Note: Yesterday I said I thought the version of “Bon Temps Roulet” performed by T Bone Burnett was by Clifton Chenier. I’m told it was originally by Clarence Garlow.

So far, this has been a shaky fest for food for me. The crawfish bread really isn’t any significantly more than a grilled cheese sandwich (not saying anything bad about a grilled cheese sandwich!), and mine literally was one, with only a crawfish or two. Out of curiosity, I tried the paneed chicken po-boy, but it was little more than the breaded chicken cutlets you can by frozen at the grocery, and the usually reliable quail and pheasant gumbo was thin and a muddy color rather than the thick, brick-colored gumbo we’re used to.

Some bands don’t make the transition to the big stage well, but Big Blue Marble was a revelation on it. Whether with the band’s core lineup of seven people or with the expansion modules – two horns, the Craft brothers on strings – for the first time you could hear how big the band’s sound is supposed to be. Dave Fera’s voice was also pushed far enough to the front that I heard many lyrics clearly for the first time.

As far as interviews go, Texas R&B wildman Roy Head was flop. Dr. Ike of the Ponderosa Stomp asked questions for the record geeks in the room, giving the less obsessed few handholds or explanations of who people are. And Head – always on – finished enough tall tales and hilarious stories by saying, “This is true,” and “That’s a true story,” giving you reason to doubt him. As a performance, though, it was hilarious – a stand-up routine with Dr. Ike and Li’l Buck Sinegal only there to give him foils.

Sax man Big Jay McNeely spent as much time singing as playing, and I’d like to think it was to save his breath or his chops, but he sang so hard that it’s not likely the former. He was born in 1927, so maybe some sense of self-preservation is important. As a singer and showman, he’s fine. When he doubled over to play honking, bar-walkin’ sax instrumentals, he was transporting.

I forget about the intensity of Bobby Lounge’s voice, as he commits to each song completely. I went to see Lounge to say hello to friends and was caught up in the show in minutes.

It’s startling how much noise rain makes on a tent roof, and the roof of the Blues Tent rippled with rain. I heard that Dr. John’s set ended a half-hour early because of the rain.

The Ponderosa Stomp Revue wasn’t it’s strongest lineup, but it did present some of the Stomp’s signature performers (along with Barbara Lynn, who played Friday) . Roy Head was money, still a rambunctious ball of dance and mic moves, and kissed Dr. Ike and gave Stanley “Buckwheat Zydeco” Dural, Jr. a big hug while Buck was playing the B3 as part of the house band. But no one else had was as distinctive a performer. Dennis Binder embodied a ’50s rockin’ blues singer, but by the end of his part of the show, he’d become a little generic. New Orleans’ Tammy Lynn segment was better structured, opening with “Ooh Poo Pah Doo” and closing with her hit, the psychedelic funk song “Mojo Hannah,” but she’s an acquired taste. Archie Bell got time for an extended “Tighten Up” – his one song before the rain forced the closing of the tent and the festival (though I thought I still heard Congo Square through the rain as I went to my car.

The prospect of dealing with the muddy festival today doesn’t make me happy.