Tag: New Orleans

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Deano & Jo are joined by Cat Head Biscuit Boys in their CD release show that’s more than meets the eyes and ears

Jo Walston and Dean Schlabowske / Olivia Perillo photo

by Dominick Cross

OPELOUSAS, La. — At first glance, one could assume that the Sunday double-header at the Whirlybird was a cool way to pass a good time on a hot June afternoon in Louisiana.

It was more than that. It was about beginning anew and all that comes with it; it was about moving on, but not without a hint of sorrow.

It was a debut record release event for a couple of talented and edgy honky tonkin’ transplants who have set up their base camp in Lafayette.

It was also the return gig of a string band, long-time absent from the local scene due to the illness and death of one of its co-founders, the pandemic, and the unexpected find with the addition of a youthful musician.

And it all worked out.

The house was nearly full, the music was pretty damn good and the scent of some tasty Cajun fare, by Jolie Meaux’s Porch, Wine & Gravy, wafted through the air.

If you get a chance to see Deano & Jo and/or the Cat Head Biscuit Boys, do it.

Deano & Jo

In some ways, while it was recorded in 2022, the debut release by Dean Schlabowske and Jo Walston, Deano & Jo, was decades in the making.

But first, a little background.

Among other bands, Dean may be best known for his 25-and-counting years and a dozen recordings with the “Cash meets Clash” sound of the Waco Brothers out of Chicago.

Likewise, Jo and Austin’s Meat Purveyors, known for “punk grass tales of redneck debauchery and woe,” go back to at least 1998 and have six CDs to show for it.

And with both bands on Bloodshot Records at the time, touring together was a natural fit.

“We played a lot of gigs together over the years,” said Dean. “The Waco Brothers and the Meat Purveyors were kindred spirits right from the start. We all became good friends.”

Dean would sometimes head to Austin for his side projects and “play with Jo’s band because they were great people and great players,” he said. “So we had a bunch of projects over the years long before Jo and I were a couple.”

Together in different configurations, Dean and Jo have three recordings.

“We did stuff together before that, but it was more like my projects that I had Jo sing on,” said Dean. “Whereas this is definitely our project.”

Deano & Jo at the Whirlybird, Sunday, June 25, 2023 (left to right): Cameron Fontenot, Jason Norris, Jo Walston, Pudd Sharp, Jean Torres, and Dean Schlabowske. Dominick Cross / photo

The first inception of Dean and the Meat Purveyors was called Deano and the Purvs. Ice Cold Singles followed and then, sans the Purvs, it was Trash Mountain Trio.

“I will say that compared to all the ways we’ve worked together in the past,” said Dean. “This is really different because it’s a true musical partnership.”

The project was recorded at Staffland Studio by Chris Stafford and is out on Plenty Tuff Records. The initial sessions began in April, but overdubbing/mixing sessions “took the better part of 2022 to complete,” Dean said.

“Once it was done, it took a little while to get on a release schedule because we decided to put it out on the label that my band, the Waco Brothers, has started called Plenty Tough Records,” he said.

In addition, the Waco Brothers had a new recording hitting the streets, “and I didn’t want to try to promote the two records at the same time,” said Dean. “So we held off an extra few months because of that, too.

“It’s felt like it’s taken forever to get out,” he said. “But it’s finally here.”

In the past, Dean would let Jo and band know he had songs and a record in mind and they’d all go from there.

“It was more like them sitting in on my side project,” Dean said. “This is more a real reflection of Jo’s and my shared passions and tastes in music.”

Think George Jones, Ray Price, Loretta Lynn and Buck Owens in the country music realm; bluegrass faves include the Stanley Brothers, Hazel Dickens and Jimmy Martin — with a twist and even a shout or two.

“It’s a synthesis of each of our approaches,” said Jo.

The Deano & Jo release features compadres from the past and present.

The new album includes Mark Rubin (Bad Livers) whose bass brings the “sound of punk rock bluegrass, kind of, or high octane, like edgy bluegrass,” said Jo. “And that’s what got me involved and helped me formulate what it is I liked about bluegrass and what kind of band I wanted to have.”

Rubin, a resident of New Orleans these days, hopped on board and “he did all of his parts in one session in one day. And then we overdubbed from there.”

So, with Jo on acoustic guitar and Dean on electric guitar and Rubin on bass, the basic tracks were laid down.

Beth Chrisman, of Austin via Alaska, joined in on fiddle. She’s currently with Silas Lowe.

“Actually, the Meat Purveyors met Beth in Alaska when we played up there in Fairbanks way back in the late 90’s, early 2000,” said Jo. “She was just starting to learn how to play fiddle.

“So now she’s in Austin and she plays with everybody,” she said. “She’s fabulous. She did some great solos on the record. You can tell the love is there, it’s nice what she did for us.”

From Dean’s “Chicago alternative country world” came Robbie Fulks and some flat picking.

“Robbie was another label mate at Bloodshot and a pretty celebrated songwriter and phenomenal guitar player,” said Dean.

Locals Stafford and Chas Justus added their talents on steel and guitar, respectively.

“Nobody plays drums,” said Jo.

Dean concurred: “And no one plays drums.”

Well, on Sunday, the set will be a tad different from the CD.

“I will say that compared to all the ways we’ve worked together in the past. This is really different because it’s a true musical partnership.”

Dean Schlabowske

“We decided we needed to do more of what I’d call a ‘standard lineup’ with electric bass and drums for the show,” said Dean.

The line-up will also look a bit different as summertime is road time for many musicians. So the line-up will be Cameron Fontenot, fiddle; Jason Norris, mandolin; Pudd Sharp, bass; Jean Torres, drums; and Dean and Jo.

Back to the recording, you’ll find previously written originals from Dean’s extensive songbook and a few covers by the couple’s honky tonk heroes and bluegrass stars.

“We wanted to do some bluegrass/honky tonk cover versions that we felt were a little more deep cuts, like, not things that you’d expect to hear,” Dean said.

A Texan with 36 years in Austin, Jo was joined by Dean for three years before the couple moved briefly to Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Having visited Lafayette independently and together, the couple knew they’d moved to an area high on homegrown roots music, which isn’t too distant from the honky tonk, bluegrass and alt-country that has defined their music careers.

“We knew that we had simpatico, musical passion with the whole rootsy music and Americana,” said Jo. “Cajun kind of goes hand-in-hand with honky tonk and bluegrass.

“We just decided to try to jump in and meet as many people that we could vibe with on that level as soon as possible,” she said. “But you have to do that when you move to a new place anyway.”

Austin may still be weird, but more so, it’s a pricey place to live. Although the couple moved to Milwaukee to look after Dean’s ailing mother, “the plan was always to get back down south,” said Dean.

Jo Walston and Dean Schlabowske / Olivia Perillo photo

“Both of us had been to Lafayette and loved it. Loved the culture and the music,” he said. “It’s affordable, which was a great contrast to anything we could do in Texas.”

“I’m a Southern woman,” said Jo. “My people go on back, way back and I just needed to get back down here — at least close enough.”

So, with Lafayette conveniently located between New Orleans and Houston and Austin 5.5 hours away, it made for a smart move in more ways than one.

“For me, it’s kind of a perfect place to be,” said Jo. “We love the people and the music and the food and the way that people, even if they’re really old, like 80, 90 years old, people are out there partying and dancing and stuff.

“We want to go out like that,” she said.

“Hopefully a pleasant march towards death,” Dean added.

So they settled in Lafayette in 2022 and kept a low-ish profile on the music scene. As a duo, they played a fundraiser with other bands not too long ago and have spent some time on the Whirlybird stage — that kind of thing.

“For the first year we were here, we decided not to play live and so, really, it was just a matter of getting the sessions together (for the recording), which didn’t take as much time like if we were trying to do gigs all that while,” said Dean.

But the itch to do the record had to be scratched for personal and professional reasons.

“It felt to me like we wanted to just jump in because we found Staffland, we found Staff (Chris Stafford) and we’ve been wanting to do a record for a while,” said Jo. “When we moved here, we knew that we weren’t able to gig if no one knew who we were.”

So they secured Staffland Studio for a recording session and got to know Stafford and other local musicians in the process.

Dean said it was also a way to make some friends “who play music around here before just immediately trying to get gigs and form a band with people we don’t know.”

Going forward, another full record is not in the near future, but “we want to go a bit more modern route and record and release singles digitally,” said Dean. “We want to be an act that plays really regularly and regionally.

“We’re hoping at one point to get it to where we can play once a month in the Lafayette area and once a month in New Orleans,” he said. “And then a smattering of other gigs at places that we can drive to in a day.”

In the meantime, “we just want to keep writing and releasing new music and hopefully solidify a group of local musicians that are playing with us,” said Dean. “And once we develop a little bit of a following, we’ll actually be able to pay them decently.”

As a prolific songwriter, “I want an outlet for that and it’s pretty easy now that we’re in the digital age,” he said.

“Yeah, we’re just going to keep making music because what else is there to do that’s good,” said Jo. “It’s really one of the few things left that’s just fun.

“We’re going to do it,” she said. “We’re going to keep doing it.”

Cat Head Biscuit Boys

The late Bruce MacDonald, left; with Roger Kash. / Olivia Perillo

It wasn’t like the Cat Head Biscuit Boys were calling it quits when guitarist/vocalist and cofounder, Bruce MacDonald, died late April 2022. After all, the band had been on hiatus during the long illness that would take his life, and there’s also the COVID thing.

“Bruce was sick for a long time, so that kind of derailed us,” said Roger Kash, who with MacDonald and Ben Shank were the nucleus of the band. “Our sound revolved around me, Bruce and Ben, the fiddle player. We just had this unique thing.”

