night tripper

One day in 1968 Judy came through town and stopped by my place. She said, "Have you heard this guy, calls himself Dr John the Night Tripper?" I said, "no", turned on the radio and heard Gris Gris Gumbo Ya Ya. Must have been some kind of voodoo. Dr John has been a favorite ever since. My friends laughed when I said he was a killer pianist and if I ever got my record label off the ground (a fantasy I haven't given up, yet) I'd record him solo. A couple of years later he put out Dr. John Plays Mac Rebennack, all piano solos – a beautiful, and deep album. I saw him first around 1974, decked out with the Indian headdress and robes, the gris gris girls, air filled with glitter, and I saw him again about a decade later playing solo piano for about three hours with not a boring note the entire night. I looked forward to his Saturday night concert and also thought it'd be fun to get a shot or two of him. I made a point of meeting his road manager, Hooter, because I try to avoid annoying the artists. I said if there was a way to get two minutes with Mac I'd appreciate it – whenever or wherever – if it was cool. He said come backstage about seven. I got a backstage pass (thank you, John Orisyk) and when I walked by Mac's dressing room he recognized me from earlier that afternoon, when I said hello at the hotel, and invited me in. I spent at least an hour, just me and Mac in the dressing room, talking and listening to his stories and life. I took about forty pictures and when the backstage manager (thank you, Susan) suggested it was time for me to go, Mac said naah, stick around . . . never mind that shit. All that time I felt like I was hangin' with an old buddy . . . very cool guy and the real thing . . . and of course it was great when he put out his hand at the end and said, what's your name again? Brian? Brian, you are very cool. Of course, I'm not cool for saying that but what the hell, it was a good moment. The show was excellent, great band, the sound wasn't the best but hey whaddya gonna do? Later I stopped by the Commodore with Nou Dadoun but didn't feel like going up. I've heard some truly great music at the venerable Commodore over the decades but it can be way too loud and i wasn't up for it. Hangin' in front of the Commodore is fun enough sometimes, depending on the show. Everbody comes by at one point or another. Chatted with Marke Andrews, Morgan Childs, Adam Rohrlick (who said he was halfway through Dr John's autobiography, which I never heard about and now look forward to reading), and apologies to the others whom, at the moment, I can't recall. Nou finally went up and I went by O'Doul's for the late night jam, always more fun than a tuba full of eggnog. I've taken no pictures there, for some reason. Maybe because there's no light. The great New Orleans drummer, Herman Ernest III, with Dr John and the Lower 911 band, relaxes after the gig. The price of hangin' backstage with Dr John is missing Jim Byrne's opening set. Vancouver legend Jim Byrnes with backup vocalists, just part of the group performing with Jim. Left to right that's Marcus Mosely, Will Sanders, Byrnes, and Ron Small. I haven't even talked about earlier in the day – the free all-day Roundhouse music, and all day Sunday, just passed. I'll fill in the gaps later, when I've cooled off some. Man, it's HOT. (I'm not complaining . . . not yet, anyway.) Jazz Festival posts jazz festival . . . one jazz festival . . . two jazz festival . . . two (b) jazz for thinkers jazz festival . . . thursday jazz lunch with the Smiths night tripper jazz festival . . . lost weekend Bar Light