2009 was my third Voodoo Music Festival and the fifth since mighty Katrina came through New Orleans. The dark days that followed Katrina cast a shadow on a city who really didn’t want that kind of attention. It’s slimy underside exposed in more ways that one, the city seemed like it may be permanently crippled. But the formidable force that is the spirit of New Orleans rose as if Marie Laveau herself had summoned it to do battle with the gooey, toxic, deadly mess that Katrina left behind. Everyone in the crescent city had the same goal: REBUILD. Common sense said that it would happen again, to rebuild was a bad, expensive idea and that the city is doomed to die by hurricane eventually.
Still, “rebuild” instantly became a mantra for millions. Magic? Maybe. Voodoo? Definitely, at least if we’re talking about music. In 2005, with NOLA still very raw from Katrina havoc just 2 months prior, the Voodoo music festival went on. Austin’s Dan Dyer, who has performed at many Voodoo music festivals, told me that the “frontier spirit” that year was very special. It was hard to find a place to stay since many places still didn’t have power. There weren’t conveniences. But there was still music and there was no charge to attend. It was a place for locals and lovers of New Orleans to gather and be healed by music. Maybe that was possible because the Voodoo Music Festival is the brainchild of a native. One of the few independently owned music festivals in the country. Steve Rehage, originator and owner of the festival, grew up in New Orleans, played football for LSU, and had a dream of having a kick-ass entertainment company. Fast forward to now; he’s done it. Steve’s hometown festival is a winner – Voodoo draws well over 100,000 fans. With a quality lineup of no strict genre, quirky fun shopping, a nice variety of fest food (although I heard that locating vegan and veggie selections wasn’t easy, they were there) Voodoo offers something for everyone and is perfect in New Orleans, perfect for City Park.
There is something about a giant music festival at City Park in New Orleans (just ask jazz fans). The property became a public park in 1854 and was officially established as City Park in 1891. During the Great Depression, thanks to Teddy Roosevelt, $12 million federal dollars went into jobs for 20,000 men and women to build the parks bridges, roads, and fountains. The lagoons were hand-dug – all ten miles of them. Home to the New Orleans Museum of Art and draped by the largest collection of mature live oaks in the world, the park’s first bandstand was dedicated in 1917. Katrina wasn’t kind to City Park. Some parts, like the above mentioned bandstand, are still patiently waiting for repair funding and many of the ancient oaks were killed or damaged beyond surviving.
Day 1
The threat of heavy rain loomed on the first day of Voodoo, but attitudes were good. Walking into the festival, several large knobby mounds on the median of Lelong Drive spelling “welcome” in Braille gave us a taste of the new art installations in and around City Park. We noticed that the trees on the Lelong Drive median have grown substantially since new trees went in after Katrina; more scars healing. More new growth at the festival this year; VooBoo was directly inside of the front entrance, incorporating all things good about music, art, and education in a kid friendly place (kids under 10 could come to the festival free). Just in case that all sounds too gentile for a raucous music festival, the mobile Miller Lite beer vendors were ready to sell you a beer about 25 steps onto festival grounds.
By the time we’d gotten in and done a lap around the grounds, the NOLA band The Vettes took the Voodoo stage. The sky was churning, the wind was blowing, but no rain fell – yet. It all complimented Rachel Vette’s strutting vocals and people were starting to gather in good numbers (considering what was on the radar). Meanwhile, carrying the torch of Tao’s Grandfather Pete, The Tao Rodrigues-Seeger Band performed a well-received version of Pete’s “Bring ‘em Home” from the Preservation Hall tent. Opening with “Always a Friend”, Alejandro Escovedo played to an enthusiastic crowd at the SoCo/WWOZ stage. Pinging over to see Janelle Monae, I was blown away by the pint-sized powerhouse of energy. If Grace Jones and James Brown had a fierce but sweet love child that came out of the womb dancing and singing, it would be Janelle. She owned that big Voodoo stage! Planning to cross back over to see The Black Keys, I crossed the grounds when a cold blast announced impending rain. I donned my poncho and ducked into my favorite place to hang out, the Preservation Hall tent. Just as the parade opening the show for the Preservation Hall Stars entered the tent, the dark sky opened up. A few fat splats of rain and then a whole lot of them. I took shelter for awhile under a porch-like prop with a young couple – this was his 3rd Voodoo, her first. She told me that she loved the festival and it was holding up to all of the good things that she’d heard about it, even with the rain. I took a photo of the two of them with their camera and they went splashing away towards The Black Keys. I spent a few more minutes in the PH tent, not wanting to miss anything but needing to see more in the same time slot. I should have escaped, because I was then trapped by a bearded hippie in a rain soaked tie-dye shirt who wanted to talk about the RAIN, man! He was as gleeful as a child and you couldn’t help to smile and hope that he would forever be twirling happily. By now, it was still raining, but I headed over to see how The Black Keys were doing on a rain-soaked stage. Amazingly, they were still enthusiastically playing to a soggy but happy crowd and no one had been electrocuted. The rain did let up and the rest of the evening went on as planned. The Knux pushed their luck and lost with event security (rightfully so in my opinion) by the time Ween and Eminem finished their sets, we were out of the park to rest in preparation for the next 2 days.