As time passed (about three-and-a-half years), Kash and Shank concluded they missed having a band, Cat Head Biscuit Boys in particular.

“I miss playing out a lot and so did Ben,” said Kash. “So we decided to do it again.”

Once the decision was made to keep the Biscuits (Kash’s nickname for the band) playing, filling the roster, well, at least filling one position, was daunting.

“I was having a hard time finding a guitar player because I was always thinking we’ve got to find somebody like Bruce — which is impossible.”

As it happened, thanks to a tip from Chas Justus, a phenomenal guitar player himself, a guitarist was a bass player away.

Eric Moody, bassist with the Biscuits in their last rendering, happened to have a guitar-playing son in Ethan Moody, who plays with Jeffery Broussard and the Creole Cowboys.

Kash asked Eric if his son “could cut it.” The dad’s three-part answer was: a) “Oh, yeah!” b) “He loved that band.” and c) “He’d love to do it.”

It was all settled at the first rehearsal a couple of months ago.

“He was great. It sounded different, obviously,” said Kash. “He was really into it, very enthusiastic. He picks things up really quick.”

Kash had some reacquainting to do himself.

“I hadn’t played a lot of material in years, so it was me, like, relearning this stuff,” he said. “Or re-remembering this stuff even though we played it for 10 years.”

With a nod to Shank — “Ben would always bring in these great choices of things to play like he always did” — so keep an ear out for familiar tunes from days of yore, with some new music.

Cat Head Biscuit Boys are: Ben Shank, fiddle; Eric Moody, bass; Ethan Moody, guitar; Roger Kash, mandolin and mandola.

“I was having a hard time finding a guitar player because I was always thinking we’ve got to find somebody like Bruce — which is impossible.”

Roger Kash

“The only thing with Bruce being gone is that all three of us, me, Ben and Bruce would share lead vocal duties,” he said. “But Ethan can sing. Ethan’s got a good voice. So we’ve slowly got to work up songs for Ethan to sing.”

In the meantime, Kash will sing a majority of the songs with Ben taking on some. “And I think Ethan’s going to probably have one that he’s going to sing on Sunday,” said Kash. “He’s a such a sweet kid and he’s just a really good musician. We’re kind of lucky to have him.”

The Biscuits, if you are wondering, is a string band.

“We’re definitely a string band. And we play all different kinds of music and songs that we love, songs that other people don’t cover that we have our own arrangements for,” Cash said. “It’s an interesting mix of stuff.”

Cat Head Biscuit Boys at the Whirlybird, June 25, 2023 (from left): Ben Shank, Eric Moody, Roger Kash and Ethan Moody. / Dominick Cross photo

Take “Going Up The Country” by Canned Heat. You’ll think again when you hear it played Sunday.

“It’s got that flute part in it. Ben rearranged it where. He’s playing that flute part on the fiddle,” said Kash. “We’ve got a real nice arrangement for that.”

There’s a good chance you won’t hear (just yet) the late David Egan’s “Creole Tomato,” a mainstay with the Biscuits.

“Now we’ve got to figure out who’s going to sing ‘Creole Tomato,’ which is probably our best known song,” Kash said. “It was on that little record that we made (four-song, self-titled EP on Valcour Records (2017).”

MacDonald, who was in Egan’s band for years, sang the song for the Biscuits.

“So it’s hard for me to hear it without Bruce singing it,” said Kash. “But we’ll eventually bring it back. Either me or Ben will sing it. We’ll see what happens.”

Kash said while he hadn’t contacted other venues just yet, he’s already hearing from a couple.

“I guess the word is out,” he said, noting the Biscuits have a gig next weekend at Atmosphere and at The Hideaway on Lee in July. “And then Black Pot Festival called and wants us to play there, too.

“I guess we’re back,” Kash said. “Sorta, kinda.”

(Fun fact: Cat Head Biscuit Boys’ first gig was Shank’s wedding about a dozen years ago.)

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¡Vamos!

Latin Music Festival devuelve

Cimafunk headlines Latin culture fête featuring authentic cuisine, professional dancers, art and kids activities

Michelle Colón elaborates on songs, Malentina of the Lafayette Latin All-Stars, and the line-up

Michelle Colón fronts Malentina & the Lafayette Latin All-Stars, set to hit the Latin Music Festival stage at Parc International, 5:30 p.m., Saturday, October 1, 2022, in Lafayette, Louisiana.

by DOMINICK CROSS

LAFAYETTE, LA — Absent two years courtesy of COVID, the Latin Music Festival returns and is raring to go at Parc International in Downtown Lafayette, Saturday, October 1, 2022.

A new start time, 4 p.m., is in place along with Festival International de Louisiane as producer of the Asociación Cultural Latino Acadiana’s family-friendly event that showcases Latin food, dance, art, and, of course, music.

The line-up features Cuban funk superstar Cimafunk, Rumba Buena from New Orleans, Acadiana’s own Malentina & the Lafayette Latin All-Stars, as well as Latinos on the Rise, a variety show.

Tickets are $10 and are available here and at the gate. Kids 12 and under admitted at no charge.

Front and center of Malentina & the Lafayette Latin All-Stars is Michelle Colón, a native of Puerto Rico and Lafayette resident for 10 years. Colón is a singer, songwriter, and stage (most recently, “Closer,” at Cité des Arts in Downtown) and film actor.

“We’re performing some of our most established classics that people love to hear and they’re the ones we get the most requests and for good reason,” said Colón. “They’re the ones we like to play the most. So that’s a good thing.”

The band, together since February, is scheduled to take the stage at 5:30 p.m. with a set list that includes Latin classics by Eddie Palmieri, Celia Cruz, La Lupe, Willie Colón.

Other songs (viewable on YouTube) include Héctor Lavoe‘s “No Me Den Candela” at The Grouse Room, and Palmieri’s “Café,” performed at The Hideaway. Both venues are in Lafayette.

Malentina & the Lafayette Latin All-Stars

In addition, keep an ear out for a couple of originals by Colón, who has also penned songs in other genres.

“I am extremely happy we’ll be playing two original tunes,” she said. “I have plenty more, but to get a band to learn all the parts and rehearsing within enough time has been a challenge. So I decided we’d do two instead all of the rest of mine.

“I thought it was a good balance to do a few songs people have never heard before, combined with a lot of classics that they can sing along and dance to.”

The Lafayette Latin All-Stars (Editor’s note: The pedigree of these guys earns the All-Star moniker) are Josh LeBlanc (GIVERS, Serpentine Man), trumpet; Tim McFatter, saxophone; Paul Tassin, keyboard; Troy Breaux, drums; Eric Auclair, bass; Jeff George, guitar; and Evan Ceaser, congas.

Colón takes a personal interest in the songs she sings, even when they’re not her own.

“I’ve always felt that if I’m singing it, I want it to be my story,” she said. “Even the songs that I choose to cover, actually, I still think, ‘Would this be something I feel — it’s my story.’”

Colón has a procedure she follows when writing a song.

“I usually have a very good idea of what the song sounds like, which means I have the melody,” said Colón. “Now, because I cannot produce and I’m not very well versed in an instrument, I’ll usually use a piano to find my melody.”

From there, she’ll take the song to Josh LeBlanc “and he will find the chords and then he can translate that for the rest of the band,” she said. “And Troy (Breaux), because he knows so much about this music, he will lay down the percussion aspects and he will also inform the band anything in their (music) language that they wouldn’t understand otherwise.”

Malentina & the Lafayette Latin All-Stars plan play to Colón originals, “Missing Out” and La Mala.”

Colón said “Missing Out” is sung in Spanish, “but the chorus is a call and response from Spanish to English. So I decided to call it ‘Missing Out.’”

Expect “La Mala” to be the band’s opener.

“It’s interesting because I think that it’s Malentina’s signature song because Malentina, the name, I derived it from the malicious one,” she said. “I love it because I always did what everybody told me to do.

“The day that I decided that I was going to go out on my own, it just felt right to call myself ‘The Malicious One.’ It’s not about doing evil, but it is about making and breaking my rules.

“And it gives me a lot of freedom,” Colón said. “I think that’s why I suddenly feel I’ve found myself — my voice and my lyrics — because I feel free to do that.”

Which is a nice seque to…

Malentina

When not singing with the the eight-piece Latin band, Colón takes Malentina on solo endeavors, as seen and heard in Para Tí (a must see and listened to visual EP).

Michelle Colón as Malentina.

“She definitely has an esthetic; she’s definitely a persona,” said Colón. “At the end of it all, what’s cool, is that at the bottom of it all, I’m still me. And I am her. It’s impossible to divide myself from her.

“But I feel like when I embody her, I have a little more freedom to be who I want to be,” she said, adding, “which is ironic, but I think that’s just how us humans operate sometimes.”

Malentina’s “Camelia,” a full-length album with a wide-range of genres in English/Spanish, is expected to hit the streets in 2023.

As either Malentina or herself, Colón looks forward to the festival, the food and taking in the music.

“The acts we’re having — I still can’t believe Cimafunk is coming back,” she said. “I was kind of star-struck by them at Festival International.

“I’ve seen the other band that’s performing, Ruba Buena, in New Orleans,” said Colón. “And they are fantastic. In fact, there are like 10 people in one band.

“It is my hope that it sets the tone for years to come and people can expect a really bombastic and lively Latin Festival.”

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Tommy Malone’s got a ‘hankering’ and he’s bringing it to NuNu Arts Thursday in Arnaudville

Tommy Malone

by DOMINICK CROSS

ARNAUDVILLE — Tommy Malone has always wanted to do what he’s doing now — and that’s his own material.

“It’s something I’ve dipped my toe in all along, even during the subdudes and in-between all the break-ups,” said Malone, frontman of the legendary Americana band out of New Orleans. “It’s just been sitting there and rarely do I get to play any of it.”

