradually, guys like Mark Kryvanick and Tim Belanger would join them on bass and drums respectively. And he would implement a rotating roster of guys like Tillis Verdin, Brett Guillory, Teddy Baudoin, and Travis Thibodeaux on keys. Larger shows would even see a horn section taking to the stage. Adding the horns to his live performances, MJ feels, really resonated with himself as well as the crowd. “Adding that horn section is kind of the big one. The last time we did it was an album release party which was early May, May 6th I believe. And every song on our last album had full horn sections. And so, to be able to perform them that way, with the actual horn lines as opposed to transposing keyboard parts and things like that… it’s so much better and is really able to translate what we recorded into the live performance.” These elements were a refreshing change from the previous acoustic performances which had eventually become stale in his eyes. As Jerry Martin points out, “There’s nights, as an acoustic gig, where you’re struggling to hear yourself (above the crowd).”

With Houma and Lafayette being mainstays for the MJ Dardar band, the Tasting Room and Howlin’ Wolf in New Orleans have also played host. But Houma has always marked home base for MJ. Enlisting a full-time manager and maintaining a strong online presence has enabled him to broaden his reach, which he hopes will eventually lead to a venture outside of normal boundaries. Finding value in this, MJ has been sure to engage with fans and followers in the thousands across multiple platforms. I, for one, have enjoyed the personal aspect in videos where he sits down in front the camera, playing acoustic guitar and singing. This ability to connect with his audience was instrumental during the height of Covid back in April of 2020. Along with Jerry Martin and other band mates, he committed to remotely filming forty-one full request, multi-track videos in thirty days. It was through this personal challenge and the resulting encouragement of online audiences that the genesis of the Rust record took hold.

At their core, the songs on Rust feel good. The rhythm guitar strums, tambourines, and shakers keep you in the groove while story lines originate from the heart. And bringing in that brass section gives it a feint departure from your typical country sound. Hammond and reed organ contributions back MJ’s soulful vocals nicely. And he’s got just enough grit in his voice, like the perfect mix of sweet and savory. Track “Leaver” pulls us away from this rural soundscape completely, delivering a surprising R&B plunge. Softer rhodes and sustained piano take the edge off as MJ sings about the value of his family as a child. The overall quality of these recordings is unquestionable. And this is important to point out because it doesn’t take much to pull a listener outside of an enveloping experience due to a distractive distortion or overwhelming level. It’s a delicate balance that MJ and the band maintain very well. And their ability to cross over from country to R&B seems completely natural.

MJ recorded his debut album at Audiosmith Studio in Prairieville, Louisiana under the guidance of owner Robbie Smith, a long-time friend and associate of his band mate Jerry Martin. As luck would have it, this would give way to a host of opportunities for him. Not long after completing his album, Robbie would go on to help form Redstick Records, a label out of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. And he asked if MJ would be interested in signing a recording contract with the label. Travis Thibodeaux, whom I mentioned earlier, would also do work for the studio on keys. Bringing his experience as the keyboard player and vocalist for Journey, and writing credits for “Take My Hand” recorded by Grammy winner Wayne Toups, Travis would prove a valuable asset. Through Redstick Records, MJ would have the pleasure of working with Brignac Lane Studios in Saint Amant, Louisiana while still reaping the benefits of Robbie’s production skills. He would also go onto be featured in several works by Jambon and Company, a band that had also recorded at Audiosmith Studio. Taylor Nauta, another artist on the Redstick roster, recorded guitar on MJ’s upcoming record “Caught Up In The Middle Of The Rain”. And Deanna Scott, MJ’s manager, would be taken on as Artist Management at Redstick Records. Being within this circle of musicians, recording studios, and labels has enabled MJ to implement things like strings into his work. The extension has also accommodated him in his quest to expand across country, blues, R&B, and pop genres. And being in the room with some of his personal heroes while soaking in the camaraderie and confidence of others has really inspired him to push the envelope.

