It’s a well rounded end of week 3 in Nola, and as Hurricane Harvey pushes in to deluge the south into submission, I sit in EnVie Cafe on Decatur St drinking my cup o’ Joe.  What a week it’s been, definitely worked my way into the lifestyle of this place, Nola has engulfed me in her kind, warm arms. Monday is supposed to be my last day with Taylor in his digs in Uptown/Carrolton, but I am so distracted I msg and say can we arrange more time. Taylor is pretty cool and I am totally flexible, he has several Airbnb rooms and a couch so we can work out anything. I work out a new place to stay over in Mandeville st, north of Claiborne, which is a totally sketchier neighbourhood but walkable to Frenchmen st and The French Quarter. It’s fine though, I think I’ve had enough time here that I definitely have a feel for it, and the rhythm of this city. 

I literally have stopped adding anything to my list now as it’s incredibly long and detailed… now with notes of people and places and soundtrack and memories.  I feel I am starting to get sucked into this city and if I stay here much longer I fear I will never leave. I now know most of the scene, musos are starting to recognise me on the street, “Bassplayer, right?” ha, and the swing dance Krewe all know me for a chat and a dance now, doormen don’t ask me for ID, just warm nod. I chat with Rhonda the Doorwoman at Negril on Frenchmen st, I’ve been there a lot in the last few weeks, and saw a great blues act there on Wed night. Rhonda is a badass, not only does she do door, she does bass as well. The Professor (on bass) invites her up to do a spot, she funks and slaps it up like a champ! it seems everyone local in this town has at least 4 talents and then there is the other stuff they do! I think I would fit right in… ha ha

Late that night, end up at the Apple Barrell, and meet Windex Pete who is playing is washboard with 2 metal forks outside to the funky bluesy tunes.. soon he is joined by the bassplayer on the street who has a wireless lead system (and it’s a slow tues), soon a few tourist are partying with them, dancing and Windex Pete is encouraging everyone one to have a go at the washboard with various drunken versions of success/failure… ha ha

Head out and catch a few groups/bands, trios, brass, funk, they are all starting to blurr into one… New Orleans is just one great pot of venues, night after night, day after day of bands playing various times, all day, every day. It’s crazy to think that a place of this small size can support so many musicians and venues.  Some venues have 3 bands a day, lunch arvo shift, evening shift and late night shift. Pretty much live entertainment for about 12 hours a day in many venues within walkable distance of each other. Crazy when you think about Sydney or Wollongong in comparison.

Delicious Wild Mushroom Gnocchi starter, Blackened Redfish, Shrimp and Grits, with sides of Sweet Potato mash and grilled Asparagus, and a great wine.  We decided to get a bit dressed up, the first time that I have pulled out the Damn Fine outfit on this entire trip, and lucky I did as Tomahawk is gorgeous in a vintage pink ruffled summer dress, but is still funky enough to rock up on her vintage bicycle. We cycle around the city afterwards and she shows me a few places I haven’t been before. When your guide to the city is this funky, social and sexy, the city that never stops, is such an appealing place.

The next week became a blur, stirring the pot with many of my new friends, and getting to more gigs and dances in all my favourite venues.  Highlights were getting into Preservation Hall with Tomahawk to see the best and most authentic New Orleans jazz musicians! amazing gig in a hall that literally played the first jazz gigs…(I thought it was going to be a huge concert hall, but it was a tiny un-aircondiitioned hall the size of a lounge room, and so hard to book in for)

Ok 2 weeks have gone by and the gloss, glow and the flash-in-the-pants romance have dithered away, I’m beginning pull back your skin Nola and to see the flesh beneath.  Somehow I don’t think I’ll have time to make it to the bone and see the real heart of you... yet. My list has now been ticked off more than new things being added, but I am still running into interesting people who wryly find me something to add to what has become a great list (I may publish it at the end of this trip)

It’s monday so that means D-Macs Blues jam, I intend heading there straight after Dragon’s, but walk up Frenchmens and contemplate an Uber, but as I walk passed Apple Barrell/Adolfos, a solo bluesy guy is laying down some slide, I duck in the door as I always do now, lean on the rail, he’s fun and his style is right up my alley. He finishes a song, I clap, without even thinking about it he asks if I want to jam (I have the bass over my shoulder), “Alright! let’s do this.” and as I agree a sax player walks in the door and was liking it too, he joins us. I quickly set up my bass and plug staight into the PA precariously  leaning on top of the upright piano stuffed against the wall in the entrance. Next thing we are jamming away on a bluesy gospel number, and another tune, sax joins in. It’s a happy little collaboration out of the blue, after a couple of numbers I say I have to go to another jam, Sam Cammarata exchanges emails, and I have to rush off.