Of course the singer/songwriter/guitarist has always written songs. He’s also made three solo records and had solo projects: The Batture Boys comes to mind. Malone has recorded with Rosanne Cash, Keb Mo’, Bonnie Raitt, Shawn Colvin, and Anders Osborne. His songs have been recorded by Joe Cocker, Orleans, and many others.

“So I’ve always had a hankering — always liked that word, hankering — to do this other material,” Malone said. “It’s just been sitting there and rarely do I get to play any of it.

“So, I’ll be bringing stuff that I’ve had for sometime, honestly, but haven’t had much of a chance to play for people,” he said.

And he’s bringing it to NuNu Arts and Culture Collective, Thursday, May 12, 2022. There’ll be a culinary pop-up by 5 Mile Cafe at 5:30 p.m. Music begins 7:30.

NuNu’s is located at 1510 Bayou Courtableau Hwy. Tickets are $25 and available here.

“I’ve got this kind of hybrid guitar that’s somewhere between an acoustic and a baritone,” said Malone. “It’s what I use when I go on the road.”

The pandemic did a lot of things to a lot of people and most of it did not so good. For Malone and the subdudes, it brought an end to the band and a new beginning for the musicians.

“The group finally laid it to rest,” said Malone, who began charting a new, personal route for himself when covid hit the U.S. in March 2020. “And then simultaneously, the ’dudes just broke up.”

Malone said the split was something everyone agreed on.

“It just wasn’t fun anymore. It wasn’t creative. It wasn’t fun,” he said. “It seemed like everybody was interested in doing other things. It was kind of like the perfect time.

“It was mutual with everybody,” said Malone. “I’ve made peace with my fellas. Everybody’s doing fine and doing things they love; creative projects and stuff.”

Malone’s 2022 tour schedule takes him to Oklahoma, Chicago, Ann Arbor, Richmond and and he’s working on other shows in Annapolis, Philadelphia, Texas and the West Coast.

“I want it to be fun, creative and simple and I want it to make sense.”

Tommy Malone

Time and wisdom has Malone taking a different approach to performing, and keeping it to two gigs per outing figures prominently into it.

“I keep it simple. I limit my shows to two. I’ll go out, I’ll do two and I’ll come home,” he said. “I want it to be fun, not terribly difficult or draining. Even my voice, it won’t hold up like it used to.

“Simpler and easier is how I approach it, where it’s fun again. I feel like we used to always try to pack too much in. By the end of it, you’re just beat and worn out. Everybody’s in a bad mood.

“I want it to be fun, creative and simple and I want it to make sense,” said Malone. “And I want to go where people really are interested.”

In other words, the veteran musician is past the days of building an audience.

“I mean, that’s silly,” Malone said. “I have to take advantage of what I have now, or have done in the past, and work with that.

“But it is a young man’s game, you know?” he said. “But I’m happy to just go where people want to hear it.

“Like I said, do two shows on the road and then come home. And that is my approach,” Malone said. “Get a good night’s rest, eat well, take care of business, and that’s it, man. No delusions of grandeur.”

Come October, Malone hopes to be in Northern California “to do some recording,” with a full band, he said. “It’ll be my project, so I’m excited about that.”

Looking back on his music career, Malone pretty much jumped in the deep end and learned to swim.

“No plan,” said Malone. “Like Van Morrison said, ‘No plan B.’ I didn’t have any frickin’ plans. I was flailing around like a mongoose. I don’t know, you know what they say, stuff happens like it’s supposed to, I guess.

“But I feel very lucky. Very lucky that. I’m able to do this, still,” he said. “I don’t know if that sounds hokey or cheesy, but I’m amazed.

“I wasn’t real sure when the pandemic hit. I was going through some other stuff. It was good, but it was difficult and it kind of put you into some soul-searching mode like, ‘Man. What am I doing?’

“I almost wanted to quit,” Malone continued. “I almost just wanted to quit music and putter around the house ’til I’m 67 and get my social security and Medicare.

“Just write songs and just sit in my little space, play for myself,” he said. “But a friend of mine who was in the last version of the subdudes — Tim Cook — he’s a dear friend and he really was inspirational in getting me wanting to play again. He really was. So I’m grateful for that, too.”

Cook now manages Malone, who lives in Metairie.

“You know what, I never dreamed of living in Metairie. I was kinda like, ‘Metairie? Oh, lord,’” said Malone with a laugh. “But we’ve got this beautiful little house, nice backyard, and I’ve got a music space in a separate building.

“It’s quiet. It doesn’t flood, big plus,” he said. “Crime is honestly not an issue. I kinda like it. Kinda like it.”

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Roger Kash on fellow Cat Head, Bruce MacDonald: ‘He played with such a fierceness and tons of soul’

Bruce MacDonald, left, with Roger Kash. Olivia Perillo/photo

by Roger Kash

My dear friend and musical compadre, the inimitable Bruce “Weasel” MacDonald, soulful guitar slinger and Louisiana musical legend caught the bus to the great beyond this morning (Sunday, March 27, 2022) after a long and protracted illness.

He was a musical force in both Lafayette and New Orleans and will be dearly missed by all who had the pleasure of sharing the stage with him.

He was in countless legendary bands – from Rufus Jagneaux (who doesn’t remember “Opelousas Sostan?”), the first Cajun rock outfit Coteau, The Song Dogs, Hard Heads, Little Queenie & The Percolators…and many others. He formed Runnin’ Pardners with George Porter of Meters fame and was the late David Egan’s longtime guitar slinger.

I had the pleasure of being his band mate in the Cat Head Biscuit Boys for over 10 years. He taught me so much and encouraged me to sing when I didn’t even know I had a voice.

Bruce MacDonald, guitarist extraordinaire, and, quite the character

‘Heart poured in every note’

I’d seen him wipe the stage with guitar players who were much more famous than he…he played with such a fierceness and tons of soul, wrote great songs….most of all, he was a great pal and I’ll miss him dearly. He was so unique, there’ll never be another quite like him.
Thanks buddy for all the laughs and inspiration. Love ya to the moon and back.

Roger Kash, musician/Freetown Radio program host on KRVS/88.7 FM, played with Bruce MacDonald in the band Cat Head Biscuit Boys. Kash granted Bayou Hack Press permission to use his facebook post about Bruce MacDonald.

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With ‘Pastimes’ in tow, LeBlanc solo show Feb. 16 at Arnaudville’s NuNu’s

Dylan LeBlanc DCross photo

Dylan LeBlanc returns to South Louisiana for an up close solo show Wednesday, February 16, 7:30 p.m.at NuNu’s Arts and Culture Collective, 1510 Bayou Courtableau Hwy, Arnaudville, LA 70512
Go here for tickets.
LeBlanc, singer/songwriter in the Americana genre, utilized his time when the pandemic first hit to record and recently release, Pastimes, a six-song EP that covers Glen Campbell (“Gentle On My Mind”), Rolling Stones (“Playing With Fire”), JJ Cale (“Sesitive Kind), Bob Dylan (“Blind Willie McTell”), Led Zeppelin “Going to California”) and, of course, Neil Young/Buffalo Springfield (“Expecting to Fly”).
Despite our best intentions, Bayou Hack Press was unable to connect with LeBlanc about the upcoming show. That said, what follows is an interview with the musician from June 10, 2019.

