They can play but can they bring that “fire?” This question plagued the Nightcrawlers brass band since its inception in the mid-’90s. They are local musicians from all over the country who can write, arrange and play their asses off in a wide range of styles: ragtime, funk, trad jazz, bebop, R&B, reggae and swing (just to name a few). But like moths to flame, they were drawn to New Orleans and its indigenous brass band music, a genre which exudes a particular raw, funky essence that’s difficult to radiate if you didn’t grow up in the Sixth Ward or similar neighborhoods in New Orleans.
The solution? Hire a native drum section, in this case Tanio Hingle (New Birth Brass Band) on bass drum, Kerry “Fatman” Hunter (Sixth Ward Big Shots) on snare and Howard “Chief Smiley” Ricks (Dr. John) on percussion. Then do a live record at a local watering hole in front of a large, boisterous, native crowd—a context where anything contrived dies like fish out of water.
Does it work? Naturally. There’s plenty of syncopated heat driving this material home. What’s better, the Nightcrawlers’ strong suits, their tasty compositions/arrangements and airtight horn charts, are in full effect. Sousaphonist Matt Perrine contributes two gems, “Can of Worms” and “Stone Puppy,” sly, hip tunes driven by infectious bellowing tuba lines, tunes that use space and take their time to deliver the funk. With its high-octane, baritone-fueled melody, Jason Mingledorff’s “Red’s Cap” is on par with some of the Dirty Dozen’s best work. “Oye Como Va,” with hot percussion, blasting horns and zesty solos, would make the recently deceased Tito Puente proud, realizing his unfulfilled dream of combining his music with New Orleans jazz.
The high point occurs when, after Tom McDermott sits in on piano for his own “Martin’s Mambo,” the band chants its way into a slamming version of Stanton Moore’s “Tchfuncta.” Trombonist Craig Klein delivers a superb spoken-word sermon about the legacy of brass and funk in New Orleans, citing the Reliance, Onward, Tuxedo, Olympia, Fairview, Dozen, Rebirth, New Birth and, of course, the Nightcrawlers (an acceptable hubris on their part, considering the strength of this record). Then they segue into the Mardi Gras Indian anthem “On That Day” and percussionist Ricks (a bona fide Mardi Gras Indian Chief) lays down the “real-deal” street chants. When he screams, “There was lighting and thunder, children were praying… I don’t give a Goddamn, Nightcrawlers is hollering,” there’s no doubt about his sincerity.
For the finale, they bring in vocalist Debbie Davis for an explosive “Black Water,” with appropriately altered lyrics (“I want to hear that funky brass band and dance with my daddy all night long”) and a joyous cacophony of group improvisation and singing at the end. Davis really nails this tune, with just the right tinge of country-soul, and it’s unquestionably the most successful combination of vocals with modern New Orleans brass to date.
Slamming horns, funky drums, Indian chants, sexy vocals… What more do you want New Orleans?