With album number two, “The Reason Why”, nearly complete. And his third album taking shape, MJ am Jerry still intend to release stripped down, acoustic versions in the midst. The impact of growth through their journey, first with Robbie Smith of Audiosmith Studio, then Redstick Records and manager Deanna Scott continues to propel the two forward. Over 100 shows this past year and so much time logged in the studio is proof positive of their drive. I couldn’t be more delighted to have the privilege of sitting down with MJ and his team, and discussing how things took shape as well as where the band hopes to find themselves in the future. Below you will find relevant links to the players mentioned in this article. The full interview can be found on our podcast where MJ, Jerry, and myself go on to discuss navigating festivals and venues, chord structures and story lines of previous albums versus upcoming ones, and much more. Special thanks goes out to Kevin Sevin in Houma, Louisiana for the use of his beautiful home during the filming of this interview, which you will soon be able to see on our youtube channel by subscribing today.

https://mjdardarmusic.com

https://www.audiosmithstudio.com

https://redstickrecords.com

Author: David Trahan

Neworleansmusicians.com

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Poisson Rouge

A sense of identity can be drawn from the music one chooses. And as children, a sense of our family’s identity is passed on to us in this manner. We’re not always lucky enough to have heritage tucked into that medium. But members of the band Poisson Rouge were. Now husband and wife, located in Erath, Louisiana, founding members Greg and Kylie Griffin were both steeped in Acadian culture as children. Some relatives in Kylie’s family spoke fluent French. And the sounds of zydeco artists like Rockin Sydney were frequently heard by Greg as a child. As awareness of their culture gradually took hold, they began to form bonds with the underlying meanings of these elements. Those like Greg and Kylie that are fortunate enough to learn about their heritage at an early age often feel a sense of pride within it and a duty to protect it. This sentiment is at the core of Poisson Rouge.

Perhaps a brief pause is in order to help clarify key components of the origins of this microcosm we call Louisiana. Acadian heritage is that of French ex-patriots that arrived in Nova Scotia seeking religious freedom. And in their quest were ultimately driven out of the province, some coming to settle in Louisiana. The Creole heritage draws from people indigenous to Louisiana as a colony and possesses French, West African, Spanish and Native American roots. Consequently, the Creole population is comprised of African, Caucasian, and multi-racial people. Cajun is a result of the melding of both Acadians and Creoles. Being that the groups are now so closely related and the origins of each date back hundreds of years amongst many continents, all of what I just said is debatable. And the terms have taken on different meanings over the years. But for the purposes of this article, it will help to at least explain the continuity amongst the influences of each.

Being a genre built upon and delivering messages of tradition, the realm of cajun, zydeco, and creole music can sometimes be tricky to navigate for musicians. Purist nay-sayers turn up occasionally, thumbing their nose at the infusion of styles such as R&B or funk that are outside of familiar landscapes. I suspect there is an inherent fear that things of this nature will eventually dilute an important element of these cultures. But while Poisson Rouge appreciates the importance of the preservation of traditional styles, they welcome inspiration from other genres too. For instance, their song La Louisiane contains more than one verse where Kylie actually raps. But the song is encased in familiar zydeco elements like a washboard, an accordion, and a French horn. As for the final result, how does it sound you might ask? Poisson Rouge books countless venues and festivals every year with attendances from hundreds to thousands.