By Dominick Cross


BREAUX BRIDGE, LA. – It was late spring/early summer of last year when I (DC) helped Dylan LeBlanc (DL) remove the porch swing from the Breaux Bridge house he’d just moved out of and put it in his vehicle. The singer/songwriter was making a move back to Nashville, but planned on keeping a foot in nearby Lafayette, too.
In the meantime, he was also working on his new release, Renegade, with The Pollies, on the label ATO that picked him up.
Renegade dropped Friday, June 7, 2019, and Dylan LeBlanc backed by The Pollies (Jay Burgess, guitar; Spencer Duncan, bass; Jon Davis, drums; Clint Chandler, keyboard) have kicked off an extensive tour in the U.S. and Europe.
Check out Rolling Stone’s Joseph Hudak’s review of Renegade.
That said, LeBlanc’s Cautionary Tale (2016) killed it, while his 2010 release Paupers Field caught the ear of music writers and music aficionados alike.
A Shreveport native, LeBlanc, pretty much grew up at Muscle Shoals where his father, James LeBlanc, was a singer/songwriter and sessions musician.
DC: Did you pick up some pointers from your dad, maybe, about doing this sort of thing; or just from being in that atmosphere at Muscle Shoals?
DL: Well, he toured with a lot of country acts back in the early 2000s. And that was when he was kind of out on the road. He always did it on such a high level. He doesn’t understand. I’m in what you’d call, I guess, the Americana/Indie role where it’s very DYI. My label was great, but they didn’t do tours, so it was up to me to kind of like fund my own touring. But what they did what was really cool was give me my records at a portion of the price. It was, like, super cheap. So, that helped; they’d sell to us cheap so we could sell them and pocket the money and use it for the tour. Luckily, people bought records. And then we got on CBS This Morning.
DC: Yeah, I saw that. That was nice, huh?
DL: Yeah. That was interesting ’cause as soon as we did that we sold like 5,000 records the next day. So we saw a large spike in sales. That was cool. I feel like, just now, starting to make a bit of a mark and get a little bit further along in my career.
DC: Cautionary Tale and the other songs that are online, that’s some good stuff. (DL: Thank you). You’re young, man, what are you 28, 30? (DL: 28). And you’ve taken out some big chunks of time that takes people a long time to get where you are.
DL: Yeah. I’ve been touring pretty heavily since I was about 18. So, I’ve been doing it a long fucking time. I guess 10 years isn’t that long, but it seems like a long time.
DC: All the business stuff, to me, would be the biggest pain in the butt.
DL: I have a business manager, but, basically, that record that came out a couple of years ago, Cautionary Tale, was kind of like my first record that kind of put me on the map. I had put two out before that, but that record put me on the map and I had to do everything myself. Luckily, I had a publisher. I gave him half of my publishing and he gave me $30,000, so that was like my start-up money. It was like starting a small business. So I took that thirty-grand and put it to use in the best ways I knew how. It was like our tour support, basically, for the next few years.
I had to tithe it out to where like, ‘Okay, we’re not making money at shows right now, so I got to save this money and use it for gas and hotels and staying with friends when we can. And then gradually we started making money at shows because we started playing for bigger audiences and getting better guarantees. So it all kind of timed out and I was just able to maintain that money, you know, over time. And so that’s kind of the way it’s been ever since and we started finally making more money. We’ve just been sort of growing it, slowly, but surely. It’s been interesting.
DC: So, this record. Have you narrowed down to the songs you want it?
DL: Yeah, I’ve been working on it for a couple of years, really. I’ve been writing a lot. I’m not as prolific as I’d like to be. I’ll probably write one song for a fucking month. I’ll just stay on it and try to make sure that the verses are tight… And I’ll get about 15 to 20 together for a record that I think are really strong. I’ll start things and then leave them and then come back to them later. Sometimes I never go back, you know, just depends. But I usually try to tighten up 15 to 20 and it takes me a while because I want them – especially this record – I feel it’s really important that we make a record that’s very accessible to a lot of people because I’ve never really focused on that.
And this time, I’ve sort of focused more on making it more accessible to the vast majority of people and writing a lot more hooks and stuff like that. It’s more upbeat. That was one of the things the guy at ATO, John Salter and I had talked about. He said, ‘If you ever do you want to make a rock and roll record, call me.’ That was when I was playing at the Mercury Lounge in New York in 2016. And after we were done with the majority of the campaign of Cautionary Tale and the touring was winding down, I called him and I said, ‘Hey, I don’t know if you were serious, but I’ve been wanting to sort of go in the direction and make an upbeat record. It’s kind of naturally evolving into that anyway. Were you serious?’ And he was like, ‘I was absolutely serious. Let’s talk.’
And so we start talking. I sent him some songs and he started working on the contract after that and I was thrilled. So they’re going to put my next two albums out, which is fucking great. And that’s a machine of a size that I’ve never been on before, so I have no idea what can come of it, you know. But they have a lot of power and a lot of manpower and a lot of resources to really make, or break, someone.
DC: So, is this going to be a huge departure (from previous releases)?
DL: Not a huge departure. The songs, in essence, are the same structurally, they’re the same, but it’s driving more. More electric guitar. A lot more guitar solos. I made it a point to just try to like bring back that late 70’s bass and drum tone. It’s about the songs, but they’re performed in a rock and roll fashion. But it’s still all about the songs. And, you know, creating really good strong hooks with a message that speak about current events, or things that are happening today. But also about the human condition and things like that. It’s just about the songs, man, but they just have more powerful instrumentation. It’s just a lot more electric guitar and heavier drums. But it’s not, I would say, a huge departure from what I do, which I was worried about, you know.
And then I played my stuff for this producer I was working with and he was happy to hear that it wasn’t a big departure. He was like, ‘I was worried that when he said you were making a rock and roll record it was going to be something totally different. But it’s still very much you.’ And I don’t think I can help that, you know, because I definitely have a thing that I do. I’ve always sort of had that thing. It still sounds like me, just a more rocking band. So that’s cool. Hopefully, the audiences will feel the same, and hopefully we’ll make new fans.
DC: When you say ‘current events,’ is there anything political?
DL: Some of its political. I don’t really like to write politically; I never write directly politically, but I do write things that sort of hint at what’s happening at the moment. I wrote this one song called ‘Inner City Hero.’ It’s about the perspective of a Black man, what was happening when there was all the Black Lives Matter was stuff going on. By the time my records come out, the current events have always moved on. But I can’t help but write about it because the atmosphere is so thick with all the vibe of, you know, mass shootings. I wrote one song, ‘Bang Bang Bang.’ It’s about the mass shootings, and it’s a heavy tune. I had actually met a dude in New Orleans and we were talking about it and he was like, ‘Man, they’re publicizing it more, but this shit’s been happening for years. It’s been happening since the 60’s. You just hear about it more now because we have more outlets for information.’ And I was like, ‘Yeah, you’re probably right about that.’ And if you look back in history, this shit’s been going on forever. It’s just now becoming more widely acknowledged and people are getting tired of it. And I will say there’s increase of the events that are happening. But it’s nothing new.
The march, back in the day, in Kent, Ohio (at Kent State University, May 4, 1970, four students were killed by the Ohio National Guard protesting U.S. bombing of Cambodia) and fucking the government killing people and things just getting out of hand. You don’t have the right protest like you might in France or England. If you get too out of hand, they’ll just teargas your ass.
DC: It’s a tricky dance there when you write political songs.
DL: Well, yeah, you want to appeal to everyone, obviously, but you can’t help be moved by certain things. I love that quote where Nina Simone says, ‘It’s our responsibility as artists to write about the things that are happening around us,’ and inform people if we have the resources to do so. Artists provoke thought, at the very least, because that’s where ideas come from and change comes from is from simple thought. I mean, the world has never been more liberal than it is right now. We’re going in a very liberal direction. And sometimes I don’t always agree 100 percent with that, either, but I think it’s better to raise awareness and thought, call things out, rather than ignore them and pretend like nothing’s happening. All these Netflix documentaries coming out; I don’t know if you saw ‘The Keepers’ about Joseph Maskell, this guy who ended up murdering a nun because she discovered he was raping children. And then the Catholic Church is covering it up. Instead of being reprimanded, they just moved him to a different place.
DC: That’s status quo.
DL: Yeah. You see, I didn’t know that kind of shit. I mean, I knew that that happened, I just didn’t even realize how little they did about that kind of stuff. It’s like, you don’t do anything to change the situation, you sweep it under the rug; and you, in fact, help these people to continue what they want to do.
DC: Are you going in with session musicians? Are you going to have your band?
DL: I’ll have my band, The Pollies. They’ve been playing with me for a couple of years now. I’ve known those guys for 15 years. I’ve known Jon and Jay and Clint for a long time; Spencer, the bass player, I met him just a few years ago but he fits like a glove. He’s one of us, for sure. That band, man, we’ve been through a lot together and I just feel like we can make a really great record together.
I feel like we have a good connection on stage and off, which is really unusual. And we love each other and we care about each other and I think it shows in our music, and people really think about what we’re doing. They put a lot of work in my things and I really appreciate that.
DC: So, you have a song and then do you work on it in a group? Do you work together on the songs and they’ll add to it?
DL: Sometimes. I mean, we wrote one song kind of as a group. I had the progression and then we worked out the progression, and then I wrote all the lyric for it. So that was cool. We did a bunch of songs. I wrote the song and brought it to them and then we flushed it out as a band. That’s usually how it goes. I’ll write the lyric and then we’ll figure, well, what are we going to do here, what are you going to play, you know. Or Jay will come up with a part on the guitar, and Clint will do a little whirly thing.
We have a little demo studio in Muscle Shoals that we’ll go into and start recording demos of these songs, and start working out the kinks and figure out what sounds good here and there. That really helps figure out what sounds good because the recordings don’t lie, obviously. So, you can figure out what’s working and what’s not. We do that a lot.
And then we go out and play these songs live and check out how the audience responds to it. And then we get a feel for what’s good that way. Are people really into it, or do they start meandering during the song? I watch that. But, yeah, that’s our M.O., that what we do.
DC: When you are writing a song, do lyrics come first, the melody?
DL: The melody and the phrasing always comes first. The melody and the phrasing and the cadence of the way I’m going to sing this line and this verse – that always hits me first. And then I’m basically struggling to say what I want to say within this phrasing and within this piece there. To me, phrasing is extremely important in songs ’cause it’s what makes the words and the melody get stuck in somebody’s head. It’s not about so much about what you’re saying as it is how you’re saying it, and the way you’re singing it.
And melody is extremely important to me. I think that it doesn’t really matter what you’re saying if you don’t have a good melody to go behind it, you’re not going to reach that person. So, you’ve got to make sure that it’s an earworm. You should throw earworms as much as you can. I mean everywhere; on the guitar, in the vocals, in the chorus. The harmonies we do in something memorable, you’re trying to hook people with anyway you can because that’s what makes a listener crave the song and want to hit the back button and listen to it again. That’s what makes me crave a song and I can only go off of what I like, you know, so little things like that.
One of my favorite songs ever recorded is that song, ‘Baltimore,’ by Nina Simone. It’s like a reggae beat and it’s a Randy Newman song. It’s about the city of Baltimore. It’s a fucking great song, man. She has this reggae beat and this really funky, chanky guitar playing and the bass line is just amazing – follows the kick drum – and it’s just a really tight groove. And then she has this beautiful string section playing in the background, which to me is amazing that nobody’s done that before, like, played a beautiful string section over a reggae song.
That song is incredible, and the production is incredible and the musicianship is incredible. And there’s this little thing happening in that song that makes you, like, ‘Wow!’ When the chorus opens up and then you hear that guitar coming with the ‘ch-ch, ch; ch-ch, ch.’ And that just hooks you, man. Then, you know, that huge, like, ‘doo-do do dooo,’ and then she sings, ‘Oh, Baltimore…’ It’s just so fucking real and fucking raw and good. I love the way those records sound, sonically. I almost can’t stand to hear the way new records, sonically, sound because they’re so over compressed and processed with this digital shit that it just waters it down; drum machines and all that and everybody’s so in love with all that shit and I just can’t, I can’t get up-to-date with it.
I love the organic sound of an instrument; you get little bits of people’s personality in their playing that you just don’t get out of that digitized stuff. And I can enjoy it, too, but it doesn’t make me want to go back to it years and years and years later to try to listen to that piece of people that gets left into the recording. It’s what they’re playing, man. No one, real musician sounds like another. James Burton sounds like James Burton, you know, James Jamerson sounds like James Jamerson. Carol Kaye sounds like Carol Kaye. You know, Leon Russell sounds like Leon Russell. You can tell their personalities; it’s the small things. It’s the small details that make records so great.
DC: Do you record on tape?
DL: Yeah. Every single thing, man. We do bounce tape down to Pro Tools after, and we’ll mix down from the tape. But while we’re recording, it’s strictly a tape. It’s really neat because it reveals how far along you are and it makes you reach down and become better when you aren’t even sure if you are that good. Like I listen to songs like ‘Kodachrome’ (Paul Simon). And when I’m recording, I do it completely analogue; I do it exactly like those people did. I make records like those people made records and it really makes me appreciate the fucking musicianship that those people have because you have to be really good to make a record sound great. Your time, your tempo has to be great. You’ve got to be creative and innovative. You’ve got to work the mic. You actually have to work that microphone. You back up if you want it to be a little bit less loud in volume. There’s just certain things about that that are so much more fun when you’re making a mix and making a record. It’s just cool.
And then you listen to ‘Kodachrome.’ That song is like ’How did y’all make that fucking masterpiece on an 8-track? How did y’all do that?’ And a lot of that – it’s just them playing live – ’cause you only had eight tracks. The drums and the bass are in one track. Just one. And then you’ve got to, like, fucking think about it and be like, ‘Okay, we’re going to do the drums and bass cut to this track. We’re going to split this track and do vocal and have the background singers in the chorus. And we’re going to have the room mics over here, all on this track. You’d never put room mics on a vocal track because, one, it would bleed over. And then you’ve got your keyboard tracks and strings on track four. I mean, you play it fucking live, man. Or, you play this live and then you record over on track four and have them overdub the keys. And then you can split that track. And then you bounce down the tape. That’s where bouncing down to Pro Tools is really cool because when you run out of tracks, if you want to put a bunch of shit in, say, you just can’t play it live, then you bounce down to Pro Tools and then we’ll open up like another few tracks. That’s usually how I do it.
But back in the day, there was no Pro Tools and there were no computers. You just had to play it live and that’s why that’s why that shit is so fucking good.
DC: How did you come to reside in Breaux Bridge/Lafayette?
DL: I met this guy named Caleb Elliott. Are you familiar with Caleb Elliott? (DC: Oh, yeah.) I played at the Blue Moon. I had some shows. (DC: Where were you based?) I was living in Nashville. And I had booked a tour and I did the Blue Moon. And Todd Mouton, you know him? (DC: Oh, yeah.) Todd was kind of helping Elliott at the time. And he was like, ‘Hey, man. I’m bringing my friend Caleb to the show. Check him out. If you want him to sit in on cello with you that would be really cool, he’s really great.’ And I was like, ‘Ehh, that’s just kind of weird.’ You know, like, ‘I don’t know him. We’ve never played together.’ And he was like, ‘Just send him a couple of songs.’ So I sent him like four or five songs and he learned them, which was really cool to me that he took the time to learn them really well. And he just played them really well when we played live and I was like, ‘Hey, man. I’m playing in Austin. I have a couple more gigs. You want to just jump in the car and fuckin’ finish them out. And he was like, ‘Fuck it. Why not? I’ve got nothing to do.’ After that, we just started playing together. (DC: And how long ago was that?) That was in 2014. So after 2014, me and him were like birds – we just fuckin’ hung out all the time – two peas in a pod there for a little while.
Then I started writing Cautionary Tale and he played on the record. So then, the story of how I got here, I met Jen Gray. She needed help on her farm and Caleb was staying out there, so that’s how I met her. And she was needing help on her farm and I was going through a break-up at the time. And so I was like, ‘I’m ready to leave Muscle Shoals’ ’cause I was living in Muscle Shoals at that point – and come down somewhere else, just for a fresh start. And I just came down here and started living in her big house and she was basically like, ‘You can work on the farm, just pay the utilities, and you can stay here.’ It was such a great farm, just write songs, work in the day, I’d write at night. Caleb was in and out doing his thing. And so I just fell in love with this place. I fell in love with Breaux Bridge and I fell in love with Lafayette and the culture and the music and the dancing, you know. I just love it. I didn’t want to leave.
DC: It either grabs you or it doesn’t.
DL: Yeah. I love it.
DC: All that creative stuff just seems to come up from the ground.
DL: There’s so much that time hasn’t touched here like other places, you know, that makes me enjoy the atmosphere and enjoy the culture and the scenery. Even the dispositions of people, it seems, time hasn’t even touched. The way people interact here is different from the way people interact in other places. People are very open here, lively and welcoming and enjoyable. You see people talking and communicating and not so much staring at a phone sitting at the table with one another. And that grabbed me. I was like ‘Wow. Here’s a place where people are still very much in tune with one another and communicating and dancing and laughing.’ Living in small, rural Alabama town where everybody kind of keeps to themself and does their own thing and goes to church on Sunday, you know. It’s very syllabus religious. What’s the right word? I mean it’s like this religious lingering thing in the air. People are very polite but it’s almost like infused with this weird judgmental thing. I got so fed up with the pretense of all that. And then here, it’s just like you don’t even talk about that. I mean everybody’s either Catholic or they’re not. They don’t give a fuck, you know. It’s like they don’t care, it’s like, ‘Hey, we’re going to have a good time on Saturday and then Sunday, we’ll deal with tomorrow, tomorrow.’ I like that.
I love Muscle Shoals, it’s great town. And it’s a great town for getting music done and recording records. But as far as a social atmosphere, there’s slim to none. Even though it’s getting better, you know, over the years, it’s gotten a lot better. But at the time when I was there and growing up… And being from Louisiana, I’ve always gravitated back toward it. It’s because, and I’m not even a social fucking person, you know what I mean? I’m probably one of those anti-social people you’ll ever meet, but I just really enjoy being around other social people. It’s just a lot of muse here that I find.
DC: Keeping that in mind and going to Nashville and not getting lost in the shuffle, here you kind of got this community you were just talking about. Have you thought about that? Are you going to get lost – not that you don’t know what you’re doing – but lost in The Machine?
DL: You know what’s weird? The way I’ve always operated, it’s different for me because I have never succumbed to any one scene; I’ve always sort of done my thing. So, for me, I’ve never identified with The Machine to get lost in. You know what I mean? I don’t identify with that, nor do people identify me with that. So I think people look at me as a separate entity, which is really nice and I’ve designed it that way.
So, as far as The Machine, I’ve never been a part of it so there’s never something for me to get lost in, if you know what I mean.
Up there, I do my own thing like I do here. I go up there I know my people and I have my people and I kind of hang with them. And I meet new people, but I just go up there to work. That’s why I’m there, basically, is just to work. We write songs for film and TV and for other people. I do stuff like that. It’s just a good place for me to be at the moment and spend at least half of my time there. But its never been a place where I thought I was going to stay forever, even though I do like Nashville.
Now, it’s cooler than it’s ever been. And there’s a growing community of camaraderie and support there that I’ve noticed. It’s like all these young people. And luckily, after touring, I lived there in 2013 and 2014 and I didn’t know anybody there. But now that I’ve kind of made a name for myself, it’s easier for me, and I’ve also toured a lot and met a lot of people who live in Nashville and made friends. So it’s like, ‘Hey, man. What’s up?’ So I can go to a coffee shop and there’s Lera Lynn – people I’ve known for years – Kenny Vaughan, Buddy Miller, all those guys who are hanging around. Cool, cool people who make great records. And I’ve just been lucky enough to sort of slip my way in the back of this scene. And the attitude of the people there is different than it used to be. It’s not so cutthroat. It’s like, ‘Hey, man. We’re all in this together.’
And I think everybody also has an attitude of like they want to be polite because they know that you could probably do something for them; you can probably help them in some way. So, that, too. Everybody’s pretty cool, man. It’s an interesting scene. It’s a good scene.