1 hour goes by, 2 hours go by, 3rd hour another whole band gets up, they look like an established white-y band, they definitely don’t want fresh players up in their business… Profit and another Jamaican guy who I’ve been chatting with want to do something funkier, as these white guys are playing really straight, white rock blues… yeesh, it’s the same over here ha ha! they play endless songs, sometimes not even blues, with 5min solos… eventually I tire of the charade of it all. Profit finally gets a run as a drummer, but it seems I am gonna have to wait ’til the end of time. I’ve had a couple of PBRs (Pabst cheap beer) and finally give up. Jam’s here are the same as Australia. Pack my stuff walk out the door, zap an Uber an decide I should have stayed jamming with Sam at Apple Barrell, and there’s always swing dancing at The Spotted Cat. While I am waiting a dude sticks his head out of the door, “ I think they need a bass player” too little, too late, I am waiting on the Uber, and have classic Tim stubborn-head on. When it’s classed as a JAM, and people just play it safe all night, then get entire bands up to just run some of their songs, I cease to submit, no matter where and who. I just don’t understand why people have to be so false and insecure about their playing. Everyone there are great players, can’t you just trust on a monday night that you can explore music with some other great exotic players that you wouldn’t normally play with… JAM  pfffft!

The nights are starting to blur into one, I need some fresh take on it, I know where I am, and found the vibe, have walked around and across town to the street cars 11 nights in a row after midnight, in the town where 300+ people get murdered each year. It sounds startling to an Aussie, but the place feels no more dangerous than a night at Kings Cross.  Sure you have to keep your wits reasonably about you, and solo, you have to listen to your intuition sometimes and not walk down thAt alleyway shortcut, or just Uber it from here to there.  If you listen to your inner animal, it chats always with Nola who wants to guide you to the sweaty sexy light that blurs the darkness out. There ARE some crazies wandering the streets, but in this place there sure are a lot more obvious and easier targets than me (some people are just so unaware). 2.30am home

I get to Bambula’s where there is s’pose to be a swing lesson drop in, but there is nobody there but the cool band playin’ that  Nola Jazz and a couple of bar flys.  Django Reinhardt inspired guitar jazz, prob a tad fast for my swing dance style, but perfectly on the levee of New Orleans pace of life.  I order a couple of Tacos & a PBR.  There is one younger gal sitting at the end of the bar in black, but I assume she’s a bar chick on her break. One taco later in walks one of the swing dudes I’ve seen at The Cat, he chats with her, and I figure she’s the teacher. We chat, it’s past time, but she says she’s doing lessons at Dance Space near Magazine St, but she’s almost late for it, luckily 6.30pm solo jazz, then Lindy Hop at 7.30pm. I’m might come for Lindy. She says “sure” like that’ll happen. Whilst finishing my Tacos look up the place.  It’s right off the street car line, so add my tip (which I’m starting to get the gist of unconciously calculating approx right $$ amount now), and head off. Class is fun, I get the basics of Nola Lindy Hop with Giselle and a small class, which is basically less steps for faster music.

Now those people weren’t kidding, the place is huge, and Ron fills me in, that it moved from down the road after the floods, and was created by John who he introduces me too.  John’s a bit of a dancer, loves music, but wanted a place where all kinds of people and families could come for a great night out! he wasn’t wrong!… 

There is 20+ bowling lanes, big bistro, huge picnic style table area behind each lane, gigantic centre bar, massive stage for the bands, and a dancefloor that would put any RSL Auditorium to shame, in fact the entire place’s floor everywhere is proper wooden dance floor. Simply glorious unlike any venue I have ever seen. The night we are there it’s a bit rock n roll/rockabilly, so not exactly my dance style, but there are plenty of dancers and it’s a total mixture of crowd, some oldies dancing, and eating, a young uni kids function doing bowling and food platters, middle aged people just at the bar or eating. Some of the youngies eventually after a few drinks get on the dancefloor too. The dance partners thin out, so I convince Ron to go into town to Spotted Cat for some real swing, his arm is easily twisted.

Damn! there’s a Pedicab sitting right outside The ‘Cat, I never use them, I’d rather save the money and Shank’s pony-it wherever… Look at my list, what haven’t I done yet? my eyes dart back to her, this Pedicabber just has something, normally they are sweaty jocky guys dishevelled and busting their hump in Nola’s hellish bake-ery…I walk to cross the street, but haven’t really found anything yet, Nola whispers to me, by just raising her eyebrows, no words.  I lean on the back of the Pedicab, “So you look like the sort of person who can add something to my list or point me in the right direction at least”, she smiles all-business-like (I try to not roll my eyes), but she looks at my list… then scrolls down, “that’s a great list!” then I smile all-business-like. She adds “Preservation Hall” to my list and is surprised it’s not on there already considering the calibre of my list.

