THE MAKING OF NINE LIVES: I WISH IT WAS TOMORROW

This was a wonderful session and other then hiring the talent I wanted to stay out of the way as much as possible.

The scene in the book is 8 year old Belinda, dreaming of a better world like she sees on tv in The Waltons She dreams of escaping the Lower 9 and New Orleans by going to college and finding the perfect life.

I wanted to find a little girl who could really stir heart strings with their singing. Shamarr Allen works with a lot of young kids teaching music and I figured he would know someone. I called him up and asked if he knew of a little girl that could carry a big ballad on the record. Shamarr is a man of few words and he answered simply, "Andrew Baham's li' niece, Tionne Johnson, she can blow." I asked if he thought she would be up for it and he responded, "I don't know but she can blow, call Andrew." Drew is a Face Book friend. He plays with Big Sam and I like to follow the ever unfolding exploits of Big Sam's Funky Nation, so I hit Drew on FB and he got back with a contact number on Tionne's mom, Andre. I wanted to see if there was any You Tube footage of Tionne performing and was delighted and surprised to find out she had been on the Ellen Show at age 8 and again at age 9. My wife Shelly and I are fans and had seen both shows but I didn't make the connection until I pulled up the videos on You Tube. I watched in awe as this incredibly poised little girl blew the walls down with her singing and charmed Ellen with her interviews, I knew Shamarr had done me right again. I called Andre and she said it sounded interesting but that Tionne would need to hear the song first so I was going to give them a demo that Margie Perez had been sweet enough to record for me. A week later they drove to my house, Tionne was still in her school uniform and i went out to the curb to give them the song. Andre took the disc and looked in the back seat saying, "Tionne has a couple of questions." I asked what she wanted to know and this adorable little girl leaned over the back seat and asked, "I was wondering, Belinda has two songs in the musical but I only get to sing one, why is that? I smiled at her charming question, a question any singer would have wanted to ask but an adult might have been too intimidated to ask, and explained that she was playing Belinda as a child and that Tanya Boutte would be playing Belinda as a gown woman. She smiled the quick, understanding smile of a child and said, "Oh. I just have one more question. When do I audition?"  Charmed,  I explained that I had seen her performance on Ellen and she wouldn't have to audition, she smiled and they left.

I wanted David Torkanowsky to be the sole accompanist on piano.

David Torkanowsky helped me in so many ways after the flood, flying himself to gigs that I could not afford to pay him for playing, just to help me crawl out of the hole I was in. He taught me things about being a professional, how to pay your band, how to prepare them with charts, mostly he hit me with a thought that changed my playing and songwriting over the last few years with something he said to me. Once, when we were driving across country to a gig in Chicago, we were talking about songwriting and he said to me, "you know you hear a lot more complicated than you can play, you should think about that." I did and thinking about it lead me to guitar lessons with John Rankin which made me a better songwriter and guitar player, I owe David a lot. 

This wasn't why I asked him to play, it was because of watching him record on Exit To Mystery Street when he did four different passes on Adios San Pedro each of them more beautifully orchestrated than the one before. I knew David could play the part of the entire orchestra if need be and even considered just having it be he and Tionne. I also wanted to put him in a situation that brought out his gentle side. Tork is a cut up, a very funny fellow who likes a dirty joke, bawdy reference or just to gasp at the sight of a gorgeous woman. When I told Bingham that Tork would be on the session with Tionne he smiled and said, "this should be interesting", someone else in the studio remarked incredulously, "PG rated Tork!? This will be fun." It was more than fun, it was lovely.

Again the session was able to flow seamlessly because of the engineer, Wes Fontenot, who had set up the grand piano to be near the vocal booth Tionne would be singing in so Tork could lead her through the number. David was first in and he is incredibly at home in a recording studio which always makes a session smoother and more enjoyable. Folks who are less used to the studio environment are often thrown off and made self aware when it is time to record and self awareness is the last thing you want in the studio. Music should flow as naturally as it does when you have lost yourself in the song at home or on stage and once you start thinking about the notes you may as well stop rolling. Tork is very tech savy and fell into a conversation with Wes about which mics had been chosen, what effects would be on the piano, at some point in a technical conversation I wander away and did. Tionne and her mom Andre arrived and I walked them in to meet Tork. Pepsi had flown a camera crew in from Los Angeles to film some of the recording session and they were on hand to capture this song. Tionne acted as if there were no cameras there at all, as comfortable as if she did this every day of her life and I'm certain that soon she will be doing so very soon. I introduced her to Tork and instantly saw a side of him I'd never seen but knew was there when I hired him, Tork the patient teacher. He shook her hand and started asking about school, not bringing up the song. After a few seconds of making friends he asked, "So, how about you come over here and go through the song with me" he leaned in and whispered secretly, "I'm still learning this so maybe you can help lead me through." It was the perfect thing to say to a little girl in a room full of adult technicians, musicians, cameras rolling, equipment flying around, it gave her some control because now she had to "teach" Tork the song. It was the sweetest tactic I could have imagined taking to relax her and it worked, (thanks Tork). I strolled in to the control room listening as he further established their bond while actually rehearsing the song and when it was obvious Tionne was ready he said, "o.k., thanks. I think I have it now. You want to try singing it in that room right there." As she went into the vocal booth he said, "I play kind of loud banging on this piano, if you close that glass door I won't be so loud and you'll be able to hear yourself better. Put on the head phones and you'll be able to hear me just fine." He was leading her right up to the point of recording without mentioning the word record and all the while making her feel like she was helping him, it was lovely and it was genius. Once she was in the vocal booth Tork nodded at Wes who knew what he meant by the nod and headed to the control room to begin recording. 