Post Script
Dylan LeBlanc on the South Louisiana culture
It blows my mind the quality of musicianship in this town. Everybody is really good at what they do because you can tell they just live it daily and breathe it. They are fucking music.
It’s like a well-kept secret, almost. Even though it’s not and we do get tons of tourists here. A lot of people from up north, like people from Jersey and people from New York, they come down here to enjoy the culture and the atmosphere. It’s a Mecca for culture and music. People just don’t get it until they come here and then they go, ‘Wow!’
You just can’t get that anywhere else. You can’t eat that fucking plate of food that is amazing and listen to this band who sounds just as good as anyone standing at Broadway at Robert’s Western World, you know, playing the shit out of the pedal steel; playing the fuck out of an electric guitar; singing their ass off playing killer tunes, great country songs. Dancing, laughing, drinking, you know, having fun. It’s just a fun fucking place to be around. People just don’t get it.
If you’re too involved in their own ego, this place is not for you. I will say that. If you’re too involved in your own identity and your own story, don’t come here because it’s not for you. But if you can step outside of yourself and try to be a part of the culture and sort of observe as a visitor, as someone enjoying it, you’re going to love it.

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Ardoin and Ledet nab Grammy noms; Loreauville’s Marshall (Black Pumas) back for another, too

Corey Ledet / Dominick Cross, photo

LAFAYETTE, LA (BHP) — It’s not their first rodeo and while they’re not quite back in the saddle again, they do have one boot in the stirrups as Acadiana’s Sean Ardoin and Corey Ledet and their zydeco music releases are nominated for 2022 Grammy awards in the Best Regional Roots Music Album category.

