New Orleans to the City of Roses

Sept. 23, 2004

Dear Julie,

In New Orleans in the mid-'80s, good music poured from the bars and clubs every night. Tipitina's was closed then, but jazz and rock 'n' roll and roots music could be heard all over town, the best in clubs like Snug Harbor and the Maple Leaf.

New Orleanians love music and musicians. The Neville Brothers and Irma Thomas were gods, and Wynton Marsalis was just breaking out nationally. He was on the cover of Dixie magazine. The district attorney's name was Harry Connick. Only insiders knew how talented his young son was and what he might become.

The Radiators played. Allen Toussaint, whose magical touch as a pianist and producer can be heard on much of the music that came out of New Orleans beginning in the 1960s -- think "Lady Marmalade" and Dr. John's "Right Place, Wrong Time" -- came in the bar where I worked. He was handsome and dressed in fine suits. He folded his hands in front of his glass and waited for Linda, the bar manager and one of New Orleans' most luscious women, to appear.

The great musicians and I shared one thing: We all worked nights. While they were trading licks, I made Long Island iced teas.

But on my Monday nights off I headed for a Magazine Street hangout called Tyler's Oyster Bar and Beer Garden. It was not fancy but was a place where people respected music. The audience came not to talk but to hear someone who could play.

I heard the saxophonist James Moody there once. He used to play with Dizzy Gillespie. Once you've done that, you can play anywhere with anyone.

The regular Monday night entertainment was provided by Wynton Marsalis' pianist father, Ellis, a dignified man whose playing was sublime.

Usually he performed with just an electric guitarist. You'd think two solo instruments might sound twitchy together, but Marsalis never allowed that to happen. Musicianship came first with him.

This flooded back to me this week when I read that Ellis's 96-year-old father, Ellis Sr., had died. He was a motelier who fathered a talented musician who fathered four more and mentored Harry Connick Jr. and the trumpet virtuoso Terence Blanchard. Ellis Jr. set standards a generation of New Orleans musicians are still living up to, including his sons.

Wynton has won a Pulitzer Prize for composition. Branford is near the top of the saxophonist heap. Trombonist Delfeayo and drummer Jason are still establishing themselves.

Musicians learn their art by listening to and playing with each other. The more they do so, the more profound their understanding of music. Fathers and mothers hand the knowledge down to sons and daughters. Teachers impart the importance of scales to students. Friends pass along chord changes and riffs to friends. Musicianship is a brotherhood and sisterhood.

The password is: Listen.

Like New Orleans, Cape Girardeau has its own musical family. Ours will have a reunion this weekend when more than 60 bands and individual musicians perform downtown during the City of Roses Music Festival. We're not New Orleans, but we have extraordinary musicians.

My ears can hardly wait.

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is the managing editor for the Southeast Missourian.