Alright! is the debut album for Roger Lewis, a musician who has had a long history in New Orleans as well as an indelible effect on the jazz scene in the city. In 1977, Lewis was among the founding members of the Dirty Dozen Brass Band and since then has become a member of the Treme Brass Band, Delfeayo Marsalis’ Uptown Jazz Orchestra, and many other groups.
Alright! is Lewis’ first record as a leader and offers a new revelation into an already prolific artist. The album begins with the track “Bobee (What a Spirit Walks That Way),” a tribute to Lewis’ late son. A Caribbean beat followed by a heavy tuba kicks off the song, until a chorus of saxophones truly takes the music running. The tuba and the saxophones contend with each other, driving this beautiful tribute to a fever pitch in a true homage to what I can only assume was the spirit of the titular Bobee. There is a real balance of warmth and intensity that no doubt reflects the longevity of Lewis’ career in being able to balance these two emotions with such precision.
Another shining moment on the album is found on the track “Little Things” (with poetry read by New Orleans musician Don Paul). The soft lines of prose are accompanied by hazy riffs from Lewis’ saxophone and the gentle lilts of a piano. It is the most ethereal track on the record and it comes as a beautiful juxtaposition to the funk and big brass jazz elsewhere on the album. “Rice paper boats sail into the dawn / A robe’s folds are delicate and strong / Skin of silk and glass, the morning’s jam.” Paul croons these lines and with all of the instrumentation and poetry together, the song ends up resembling a lament to eternity and all of the small cogs that make up the splendor of life. Lewis’ saxophone wails and moans as if into the coming night, and each musician follows him into the embrace of darkness.
This leads into another example of this jazz-and-verse amalgamation with the track
“Maybe You See Horses.” Where “Little Things” was gentle like a stream, “Horses” resembles a call into the void. The brass instruments and the drums rattle and shake with each line of poetry. The music itself gyrates, screams, whispers and warbles. It is pure abstract free jazz led by shaman poetry of dreams and abrupt action. “Maybe you saw a horse race with itself / across a dawn’s misted pasture nearby the River… / Its shoulders withers, flank and crook / Rippling and knotting with its run.” Lewis and his musicians battle underneath this mystical verse and create an ominous soundscape that sprawls across images of Louisiana, nature and spirituality. One gets the sensation of being surrounded by fog and the smell of rain listening to this piece, and its efficacy in creating such a visceral experience is a testament to the chameleon ability of its leader. Lewis truly reaches the mountaintop on this track, showing that it is impossible to pigeonhole his playing into any genre as he can cross over into any that he wants.
Finally, Alright! represents not so much a debut, but another cornerstone in a career that is as long, storied, and resplendent as a stone cathedral window. As it were, Lewis does not step out on this record, it has been more than 60 years since the New Orleans scene heard him for the first time. Rather, on this album, Lewis shines yet again, adding another jewel in a chest of musical avenues that have already made him such a legend in the canon of New Orleans jazz.