Ardoin’s “Live in New Orleans!” and Ledet’s “Corey Ledet Zydeco” were tapped.

The Black Pumas, of Austin, Texas, with Loreauville native and keyboardist JaRon Marshall in tow, were nominated in the Best Rock Album category with album “Capitol Cuts: Live from Studio A.”

In addition, their song “Know You Better” from that album is up for Best Rock Performance.

Ardoin was nominated for a Grammy in 2018 in two categories: Best American Roots Performance for “Kick Rocks” and Best Regional Roots Music Album for “Kreole Rock and Soul.”

Ledet’s “Nothing’ But the Best” was nominated in 2012 in the Best Regional Roots Music Album category.

The Black Pumas were nominated last year for Best New Artist in their category.

Best Regional Roots Music Album For albums containing at least 51% playing time of new vocal or instrumental regional roots music recordings.

Live In New Orleans!
Sean Ardoin And Kreole Rock And Soul 

Bloodstains & Teardrops
Big Chief Monk Boudreaux 

My People
Cha Wa 

Corey Ledet Zydeco
Corey Ledet Zydeco 

Kau Ka Pe’a
Kalani Pe’a

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Drew Landry and quite the cast at Blue Moon Tuesday night

Drew Landry will be joined by a host of musicians, Tuesday (Nov. 23) at the Blue Moon

By Dominick Cross

LAFAYETTE, LA — It’ll be an interesting evening at the Blue Moon come Tuesday, November 23, 2021, when Drew Landry returns home for “A Rinky-Dink Reunion Show” at the Blue Moon.

A native of Scott, Louisiana, the singer/songwriter has lived in Montana since 2016. In addition to the gig, he’s wrapping up work on a recording, and, of course, checking in with friends and family.

“I’m just going home to have a good time with some old friends; whether it’s the cats I served in the National Guard with, or folks that hung out at the bars around the year 2000,” Landry said. “It’s really about kind of a little dysfunctional family reunion.”

A Rinky-Dink Reunion Show, 7:30 pm
The Blue Moon Saloon
215 E. Convent St.
Lafayette, La
337.234.2422

Actually, there’s way more to it than that, especially regarding the Blue Moon gig where Landry “Invited a bunch of songwriters that we used to play together” from his Rinky-Dink days, a bar he owned. And that would be Steve Judice, Blake Simon, Chris Breaux, Jason Harrington, Matt Breaux & Jake Stephens.

The Songwriter Showcase opens the three-prong event at 7:30 p.m.

It’s not too often your mom opens for you (except in South Louisiana, that is), as Becca & the Band Ades follows. Becca Begnaud is Landry’s mother. Prong II.

Landry said he “then threw a band together that’s willing to wing-out some of my new songs and I’d love to see what people think about them,” he said.

And it’s a pick-up band anyone would like to have as it includes Lee Allen Zeno, Clint Redwing, Eric Adcock, Ken Veron, Jason Meaux & Blake Simon. Prong III.

“We’ll do a set of some of the new songs and some of the old stuff,” he said. “It’s just about getting back to Lafayette, seeing who’s still around and playing some music for some good folks I haven’t seen for a while.”

While Landry has gigs here and there in Montana, his day job is an Extension Agent with the USDA to work with the Blackfeet Nation. He is a dad and also acting director of Montana Missing Indigenous Persons reporting portal, MMIPMT.com.

Landry lives on the east side of Glacier National Park these days.

“The summers are great, the winters are pretty tough and being a dad is awesome,” he said. “But at the same time, I’ve got a couple of records in the bag and I’m getting them mixed and mastered. I’m excited about getting back to playing music.”

In addition to Tuesday’s gig at the Blue Moon, Landry will also head to Dockside Studios to complete an album.

“We’ve got one done at Dockside and another one I recorded in Nashville and I’m excited about getting those songs out there,” said Landry.

On the release is a song about missing Native American women.

“We’re going to put out a video for that one,” he said. “We got a grant from the Department of Justice here, we closed it out in June. We built a reporting portal and a data base (www.MMIPMT.com) and now we’re getting the tribes in Montana – all the Tribal Nations on board – which we’re working on getting by December 15.

“And then early next year, we’re going to start promoting this way of reporting cases and I think it’s going to make a difference, hopefully saving a few lives.”

Levon Helm’s “Hurricane” is covered by Landry (and others) for a film he’s working on to address Hurricane Ida.

“I was working on recording that song for a soundtrack for a film I’ve been working on called, ‘Restoration.’ When the storm hit, I was like, ‘Let’s see if we can raise a few bucks for this nonprofit,’ so we put it out there. I think we got about $500 raised, so I’m going to give that lady her money back in Louisiana for the song.

“At least people paid for a song,” he quipped. “That’s a change.”

Landry is referring to Tracy Coonz and her GO FISH (Gulf Organized Fisheries in Solidarity and Hope), a 501(c)3 non-profit coalition of grassroots organizations from across the Gulf Coast that banded together after the Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill to advocate for the rights of fishing families, protect and restore the fisheries, fisheries habitat, and fishing community culture.

“Those are the same folks that live south of New Orleans, you know, the levees — it’s great they held up for New Orleans,” he said. “But it’s almost more detrimental to folks that had a boats in the water below New Orleans.”

At Dockside, Landry is working on a release addressing such issues.

“During and after the oil spill, we recorded with Dr. John,” said Landry. “Bobby Charles has always been one of my heroes and so we kind of revived the idea of doing this environmental album. We put out this EP on it, but I think a feature-length album that also could be part of a curriculum where we could work on sustainability, that’s the deal. That’s what we need to do.”

Looks good on paper, “Unfortunately, you can’t do anything without it being a political deal, whether it’s COVID or hurricanes or oil spills,” he said. “It seems like people have to take a side on every freakin’ thing. You just can’t be logical.”

Landry’s output includes the CDs “Keep What’s Left,” “Tailgaten Relief & Hurricane Companion,” and “Share-Cropper’s Whine.” His “BP Blues” charity single routed money to folks who needed help with health issues on the coast following the disastrous oil spill in 2010.

With his Lafayette gig just hours away, Landry cannot recall his last show in his hometown.

“I honestly do not remember,” he said “I really don’t.”

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Good deed, hold the punishment; fundraising project nets Grammy nomination for Sweet Cecilia

From a Festivals Acadiens et Creoles, from left, Laura Berard Huval, Callie Guidry, Maegan Berard Rankin, and Al Berard/D.Cross photo

By DOMINICK CROSS

A cool thing about Sweet Cecilia’s 2020 Grammy nomination for their album, “A Tribute to Al Berard,” is that it has all the earmarks of good karma if only for its good intentions from the outset.

And that’s to say that all proceeds from its sales go the Al Berard Memorial Music Fund at Community Foundation of Acadiana.

“It was never about money, obviously,” said Laura Berard Huval, one of three women, who, with her sister Maegan Berard Rankin and their cousin, Callie Guidry, make up Sweet Cecilia. “It was just about how we can help the community, how we can honor dad, include some of his past Basin Brother members to be on the album.

“It was really like healing for us,” she said of the album of her late father’s songs.

Al “Pyook” Berard, who died unexpectedly at age 54 on February 26, 2014, was himself nominated for a Grammy in 1990 with the Basin Brothers in the Best Folk Album category. Berard, fiddler extraordinaire and master of the guitar and mandolin, and mentor to countless folks, was also known for his passion for all things Cajun and Creole.

“Our goal was to never do anything except to honor dad’s legacy and his great music and the songs that he wrote,” Huval said. “So, how awesome.”

“We’ve all been so emotional. We did it all for daddy, just like Laura said,” Rankin said. “It’s a really pure feeling. It’s the most amazing feeling in the world that we can honor his legacy.”

The Al Berard Memorial Music Fund at Community Foundation of Acadiana promotes Acadiana’s musical culture by providing instruments, master teachers, and music scholarships to students of all ages.

In addition, the Threadhead Cultural Foundation in New Orleans, helped fund the project. 

The Grammy nomination on November 24, 2020, in the Best Regional Roots category, came as a surprise to the band.

Laura Berard Huval/D.Cross photo

“Well, I’ll be honest, I did not think we had a shot,” said Huval. “We were up against people that had been nominated before; big names in Cajun and zydeco music. We just thought, ‘Let’s just submit it and, you know, we’ll see what happens.’

“I can say that I was genuinely shocked that we got the nomination. And I think a lot of people were,” said Huval. “It was so unexpected.”

Rankin said the day the nominations were to be announced, “I forgot about it. Laura called like 10 minutes before they were going to announce our category.

“My little baby’s running around and I’m, ‘Oh, let me put the computer on,’” Rankin said. “It was so funny. In the back of my head, the whole scene. Look at this, you know, a mama. Us being mamas like that and just really, I don’t know,” she laughed. “We’re not rock stars. It was just funny. I was still in my gown at 11 a.m. with my baby and I just found out we got nominated for a Grammy Award.”

Sweet Cecilia, a country, rock, folk and Cajun-influenced trio, formed in 2011 and released their first recording, a self-titled CD, in 2015. Three more have followed, including “Sweet Christmas” where “Jingle Bells” will never be the same — and that’s not a bad thing, either.

All the women are vocalists and their three-part harmonies are not to be missed. Or, as music writer Dan Willging penned in OffBeat wrote in his 2017 review of “Sing Me A Story”: “…Sweet Cecilia’s collective, often breathtaking vocals that are really what’s on tap, sometimes with wall-pinning harmonies and other times with swirling, lush background vocals that submerge you into momentary oblivion.”