Day 2
Trifecta: Voodoo. Halloween. New Orleans. We were in City Park by 11:00am, ready for hours of music and mud. The rain clouds from the night before were clearing. It was cool, breezy and sunny, a perfect day that would make San Diego jealous. In the VooBoo area, the NOLA Jazz Taiko Drummers were gracefully pounding a rhythm to start the day with. As we walked into the thick of it, Andrew Duhon and the Lonesome Crows thanked their “small but mighty” crowd at the SoCo/WWOZ stage (maybe the crowd looked small from the stage, but it was a better than fair showing for an 11:00am set). As Andrew wrapped up, I zipped over to the Bingo! Tent to see The White Bitch. Bingo! was behind schedule and the Brother Taisuke Mass Choir were still singing halleluleahs. It was a little odd to see an imported Japanese gospel choir in cajun country, but that’s the beauty of the Voodoo mix. The choir was gleaming, happy to sing, and obviously loving the opportunity so you couldn’t help but love them back. By now, the Bingo! tent and SoCo stages were running around an hour behind schedule. Having read about Sam and Ruby, I really enjoyed their performance, especially The Suitcase Song. Crossing the fest once again, I expected to hear K’Naan – sadly for us, but good for schedule, K’naan cancelled his appearance and Dan Dyer’s set was moved to the Voodoo stage. The good-natured Voodoo crowd stayed put and soaked in Dan’s soulful signing, keys, and guitar in the bright cool sun. Mates of State took to their keys and synth in Captain & Tenille outfits, getting into the Halloween spirit. MuteMath, a native NOLA band, thanked their hometown crowd and played right up to the point that Gogol Bordello assaulted the opposite stage in their never boring whirling gypsy gusto. By the time Wolfmother was rocking the Voodoo stage; large clusters were forming in anticipation of the night’s headliners. Watching from center of the Playstation/Billboard.com stage, Jane’s Addiction had me absolutely entranced. From the Día de los Muertos-themed stage, space-pixie-caped king Perry Farrell encouraged NOLA to “keep rebuilding” and invited the dead to come party with the crowd; apropos for Halloween night. The band closed with perennial crowd favorite “Jane Says”, inviting some lucky festival-goers onstage to dance. Kiss was as Kisstastic as they always are – pyrotechnics and all. While George Clinton funked-up the SoCo/WWOZ stage, I caught former father of the Dead Kennedys, Jello Biafra talking to the crowd about politics in the Bingo! tent just before he belted out “I Won’t Give Up”. Jello and band, the Guantanamo School of Medicine, show that people over 50 can still be unforgivingly loud, opinionated and intelligent.
Day 3
The third day, the first of November (where did this year go?), was blindingly bright, pleasantly breezy, and cool. Teen group All Time Low performed to a large, shrieking mass of young, swooning female fans. It was endearingly innocent after seeing Jane’s Addiction the night before. As we walked the length of the festival, we were surrounded by music of every type, all of it excellent; Leo Jackson and The Melody Clouds warmed us like the sun, Amanda Shaw was playing the varnish off a fiddle, and kids were blowing bubbles and giggling in VooBoo. We listened to lovely singer-songwriter Suzanna Choffel and waved out Austin flag. Kids got their locks rocked with colored hairspray. A poster day for a music festival, with The Flaming Lips and Lenny Kravitz coming up as the last shows on my list. I loved Shooter Jennings – he seems to be more comfortable onstage than last time I saw him and the band was great, Southern rock in the sun can’t be beat. The Pogues were ON but Shane was…Shane. I bet his new teeth are bummed that they ended up in his mouth. Widespread Panic played a “short” set (short for them = anything under 3 hours) to adoring fans while on the other big stage was set for the always elaborate Flaming Lips.
Taking a time out, I listened to a passionate request from musicians and other supporters call to get word out about the efforts to save the coasts – a staggering 26 square miles of land disappears yearly on the Louisiana coastline. Federal assistance is needed to save the coast; Louisiana can only do so much to defend itself. Man-made channels cut paths through the wetlands that bring in saltwater and like a block of ice in saltwater, the vegetation and animals just evaporate. The coastal wetlands also assist largely in protecting Louisiana cities from some of the weather seasonally screaming in from the Gulf of Mexico. Saving the coast is saving New Orleans, but funding is hard to come by and there is a lot of competition and opposition. You can read more about this critical effort at www.healthycoast.org
I wandered over to see JJ Grey and Mofro, having only seen them in smaller venues. JJ seemed relaxed and happy as he played in the glorious afternoon breeze. I hadn’t seen The Flaming Lips live – I’d only seen the still photos that my photographer husband had taken of them at previous shows. I’d done my research and I knew what to expect (confetti, streamers, the giant LED vagina the band was birthed out of), but WOW. First, there is Wayne’s energy. No doubt it’s his show – and you feel lucky to be invited. He commented that he was “glad to see that New Orleans is still fighting”. There was much going on and the music wrapped around it all like wet confetti. As Wayne rolled around in his giant vinyl ball, I hoped Tom had a good position to shoot him from (he did – directly under him). Giant orange and yellow balloons were released into the crowd and bouncing commenced. One of the fuzzy bear-suited dancers on stage stripped off her suit and streaked across the stage and got a hug from Wayne – the crowd cheered and enjoyed a snowfall of confetti. I left happily imprinted – in my head, “Race For The Prize” has played while giant orange and yellow balls bounced the whole way home to Texas. For those immune to Wayne’s charms, Lenny Kravitz provided a more mellow way to wrap up the evening. We were too anxious to see the day’s photos to be out and about. Sleep was needed. In a city of fabulous food, we got take-out and ate with WWOZ on the radio at our rental place while my husband edited and I made sure I could make sense of my notes.
Sure, there was (and is) crime, poverty and corruption in New Orleans. It’s worse there than some places, not as bad as others. Progress is typically slow in places where a good portion of the year is hot and humid, especially in a city that appreciates having fun at the risk of looking lazy. Ask a native and they will tell you that New Orleans isn’t coming back – it never left. People come and go, but New Orleans will be there, defying logic. Need proof? The Saints may go to the playoffs this year. The musical, mysterious soul of New Orleans defies logic and can’t be destroyed by a hurricane. Hope to see you there next year.
