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The New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival returned to the Fair Grounds for another delicious display of musical gumbo. That is, until an epic deluge slowed things down for the final two days. With Jazz Fest 2016 now firmly in the rear view mirror, we're sharing a few thoughts on this year's best (and occasionally worst) moments.
Elvis Costello and The Imposters
He could have stayed in his trailer backstage at Gentilly, but Elvis Costello had clearly come to this year's Jazz Fest on a mission of honoring his late friend and collaborator, Allen Toussaint. And Toussaint was a guy whose ability to inspire awed stares and teary-eyed handshake introductions never kept him from passing out warm "hellos" by the food stands or by his Rolls after it pulled up on the track.
Shortly after the brown fedora–clad Costello arrived backstage for his set, he exited the Imposters' trailer, tiny silver teacup in hand, and chatted with whomever passed by, smiling for pictures with giddy fans and looking content as he watched other artists load in under darkening skies. As his set time approached, Costello retreated into his trailer again, then returned, this time wearing a Toussaint button–adorned raspberry beret.
The set began with a massive burst of energy. What initially sounded like Kraftwerk blared through the speakers, the words "rise, robots, rise" audible through the '60s sci-fi sound blur. A trip to the end of the Internet indicates it's a tune from the 1965 flick Gulliver's Travels Beyond the Moon that sets the stage for what multiple bloggers say is some kind of intelligent robot takeover. That sounds about right given Costello's use of radio and old-school TV imagery on his last tour. Whatever it was, it lasted less than a minute — long enough for Costello to give himself and a guitar a "ready, set, go" before running, full-speed, to center stage and slicing his hand into the first chord of "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love, and Understanding?"
The amped-up energy continued, courtesy of the megaphone siren Costello turned on the audience with a snicker after the line, "it only took my little fingers to blow you away" in "Watching the Detectives"; the sheer speed and intensity of "Radio, Radio," and some guitar work as internally complex as Costello's image-stuffed lyrics.
A Steve Nieve–centric piano ballad and a billowy version of "Beyond Belief" reined things in before Costello switched gears for the inevitable — and lovely — Toussaint dedication portion of his set, featuring the Crescent City Horns, a great story about Toussaint's unwaveringly polite studio demeanor and an arms-in-the-sky singalong to "I Cried My Last Tear" with Bob Andrews on keys.
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