Huval plays mandolin and acoustic guitar; Rankin plays electric and acoustic guitars and bass; Guidry is on drums and percussion.

Al Berard/D.Cross photo

Lafayette’s two-time Grammy winner in the Contemporary Christian Music Album category, Lauren Daigle, made the announcement, much to Huval’s pleasure.

“Look. I’m obsessed with with Lauren Daigle, okay? So she’s the one who announced it so it was even extra special,” said Huval.

Three songs from the Basin Brothers’ Grammy nominated album, “Let’s Get Cajun,” are on ‘Tribute.’

“It’s so cool,” said Huval. “Like wow.”

The process of going through Berard’s vast genre-jumping repertoire and picking songs for ‘Tribute’ wasn’t an easy task.

“It was hard to choose songs,” said Guidry. “There were a few that were attempted, but, some of them didn’t quite work out. But what came out was a masterpiece, if you ask me.”

Huval said the chosen songs were recorded and they found some worked better than others.

“Eventually, it just all ended up to where it was all Cajun songs,” said Huval.

Rankin said her father’s guitar album, “his masterpiece guitar album, he had some songs on there that we wanted to try to play. One song is called, ‘Count on Me.’

“I had this idea that I wanted to play it on piano and have it sung like an acoustic Lady Gaga style,” said Rankin. “That’s how it started off. He had so many beautiful songs, but exactly like Laura said, the best ones ended up being all Cajun.”

“That was really important to us growing up,” Huval said. “Some people may not know that about us, but Cajun music fed us. Literally. I mean, my dad toured, he played Cajun music his whole life. So, I think it honors that as well.

“That’s who we are. We may not play Cajun music all the time, but it’s who we are. It’s in our blood,” she said. “And I think it was just daddy, definitely his spirit, guided all those choices that we made.”

The project began in 2018 and there was no question that Berard’s studio at his home in Cecilia would be ground zero.

“I was still in my gown at 11 a.m. with my baby and I just found out we got nominated for a Grammy Award.”

Maegan Berard Rankin

“We definitely wanted to embody his spirit there,” said Huval. “And, also, logistically, because our kids, you know, our moms could help us. It was like the whole family helping out during the recording.”

And there was some really big help in having Tony Daigle, six-time Grammy Award winning recording engineer (with some 22 nominations), on the boards. His wins came in the form of three B.B. King recordings, and one each for BeauSoleil, Jo-El Sonnier and John Cleary.

Daigle has worked with the band over the years as well as Berard.

“Tony Daigle,” said Huval. “God bless Tony. He’s the bomb. He’s the best.”

The feelings are mutual.

“They’re amazing. The music inside their bones is just immense,” Daigle said of Sweet Cecilia. “They’re humble and they treat their music with a lot of respect. And I just love that about them.”

Daigle brought his gear to Al Berard Recording Studio because the late musician’s equipment wasn’t up to date and pretty much obsolete. The bulk of the album was recorded there.

“It was a great thing recording at Al’s studio,” Daigle said. “At first it seemed like a bit of overkill to haul all that stuff over there. But when we were there, we all realized, like, wow, this is just…,” he paused. “It brought our spirits up, man. It made us think about the cause, what we were doing.

“It was great,” he said, adding that rice and gravy by Karleen Berard “was the best rice and gravy ever, man.”

“Without him, this would not have happened,” Huval said of the album, the nomination. “And his saying ‘yes’ to this project. He was in it just like we were. His heart and soul was in it and we are blessed to have him in our lives. He’s amazing.”

Maegan Berard Rankin/D.Cross photo

The rest of the recording was at Electric Comoland (or Comoland), Daigle’s studio in Lafayette, La. It is named after the late multi-instrumentalist and physician, Tommy Comeaux, who was accidentally killed riding his bike in 1997.

“Right before Tommy died, we were getting ready to probably do a studio together,” said Daigle. “We’d become partners in the studio world and were thinking about it.

“Man, about two weeks before died, we were sitting around: ‘What are we going to name it?’” Daigle said. “And he made a joke about naming it Electric Comoland, like, you know, Jimi Hendrix’s Electric Ladyland (Hendrix’s last studio album in his lifetime).

“And we left it at that,” he said. “And then he got killed.”

Daigle bought some of Comeaux’s studio gear from his father, “and from that point on, I said, ‘Well, I’m just going to name it Electric Comoland.”

At first, Daigle tangled with some mixed feelings about the name because of its similarity to Hendrix’s Electric Lady Studio.

“But,” said Daigle. “I said, ‘Aw, screw it. This is for Tommy.’ That’s going to be how I’ll remember Tommy and how the spirit stays with me through all this.”

Surprisingly, or not, Daigle is up for two Grammy Awards as he also mixed and mastered Cameron Dupuy’s self-titled nominated album which is also in Regional Roots. It was recorded by Brian Brignac (a drummer for Sonny Landreth) in Gonzales.

“My involvement was sort of 50 percent there, maybe a little less,” Daigle said. “Cameron’s the real deal. Ain’t no doubt, man. He’s a young prodigy on accordion. The band is stunning, it’s just a great band.”

But with Sweet Cecilia, “It was absolutely fully all done by me,” he said. “It’s kind of my baby.”

Daigle said he felt good about Sweet Cecilia’s ‘Tribute’ nomination, “because I thought that record is worthy of a nomination,” he said, adding that sometimes name recognition alone can net a win.

“A few months ago, I dreamed about it when I was awake,” said Daigle. “When the Grammys start approaching, you start thinking, ‘What do I have that might have a chance?’ And that record was one of them.

“In my opinion, that’s the perfect record for the Regional Roots category,” he said. “It’s just a perfect record. It’s all original songs, it’s got a special value about it in terms what it’s all about. And it’s pretty cool.”

Daigle said he put some time into “Saute La Barriere” (“Jump the Fence”) and he did so “with absolute total passion because I love it so much.”

The original version of the song “is a basic Cajun kind of tune,” said Daigle. “We changed it to more of a kind of hard blues groove.” He then brought Berard’s original into the process “and I made it fit our new groove. So you’re hearing Al’s original recording inside of there, but it’s totally not the same groove as the original.

“Then we expanded on it, we built onto it and made it just a completely different element, but still having Al in there playing fiddle,” he said.

And the later, Usie’s drum work on “Jump the Fence” was recorded at Dockside Studio in Maurice.

In fact, “Saute La Barriere” (Jump the Fence) is Rankin’s favorite on the recording.

“We did some crazy stuff with it. I think it’s the most unique track on the record,” said Rankin.

Guidry agrees and adds another.

“I love ‘Saute.’ It’s rockin’,” said Guidry. “But I’ve always loved “Dans La Louisiane” because of the harmonies and because it’s so heartfelt.

Callie Guidry/D.Cross photo

“I can just feel him through that song; his love for his local community and the place he was born.”

Huval’s fave is “Fais Do Do Waltz.”

“That was recorded, originally, back in the mid-90s. My dad and Errol Verret did an album and my mom actually sang that song with him,” said Huval. “So it’s always been my favorite growing up; remembering that experience when they were recording it.

“And the song is beautiful. I mean…” she sighed. “It makes me happy to hear it and how we changed it.”

On “Sing Me a Song, Dad,” the trio is reunited with Berard.

“We sing with him. When I hear it, it just gets me every single time,” said Huval. “It’s like, wow, we get to sing with our dad again that way. It’s so special. It’s amazing.”

The 63rd Grammy Awards January 31, 2021, will probably be another event that falls victim to the coronavirus/COVID-19 pandemic and go virtual.

“Well, I’ll say this because I’m the oldest. I’m over 40 and I’m not mad,” said Guidry as her first cousins couldn’t quite suppress their laughter. “I’m not mad about not having to go buy a dress and look pretty and be presentable and wear heels.

“I’m not mad,” she said. “But, of course, I would love to go. But this is the circumstances and we’re fine with it either way.”

After regaining their composure, Huval and Rankin concurred.

In the Best Regional Roots Album category, Sweet Cecilia is joined by Cameron Dupuy and the Cajun Troubadours/“Cameron Dupuy and the Cajun Troubadours” and the New Orleans Nightcrawlers/“Atmosphere,” both out of New Orleans; Black Lodge Singers/“My Relatives ‘Niko Kowaiks” and Na Wai ‘Eha/“Lovely Sunrise.”

Guest musicians on Sweet Cecilia’s ‘Tribute’ include Huval’s husband, Adrian Huval, Kyle Hebert, Dwayne Brasseaux, Keith Blanchard, Karleen Berard, Laura Huval’s and Rankin’s mother; Gary Usie, Shane Guidry, Ronnie Eades, and James Spells.

Brasseaux and Blanchard were members of the Basin Brothers with Berard. They appear on “La Valse de Cecilia” (“Cecilia Waltz”).

“It really was a family affair,” Huval said. “It was beautiful. There was no pressure to do anything except this was going to be a fundraiser for the Al Berard Foundation.”

All three women are well aware of who put them on the music road and map.

“We have Al Berard to be thankful for. He put us together, really,” said Rankin. “We were his backing band for his guitar band. That’s how it started.”

“I have to say, Pyook took a big chance on me,” Guidry said. “I had a drum set in my room, but I would just play for fun. I never played in front of another human being. And he put me on stage with him as the drummer of his guitar band.

“So that’s how much faith he had in me. And that’s what I feel as a music teacher; I want my students to feel that I have that much faith in them,” Guidry continued. “Because that’s all it takes is somebody to believe in you and you can do amazing things.”

Huval added, “That’s exactly how daddy was,” she said. “So many people have said, ‘If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be playing music.’”

“So that’s how much faith he had in me. And that’s what I feel as a music teacher; I want my students to feel that I have that much faith in them.”