Like many of us, Greg, Kylie, and other members of this band grew up listening to a multitude of different genres. And sometimes the influence of those alternative genres seep into and subsequently change the final result. As for the nay-sayers, Greg disagrees with the idea that music needs to be made to appeal to other people. And I second this notion because I believe pandering to appeal hinders creativity. Ironically, the free communication of and borrowing from different genres closely parallels the manner in which cajun, creole, and zydeco genres were formed over the years. Similarly, though trumpet and french horn were Kylie’s strong suit, she sought to change that upon returning to the University of Lafayette to pursue her master’s degree in music. Courses there with horns were centered around classical jazz. As she explained to the university, “I’m done with the band stuff. I don’t want to play french horn anymore because it doesn’t serve any purpose. I’m just teaching music, I’m not playing music in that genre, you know classical jazz.” Kylie went on to play accordion while pursuing her masters. Within the concept of influences shared amongst genres, I couldn’t help but think what effect years of french horn and trumpet in a classical jazz setting had on a musician that would ultimately play accordion in a zydeco band. I find these things both fascinating and convergent. The cross-over appeal between audiences that Poisson Rouge enjoys is achieved by their willingness to accept and include influences from other genres not native to their history. With tradition and progression lurking, Poisson Rouge as a body of work has never felt contrived for its members. There is a deep-rooted passion that underlies their resulting sound. Some of the band’s members are people who were music majors in college. Some of them are music teachers now. Some of their families’ members play music. And all of them got to see musicians on festival stages at an early age.

In Louisiana, there are more festivals per year than days in a year. We celebrate everything from culture and industry to wooden boats and food trucks. Yes, we actually have several food truck festivals. (The next one is in Slidell, Louisiana on October 29th, 2022, a week from this article’s posting.) Making the transition from the crowd to the stage, bassist Greg Griffin has taken notice of those in attendance at some of these festivals. Often times he can read what type of crowd he’s playing for by their style of dress. And even when the crowd hasn’t quite fit his band’s infused design, he’s still seen nods of approval. But singer/ accordion player Kylie expressed concern stating, “Playing in Alexandria has been the most eye opening. Because nobody really dances; very few. You will get some people that will dance. And you’re like woah, one couple danced. But down here, that (dancing) is the norm…. It goes to show you how fast our culture is just going away, especially in some areas of the state.” When Kylie was growing up, you couldn’t keep drinks on the tables in zydeco clubs due to the amount of people dancing on wooden floors.

Through twists and turns in the bayou, the trees begin to envelope you, gradually concealing a world beyond. Likewise, the further one strays off the beaten path in Louisiana, the more they become surrounded by unique characteristics indigenous to the region. These features contribute a sense of singularity to the land as well as its inhabitants. Losing these features can essentially begin to strip away the character of a region and a sense of one’s own identity. Long ago, our nation’s Constitution removed bilingualism and in time would include an article that restricted the judicial process to the English language. This reduced the status of the French in Louisiana. And the assimilation of Louisiana’s French population into a now English society would see children chastised and humiliated for speaking French in schools. Since the language of a people is at the core of their identity, this effectively began the removal of their existence. Kylie grew up on a crawfish farm in Pecan Island that was later claimed by Hurricane Rita, which ultimately resulted in its sale. Her children will never know that way of life, nor will their children. And it was her late grandmother that would speak French to her when she was a child, not her parents. With the extinguishment of these factors comes a cultural whitewashing. As time marches on and previous generations die, with them is buried little pieces of our heritage. Unearthing these pieces and placing them on display is essential to maintaining a people’s continuation. In Greg and Kylie’s capacity both as musicians and as school teachers, it has always been a focal point to keep their own culture at the forefront of their efforts. They have both participated in a French immersion program in Nova Scotia that works to embolden the use of French language amongst its participants. They have put on summer music camps for children in the past where the kids played guitar, fiddle and accordion, singing songs in French. The school where they both teach facilitates a crawfish pond and a rice patch, familiarizing its students with their local way of life. The song I had mentioned previously, La Louisiane, speaks about the causes and effects resulting in a disappearing culture. And in building upon traditional music styles and stories, and travelling to spread these messages, Poisson Rouge hopes to instill a sense of urgency in its audience as to the needs of a dying legacy. You can find out more about Poisson Rouge on their website poissonrougemusic.com. There you will find pictures, bio’s and links to more music.

Greg Griffin – Bass

Kylie Griffin – Vocals, accordion

Jude Pryor – Guitar

Bradley Gueho – washboard

Scott Domingue – Percussionist

Author: David Trahan

Neworleansmusicians.com