Patrik Jonsson: Scattering of New Orleans' Musicians May Inspire New Music
In one of the few bright spots after Katrina, an outpouring of support for displaced New Orleans musicians is energizing music scenes from Atlanta to Portland, Ore. Indeed, the superstorm has sparked one of the most extraordinary musical migrations of pickers, horn-blowers, and pluckers since the closing of New Orleans' Storyville bordello district in 1917 - an exodus of musicians that spread the jazz gospel and changed music history.
"Economics and social patterns gave birth to blues and jazz, and have historically caused all the migratory shifts in music," says Jack Yoder, a New Orleans blues guitarist and singer who fled to Memphis. "It turns out that a natural disaster does the same thing."
Thousands of musicians fled the floods, many leaving guitars and keyboards to be consumed by the water - not to mention looters or fire. While New York and Los Angeles became second homes to celebrity players like Aaron Neville and Fats Domino, the vast majority of migrating musicians are unknowns, keepers of the New Orleans beat. Some scattered west to Houston and Austin, Texas. Others pointed northward to Memphis. Many moved on to Atlanta, Birmingham, Ala., even Portland, Ore., and San Francisco. But working musicians have to find a town where people will pay to get down and let loose, as they do here on Beale Street.
So far, musicians' groups are helping to provide living expenses, new instruments, and healthcare - reaffirming, for some, the esprit de corps of the jazz community. But most important, club owners are providing venues or, as they did at the Bar Car in Nashville, opening an otherwise dark Wednesday night for paying gigs to clusters of New Orleans musicians. Though some worry about scooting onto the turf of established musicians, so far little tension has been reported - though that may change.
"There are New Orleans musicians pretty much in every town around the South," says Reed Wick, who left the city and now works to help displaced musicians at the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) in Memphis. "I don't know if they're going to resent it at some point, but right now everybody is unbelievably welcoming and generous with their time and gifts."
In Houston, a new organization called New Orleans and Houston (NOAH) is helping perhaps the largest band of musicians to escape the city. Hill country blues players from New Orleans are finding work in San Francisco. Even the White House has invited musicians now holed up in Memphis to play at an October ball.
In Portland, Ore., the Jazz Festival, along with local businesses, paid the way for seven New Orleans musicians to travel there and set them up with a suite - and a number of engagements. Their presence has invigorated the local jazz scene.
"There's a buzz going around Portland, with young guys [from New Orleans] looking at it as a way to take off in their careers in a city with a fabulous jazz audience, a blues audience, and an aggressive indie music scene. It's really exciting to watch the Pacific Northwest and New Orleans meld," says Sarah Bailen Smith of the Portland Jazz Festival.
"Economics and social patterns gave birth to blues and jazz, and have historically caused all the migratory shifts in music," says Jack Yoder, a New Orleans blues guitarist and singer who fled to Memphis. "It turns out that a natural disaster does the same thing."
Thousands of musicians fled the floods, many leaving guitars and keyboards to be consumed by the water - not to mention looters or fire. While New York and Los Angeles became second homes to celebrity players like Aaron Neville and Fats Domino, the vast majority of migrating musicians are unknowns, keepers of the New Orleans beat. Some scattered west to Houston and Austin, Texas. Others pointed northward to Memphis. Many moved on to Atlanta, Birmingham, Ala., even Portland, Ore., and San Francisco. But working musicians have to find a town where people will pay to get down and let loose, as they do here on Beale Street.
So far, musicians' groups are helping to provide living expenses, new instruments, and healthcare - reaffirming, for some, the esprit de corps of the jazz community. But most important, club owners are providing venues or, as they did at the Bar Car in Nashville, opening an otherwise dark Wednesday night for paying gigs to clusters of New Orleans musicians. Though some worry about scooting onto the turf of established musicians, so far little tension has been reported - though that may change.
"There are New Orleans musicians pretty much in every town around the South," says Reed Wick, who left the city and now works to help displaced musicians at the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) in Memphis. "I don't know if they're going to resent it at some point, but right now everybody is unbelievably welcoming and generous with their time and gifts."
In Houston, a new organization called New Orleans and Houston (NOAH) is helping perhaps the largest band of musicians to escape the city. Hill country blues players from New Orleans are finding work in San Francisco. Even the White House has invited musicians now holed up in Memphis to play at an October ball.
In Portland, Ore., the Jazz Festival, along with local businesses, paid the way for seven New Orleans musicians to travel there and set them up with a suite - and a number of engagements. Their presence has invigorated the local jazz scene.
"There's a buzz going around Portland, with young guys [from New Orleans] looking at it as a way to take off in their careers in a city with a fabulous jazz audience, a blues audience, and an aggressive indie music scene. It's really exciting to watch the Pacific Northwest and New Orleans meld," says Sarah Bailen Smith of the Portland Jazz Festival.