Callie Guidry
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Shane K. Bernard shines some new light on his late father, and pioneer of swamp pop, Rod Bernard

Rod Bernard (August 12, 1940 – July 12, 2020)

By Dominick Cross

When Rod Bernard died this month, swamp pop music lost a pioneer and Shane K. Bernard lost a father.

Bernard, who died July 12, 2020, was 79.

For me, as a journalist, one of the biggest drags of the occupation is to interview the friends, and, especially, family members of someone who has died. I’ve always been uncomfortable with such an assignment; they’ve always made me feel like an interloper.

So when I hadn’t heard back from Shane K. Bernard after a few days, I was quietly relieved. Still, I was content to talk to others about his father and had enough for a story.

And then he returned the call.

Bernard apologized and said he had been dealing with the details and such related to his father’s passing. For me, it is totally understandable and no apology necessary.

In the process of our conversation, Bernard began talking about his father’s death, and I mean the moment thereof, and I felt he needn’t recall the ordeal; I didn’t want to put him through it again.

According to Shane Bernard, Rod Bernard worked in radio and television for his entire life. He landed his first radio program on KSLO around age 10, and for many years in the 1960s he deejayed, sold airtime, and served as a program director at KVOL radio in Lafayette.

However, Bernard, historian and curator to McIlhenny Company and Avery Island, Inc., and author of several books, including Swamp Pop: Cajun and Creole Rhythm and Blues (University Press of Mississippi), saw it differently.

In an email after the interview, Bernard wrote: “By the way, I didn’t mind telling you about Dad’s final moments: the point of it was, he was fine one minute, walking around the house, and then short of breath the next. Within a minute or so he lost consciousness and never re-woke. He did not suffer, and went quickly. 

“I wouldn’t mind if his fans knew that, as I know it might give them some relief to know it was not a bad ending to his life.”

Rod Bernard’s death is not at all related to the coronavirus/COVID-19 pandemic.

“He’d been having trouble in recent months with his vocal cords just as far as speaking,” said Shane Bernard. “He didn’t speak above a loud whisper, if that’s such a thing. But he had good days and bad days.”

Bernard noted that his father’s last public performance was in 2015 at the Ponderosa Stomp, an American roots music festival. “And he was supposed to sing, as I remember, three songs. But he ran out of breath into the second song and managed to finish it.

Rod Bernard at the Ponderosa Stomp, October 2, 2015. Guitarist Charles Adcock in the background. Gene Tomko, photo

“But he couldn’t sing the third song,” said Bernard. “So he kind of gave up singing at that point.”

It would be the last time Rod Bernard would perform in public. However, it wasn’t the first time he’d stopped singing.

It was 1975 and “dad was still, you know, flirting with the idea of becoming a big star and he’d thought about moving to Nashville and that sort of thing,” said Shane Bernard.

In the meantime, Rod Bernard had a career going at KLFY-TV 10 that would go on for 30 years. He was an advertising executive and on-air talent, including the host of Saturday Hop, a teen dance program that once featured Little Richard with Jimi Hendrix in tow.

Rod Bernard and the Twisters.

The Bernards lived in Lafayette. A friend and neighbor was a Lafayette native who would move to Nashville and make a name for himself as a country music singer and songwriter.

Bernard said his father asked his friend to write him a song.

“My dad said, ‘If you could write me a hit song, I think that if I recorded it, it would restart my music career just because of the small amount of name recognition I already have from 1959,’” said Bernard, referring to the song “This Should Go On Forever” that put the local singer on Dick Clark’s TV program, American Bandstand.

The songwriter had written song that he believed to be a hit and gave it to his friend.

Rod Bernard recorded the song.

However, a session musician at the time, said Shane Bernard, also liked the song and wanted to record it himself.

This person, Bernard said, asked the recording engineer for a copy of the master tape and re-cut the song with his own band. He got the song leased to a major label “and it became a national hit,” said Bernard. “And, he released it before dad’s version.

“That’s not illegal, but it was highly unethical,” said Bernard. As a result, it managed to put an end to his father’s aspirations to go big time. “I noticed, all of a sudden, music wasn’t fun anymore after that.

“He did it for money, playing on the weekend, but he really didn’t enjoy it anymore,” the son said. “I never even really ever heard him listening to music all that much.”

About a decade later, Oscar “Ric” Bernard, who’d played lead guitar and bass in his brother Rod’s band, exacted a small measure of revenge on the singer who absconded with his brother’s song.

Oscar Bernard graduated as a physics major from University of Southwestern Louisiana and went to work for Boeing “and was subcontracted to NASA on the Apollo missions,” said Shane Bernard. “He’s just a brilliant guy.”

“I asked him for music lessons one time when I was in high school. I just wanted to learn how to play ‘Smoke on the Water,’” Bernard recalled. What he got instead was a lesson in music theory. “We never touched the guitar.”

Dick Clark, left, interviews Rod Bernard about his Top 20 hit, “This Should Go On Forever,”
on Dick Clark’s American Bandstand in 1959.

After Oscar Bernard left aerospace, he worked as a petroleum engineer and lived in Houston.

As it happened, Uncle Oscar was tooling around in his car and came upon a honky tonk with a familiar name on its marquee.

“It’s the guy who stole the song,” said Shane Bernard. “So Oscar stops and he goes in. And in-between songs, Oscar goes up to the guy.” He asked the singer if he recorded the song in question.

The singer was thrilled that he was remembered for the song.

“And Uncle Oscar says, ‘Well, I’m Rod Bernard’s brother.’ And the guy goes, ‘Aw, man. I’m so sorry about what happened,’” said Benard. “And then my uncle said, ‘Your mom must be proud of you.’ And then he walked out.”

Just prior to the unethical incident, the swamp pop crooner and the King of Zydeco, Clifton Chenier, got together to record “Boogie in Black & White,” a 10-song album with R&B, rock and roll and blues.

At the time of the 1976 recording, Chenier was in-between contracts, “So dad said, ‘Hey, man, while you’re free, could we do an album together because I’ve always wanted to do that because you’re one of my heroes,’” Bernard said. “They both grew up in Opelousas and they knew each other.”

Rod Bernard had a novel approach to the recording.

“Then dad says, ‘Let’s not even really rehearse. Let’s just get together and jam and we’ll do the cuts live. We won’t worry about messing up or anything.’ So that’s what happened.”

“If you notice,” he said. “There’s not zydeco or swamp pop. They’re sort of blues, ’50’s R&B recordings.”

The songs include “Kansas City,” “My Babe,” “Shake, Rattle & Roll,” “Baby, What You Want Me to Do?” and “My Babe,” and may well have been selected by Rod Bernard.

Shane Bernard said he found a song list the elder Bernard wrote in a notebook.

“So it looks like he was putting together a track listing of things he wanted to record,” said Bernard. “And he even wrote the lyrics down and the key of the song and everything. So that’s why I think he chose the tracks.”

In it’s own way, the album, recorded live over two-nights in Ville Platte for Floyd Soileau’s Jin label, was more than songs on vinyl, it was also a statement about race relations.

Music writer Michael Tisserand wrote: “The title of their project made it clear that the musicians had succeeded in crossing the color barrier.”

Zydeco and swamp pop legends got together, yet neither genre made the 1976 album.

And the racial make-up of the musicians on the album seem to back that up with Rod Bernard, vocals; Clifton Chenier, vocals/accordion; Warren Storm, drums; Cleveland Chenier, scrub board; Glenn Himel, piano; James Stelly, guitar; Joe Hill, bass; and John Hart, sax.

In his tribute to Bernard on the commission’s website blog, Herman Fuselier, music writer and executive director of the St. Landry Tourist Commission, also made note of the collaboration.

“The title raised some eyebrows as public schools had just been integrated six years earlier,” Fuselier wrote. Read more here.

While the originators of the swamp pop are aging (yet, some still recording, such as Tommy McClain with Warren Storm on drums) and, sadly, even dying (such as Huey “Cookie” Thierry, Lil’ Alfred, Clint West and Bobby Charles), what does the future portend for the genre?

“Actually, I find swamp pop to be in much better shape now than when I wrote my book (‘Swamp Pop,’ 1996). It seemed a lot closer to dying out back then,” said Bernard. “My wife is a big swamp pop fan and so are her parents. They’re from down around Franklin.”

Bernard said the Franklin area and Morgan City and “on the east side of the Atchafalaya, people are swamp pop nuts. Even today,” he said. “I can’t even explain it because, from my research, swamp pop seems to be born and developed primarily on the west side of the Atchafalaya and even as far west as East Texas.

“If I had to pinpoint an area where swamp pop came from, I would say it was around Opelousas, Eunice, that area,” Bernard continued. “That’s kind of borne out by Earl King who said that he first heard that sound in the Eunice area.”

Swamp pop gigs were regular at night clubs and dancehalls in the region and thereabouts, such as the Southern Club, the Green Lantern and the Step-In.

“Now, swamp pop is really big on the other side of the Atchafalaya while it’s not so big here anymore,” said Bernard, adding that a number of radio stations from Morgan City and eastward “play a huge amount of swamp pop.

“They have a lot of swamp pop concerts, a lot of swamp pop shows at night clubs, and you’ve got this younger generation (Ryan Foret & Foret Tradition) that came along,” he said. “And there are other second and third generation swamp pop bands that are very popular and very active from Morgan City east to the New Orleans area.”

While it has been some 45 years since Rod Bernard’s interest in music had waned, that all changed, and, not too long ago.

“He did start again, recently, because my son, who’s 15, is becoming a pretty good guitarist,” Bernard said. “So he and my dad would shut themselves up in a room at my house and listen to the blues and rhythm & blues from the ’50s, early ’60’s.

“It was basically my dad introducing my son to music that my dad really liked.”