Voodoo Parents
More than the music even, City Park is the reason to attend Voodoo Fest. Especially for parents, the abundant shade and wide open space makes Voodoo a perfect family event. Though it did feel weird to be offered shampoo at every turn, the Garnier hair tent treated my three-year-old to red streaks in her hair that made her giddy for hours. She also loved the ferris wheel — though her dad thought $4 a person was a bit of a ripoff for three laps with a brief pause at the top. The glowing rides did look beautiful while the headliners rocked their loud sets. But the $7 smothered crawfish bread stuffed with cheese, shrimp and other swampy goodness from Cartozzo’s Bakery was a decidedly better deal.
Less Local Music
Everyone I spoke to all day – especially the many musicians – all agreed they missed the old NooMoon stage. The small, indy stage’s disappearance as of 2009 continues to mean roughly 50 less New Orleans bands at Voodoo – which in turn means less music for a constantly increasing ticket price. Without the NooMoon stage, the festival feels less local.
Katey Red/Cheeky Blakk/Ha Sizzle/Magnolia Rhome
Showcase shows like Katey Red’s at Voodoo – several performers, 20 minutes apiece — are the way to go. All of Voodoo should be showcase shows. See 100 bands in one day.
Cheeky rapped tough and gravely over her own recorded. A female referee threw her ass around, but Cheeky was mostly out there alone with her DJ Mr. Magic. My 3-year-old daughter danced and danced, absorbing god knows how many pornographic catch phrases per minute: i.e. “Bust it open,” “Hit me with the one-eye,” all over fast, grimy beats. Perhaps I am projecting, but at one point Cheeky seemed to pantomime boxing with a giant cock — which was getting the best of her at one point, but in the end Cheeky won. Despite joining Dave Stewart at Voodoo Fest — and seemingly any other musician who will ask them — Rebirth Brass Band did not join Cheeky on stage for their collaboration, “Pop that Pussy.” Cheeky closed with her hit, “Let Me Get That Outcha.” Several humans paddled across the pod to the shore near the stage to watch the show – and now “kayak bounce” will probably be a thing.
Though he looked a little young to be referred to as “The Voice of Bounce Music,” Ha Sizzle and DJ Lil Man proceeded to overshadow the rest of the showcase’s roster, with Katey’s Danger Boyz and Diamond Dolls dance troupes performing a less sexualized but still wildly impressive synchronized act. Sizzle also didn’t seem to be rapping over his own records, not even his semi-hit, “She Rode That Dick Like A Soulja.”
Next up, Magnolia Rhome was a bit mellower, executing his neighborhood jam, “Hunny Bun,” which includes the line, “Ride that dick for a donut stick.”
Then finally the master of ceremonies took the stage: “DJ, if you will,” said tall, beautiful Katey Red. Rapping over her records, Red nonetheless held the crowd rapt with her song “Bugaboo”: “You’re buggin me! You’re buggin me you’re ugly!” Red took turns hovering over each of her dancers, like the tall master of many small puppets.
With her chosen mix of legends and newcomers, Katey Red put together a Voodoo Fest package of modern local rap talent of which the city could be proud.
Close Your Gmail
Some huge electronic act (I hate to blame Borgore, but…) left their laptop’s Gmail chat on during their set; the unmistakable “plung” sound charged out of the giant PA more than once, reminding me of work on Monday.
Tomahawk
Tomahawk guitarist Duane Denison played evil muted chords. Mike Patton screamed and wailed and cooed, decorating it all in psychedelic laptop noise, not unlike Gibby Haynes of Butthole Surfers. Having watched Katey Red’s performance, Patton smirked, “This is a different kind of booty bounce,” before attacking a song from the band’s upcoming release Oddfellows, on Patton’s own Ipecac Records. Despite all of his spazzing out, Patton also pulled off more than one moment of vocal proof he could be a better R&B singer than any of these propped-up dudes currently on the radio.
Nas
Personally, I’ve rarely thought hip-hop sounded good with an organic live band; born of electronic drum machines and samplers, the genre sounds best when a too-repetitive groove is elaborated upon with a linear vocal flow. Queens, NY rapper Nas’ live band and DJ however, managed to not sound too crunchy on hard East Coast anthems “New York State of Mind” and “It Ain’t Hard to Tell.” “The World is Yours” enjoyed a more organic approach with female backing vocals, and “One Mic” sounded damn near sensual.
But a Nas show is about words. Otherwise just another never-aging guy in a cap and a New Orleans sweatshirt walking back and forth on stage, Nas nonetheless puts you in a serious headspace with a continuous flow of serious verbiage recited in a simultaneously serious and laid-back mode. Nas had his hand in his pocket a couple of times (an onstage no-no in any professional’s estimation) but mostly he effortlessly rocked — or at least stimulated — the big Voodoo crowd.
Jack White
Jack White fronted a big, tight band that let him play loose and crazy. White’s body (if not his guitar playing) was less emotive than in his White Stripes days, but the music is far better, as evidenced by a more fleshed-out “Dead Leaves on the Dirty Ground.” White projected a Dylanesque stoicism as he shared a mic for an erotic duet with a female backup singer who never took her eyes off of White’s. Despite his lack of smiles, somewhere in his torrent of awesome, effects-warped guitar solos, White dropped the Halloween reference, “Robbin’ little kids for bags!” an appropriation from the Geto Boys’ song, “My Mind Playin’ Tricks on Me.”