I just have a relaxing start to Friday, start checking for 2nd hand cars, it’s not looking good. The online reviews of some places confirm your worst nightmares about shonky 2nd-hand car dealers, and the process to get it registered through the DMV for a non-local are pretty horrendous. Taylor suggests hiring from Avis as they are the cheapest. I check it, they are pretty competitive, and if stay a bit longer in New Orleans, the hire works out to be about what I would spend, but for a brand new car, with no break down worries, hmmmm… food for thought

One Eyed Jacks theatre room proves to be a formidable venue, reminds me of the old Gaelic Club in its heyday, prob about 400 size, with a mezzanine level, and stepped up main floor, proscenium arch style theatre, haunted I’m told. It’s refreshing to see acts in a space with a decent PA not just the size of it, but the frequency spectrum of it.  Sea Battle run through sonically edged, theatrics, back-up goddesses, songs about mermaids, aliens, freaky music, female rapping, costume changes. MC Hot Tee steps up the MCing and also has backup dancers, and adds a circusy act, loop tissue act hanging from the rigging.  The headliner Delish the Goddess throws down a massive set of gangsta-ess, the production quality of the music pushing the sound system to its limit, the bass is so low and punchy and strong that it lifted me onto my feet… bassplayer heaven.  A sound system that surely went down to at least 60htz maybe even 40… (for you tech heads) the walls shook, the crowd bounced, and it was a great night. Something completely different from Nola than the usual lightly-fared jazz acoustica. I run into Tomahawk on the dance floor in the last set, I love acts that dance in other bands sets! she seems glad that I came to the gig, and alone no less. “Stick with me” she intimates, we get backstage at one stage, and later introduces me to some of the other band members, the owner of the bar, and the owner of Preservation Hall… Great meet ups :) I’m so glad I came.

Sunday I’m feeling so contented, but its maintenance time, I finally have to do some laundry, so out of non-smelly clothes,  start this blog in Babylon cafe/laundromat, do your washing and you get free drip or iced coffee… my kinda place. I do some emailing, then get home and finish a few things from another project, old invoice that I forgot to send, connect a couple of friends for another project, digital nomad… I could handle this… onto the blog, here I am finishing this, get a take-away Spinach/Artichoke Dip with breads, and a veggo calzone from Mellow Mushroom down on Oak St. Finish blog, do vLog edit… missed a swing thing tonight, but I think I;m ok with it, video to you all :) ENJOY!

We travel for about 10mins in an ol’ chevvy van, now this is a musos vehicle, so big inside and feels like an old tank filled with years of tour smells, not bad, but just that experience of the road in it.  We arrive at the Maple Leaf Bar on Oak st, which is great for me ‘cause I can walk home from here.  George Porter Jnr is a name I vaguely know, but turns out he played with The Meters, and Art Neville in the 60s and 70s.  He still plays with The Funky Meters to this day.  Just bass, keys and drums on their monday night residency, like a lot of things I have heard, there is a looseness to the storyline of the songs, but the playing is tight. The younger drummer (who is a friend of Profits) is tight as (see the video) and again there is a depth of playing that make this funky fusion amazing to watch on a MONDAY!

But apparently Nola didn’t get the memo, and on this rainy tues after I return to Snake & Jake’s to say hello, Keeler my late night bar-mistress says there is another amazing gig at the Maple Leaf Bar tonight, which Fritz the doorman backs up.  I hang out for a few more Schiltz at $2 a pop it’s dangerous, and eventually head over to The Rebirth Brass Band @ Maple Leaf.  These guys ARE an institution in New Orleans, when people think of Treme, and second line brass, Rebirth has been going in various incarnations since1984, won a grammy in 2012 for best roots band, have been tuesday residents at the Maple Leaf for decades. During his speech commemorating the 10th year since Hurricane Katrina, President Barack  Obama jokingly mentioned that maybe he'll "finally hear Rebirth at Maple Leaf on Tuesday night" after he is out of office.  The band is the first one I have had to pay for, $20, not cheap, but the room is packed, there is some tourism film crew filming interviews outside, I check it out, crazy great vibes, and heaps of fun… but it does seem that the band has worn on in its residency. The accuracy has definitely gone out the window and it’s just one big party.

Sat wake up late, do we see a pattern forming here! Organise some stuff with accomodation, and start working on transport things for buying a van/car. Sort and load some video for another project, and also this weeks pictures and videos. Get lazy just go to Subway for afternoon lunch, and find they have “Bananna Pickles”… must have. Random guy comes in and out of Subway, he’s pretty happy, but just uses the toilet, but says hello as he leaves, I say hello.

Ok, So the universe sometimes talks to you and you’d better listen. I had 3 great bands in Wollongong Australia, Damn Fine Gentlemen (3 piece Jump Blues/Rockabilly), Chuparosa (8 piece Reggae, Funk) and Filthy Downtown (6 piece Dirty Gritty Funk), amongst other fun bands, musos and jams… but Filthy Downtown ended in beginning of 2016, so I decided to use the downtime to travel again, and this big musical trip was always on the cards at some point, so here I am in New Orleans USA, and intending to roadtrip around to Austin, Memphis, Nashville, Clarksdale, Muscle Shoals, St Louis, Chicago, Detroit, Toronto, Montreal and New York, then a stop over in Cuba and Jamaica.