Last weekend, I wanted to showcase Frenchmen Street to a music-loving friend from Europe who had never been to New Orleans before. We ventured there late on Saturday afternoon; the city was chock-full of tourists, and even so early in the day there were many obvious tourists wandering down Frenchmen, which typically has music starting usually about 1 p.m. or 2 p.m.
I can sum up his impression of Frenchmen Street in one word: sleazy. The street is filthy, there’s rancid water standing everywhere as a result of poor drainage on the street—something the business owners on the street have been complaining about for years, and nothing has been done. And Frenchmen Street reeks. Anyone who lives in NOLA can describe that rancid “smell” (if you want to call it that; it’s more of a stench) that permeates some parts of the Quarter (mostly Bourbon). And that’s what Frenchmen smelled like: toxic stagnant water, stale beer and who knows what else.
Gone are the days when Frenchmen was a real music alternative to Bourbon Street, I’m sorry to say.
OffBeat’s office overlooked the corner of Decatur and Frenchmen for many years, and the changes the street has gone through are pretty drastic. During COVID, we had no choice but to move our offices to the Old US Mint/New Orleans Jazz Museum. I was so sorry to leave Frenchmen, where we had been for about 22 years, but we had to go. The conditions on Frenchmen had already seriously declined even while our office was on Frenchmen. We left in November 2020, and since then, it seems the street has deteriorated a lot. Yes, the music is still there, but when Frenchmen first started developing a reputation as a music street that could bring in tourist dineros, the atmosphere and locals’ attitudes towards Frenchmen changed drastically.
For 35 years, OffBeat has advocated for the musicians, bands, music venues, festivals and music industry in New Orleans and throughout the state, and being a Frenchmen Street business, we advocated for Frenchmen Street too. It was our ‘hood. When we moved to Frenchmen Street, the Dream Palace (now the Blue Nile) was operating, along with music venues Café Brasil and Snug Harbor. Those were the places that locals who loved live music went to, paid a cover and enjoyed live local music. But after we moved to Frenchmen things started to slowly change. New venues opened that featured music: d.b.a. and the Apple Barrel. Vaso. The spot where the Maison is now changed hands at least three times before it reached its current incarnation. Then the Spotted Cat; Café Negril opened, as did Three Muses. The Marigny Brasserie started hosting live music. Then French Quarter bar operators bought property on Frenchmen and opened 30/90 and Bamboula’s, which feature music. Café Brasil ultimately became Favela Chic. The Yard (also having changed hands many times) and the Dragon’s Den offered live music. Finally the Royal Frenchmen Hotel also began hosting music, as do several newer places on the street.
Frenchmen had became an incredible place to enjoy live bands, simply because there were so many venues that were cheek-by-jowl on Frenchmen within the three blocks from Esplanade/Decatur to Royal Street. It created a critical mass of live music that was different and more “local” than what you could hear on Bourbon Street. So another music district was born.
What bothers me so much is that the city does not seem to care about its music districts. Music is still one of the main reasons that visitors come to New Orleans. Bourbon businesses have clout because Bourbon is still perceived as the locus of musical entertainment in the French Quarter. Bourbon businesses are organized and demanded that the city provide police protection and sanitation, which is always an issue. Neglecting either of these necessary services will mean that a music district will ultimately have a much more difficult time enticing tourists. Frenchmen’s drainage situation is atrocious and just plain nasty. For God’s sakes: we’ve created a great tourist attraction centered on music, and now we let the infrastructure rot? We don’t provide police protection in a place where literally hundreds of thousands of people—many of them drunk or high—congregate on a nightly basis?
I’ll also mention here (not the first time, by any means) the fact that the vast majority of venues on Frenchmen do not charge a cover. This means that—just like Bourbon Street—there’s no cover, a drink minimum, and a relatively large group of musicians who are still being paid as a percentage of the bar plus tips.
It’s time for the city to step up to repair the infrastructure on Frenchmen and to patrol the street just as they have done on Bourbon Street. Personally, I’m not particularly happy with what’s happened to Frenchmen: changing from a music mecca to just another place to party and get stupid drunk. I’m tired of having music relegated to being a background for guzzling alcohol without any regard for the musicians who provide the entertainment and the draw for all the visitors—this is killing the goose that laid the golden egg. The concept is to entice visitors to drink as much as possible (since locals rarely venture to Frenchmen any more). Yeah, I know: without bars and alcohol, there would be no music clubs. Well, that’s not exactly true: the only “club” that’s managed to focus on music and not on alcohol is the venerable Preservation Hall. Surely this says something about locals’ attitudes towards music?
It’s time that the city mandate that music clubs and bars charge a cover for live music on Frenchmen—or whatever music district—or that bars add a fee to help compensate musicians. A cover would be better because that way guests at the bars will understand that music is a treasure that is highly valued by the citizens and business owners of New Orleans. Needless to say, this will be an unpopular idea for music clubs and bars. And the liquor lobbyists and distributors will squash this idea. They want to maximize profits—by selling as much alcohol as they can. But I will guarantee you that music lovers will not stop going to Frenchmen Street (or drinking) if some changes are made. In fact, more locals might return to the street. Obviously there are other issues: parking, lighting, renegade vendors, noise. These also have to be addressed.
Our music is a treasure that simply cannot be duplicated anywhere else in the world. If the city wants to perpetuate its musical culture—and growth in the tourism base of visitors who are here for the music and not simply to get drop-dead drunk—they have to do something. When I mean “they,” I’m talking about the city, the NOPD, the clubs themselves and the musicians who will continue to play for a pittance. What can we do to solve this problem? We don’t want to lose Frenchmen.