The first take was sweet but Tionne faltered just for a moment toward the end of the song and when the song ended Tork said, "that was great honey but I made a goof, do you mind doing it again?"  The second pass was perfect an when it was over Wes walked out to the booth and opened the door smiling at her, Tork said, "alright, we're done. You sang beautifully." Tionne looked around the room at all the smiling adults and asked innocently, "we were recording, I thought it was just rehearsal." Hearts melted all through the studio over this beautiful old soul who had reminded us all for the day that music is play.

Tionne and Andre left for her dance lessons and Tork lingered for a bit. I thanked him because he had essentially produced the session, being Tork he knew very well that he had but said, "nah man. I just banged around on the keys", smiling at me. I did not know David Torkanoswky before the flood. He read an interview I did with Keith Spera in The Times Picayune when I first got back from living in Belize after the flood and he wanted to see what I was like. He didn't know my songs, to be honest my stuff is probably the simplest music he lays his hands on all year, he just saw something in my interview that made him reach out and I hope to do something one day to pay him back for all he has taught me.

Colman and I had discussed strings for all of Belinda's sogs and as we were massively over budget, I saw no reason not to call the Craft Brothers to play violin and cello. They are very young but look even younger, stingingly talented and quite something to spend a day with. Sam has a head full of uncontrollably curly hair and black framed eye glasses. From a distance you might think he was the scrawny intellectual kid you knew in high school but when you get close you see his biceps and tattoos and the eccentric musician image comes more clearly into focus. Jack, more quiet than Sam, is the more direct of the two when speaking though he speaks less often than Sam and both are as dryly sarcastic as I was at their age so I feel younger around them if I don't talk too much. 

They asked what I wanted and I played down the song for them, singing some parts I had in mind and telling them to feel free to come up with other parts. They went into the studio and at that moment they are in a world of their own, head nods, short hand language, giving each other looks and off mic whispers, all go into the few minutes it takes them to settle on an arrangement. Brothers who know each other inside and out musically. They tuned out Wes and I for a while, literally we didn't exist as they went into their Craft code until at some point the world came back into focus and they turned to us as if realizing our presence for the first time and told us they were ready to record. I didn't lead them, they lead Wes and I through the song, telling us where and what they wanted to play. At a couple of points I sang a few more lines I was hearing which they incorporated into their arrangement and within a forty-five minutes we were done with the gentlest track on the record. The innocence of Tionne singing, the elegance of Tork playing, the sweetness of the Craft brothers strings, all make up the simple beauty of I Wish It Was Tomorrow.

THE MAKING OF NINE LIVES: TRACK 5

HOW VERY LIKE SWEET ANNE

This was one of the more interesting musical pairings on the record. A duet between actor/writer/producer/comedian/director/activist Harry Shearer and Kevin Griffin, lead singer of the platinum record selling New Orleans rock band Better Then Ezra.

Harry is a vocal advocate for the city of New Orleans on his radio program, Le Show, and in his film The Big Uneasy. I have been a fan for years. Years ago he portrayed my absurd future of life in a rock band with Spinal Tap, (they went through drummers, we went through multiple bass player), many times when we were lost backstage at a big show opening for Hootie or Bare Naked Ladies, the rallying cry would be, "Hello Cleavland!" Mighty Wind made me laugh though a bit uncomfortably because I was far more serious about my love of folk music when I was young and they played that seriousness to full comic affect in the film. What I am saying is that he has made movies that resonated in my life and made me laugh as well, I am such a fan that though I have met him many times, I am almost always at a loss for words in his presence, damn self awareness again. Harry actually came to see my old band Cowboy Mouth 19 years ago at Jimmy's, he left a note for us saying, "Dear Mouthmen, play LOUDER!!" and signed it Derek Smalls. 

Kevin Griffin has been a friend through the rock scene for years. Ezra enjoyed the kind of success we used to dream about in Cowboy Mouth but never came close to, platinum record sales, television appearances, arenas, a song chosen as the theme song for Desperate Housewives at the peak of the shows popularity, they had quite a run and are still running.

I thought it would be really fun to have these two sing together because it seemed an off the wall choice.

Matt Perrine had outdone himself on this arrangement with a baroque four part harmony part which he wrote into the song. The new melodies were so integral to the songs structure that we had to write additional lyrics and Colman and I decided to give Matt a song writing credit. So complex were the backing vocals that we had to take them out for Harry and Kevin to record their lead parts. Hell, I had to take them out to do the guide vocal and I wrote that melody myself. It was not the first or last time I would refer to Matt Perrine as a "mad genius", a term of high endearment from me. I had told Matt that I was glad he would be in the studio because the vocal arrangements were so intricate that he might need to lead the singers through the recording. As luck would have it, the day Harry was to come in, Treme called and this time wanted Matt for a scene. Sticking with our deal I said I'd handle it and did for a bit but was glad when he showed up toward the end of the day just to make sure I got it right. We had sent Harry the original lyrics and needed to write more to send but Colman is old fashioned about writing and throughout the two year process of writing Nine Lives had insisted we be in the same room when we write, (a habit which I have since, mercifully, broken him of), so we didn't have time to write the lyrics before the day of the session when Colman flew back to town. Harry was completely prepared for the parts we had sent and tried to hide his surprise at being handed additional melody he hadn't heard and words he had never practiced singing upon arriving at the studio, not a pleasant surprise if you are into being prepared. He was game to sing the parts he knew and have me guide him through the new parts from the control booth so we set about it. Harry let us know that he had decided to sing the voice of George Montgomery as "Bing Crosby, drunk on red wine" which was perfect as I am a fan of "Der Bingle" and vin rouge so after I stopped laughing I told him it was a perfect choice. Throughout the session, I remained too intimidated by my love of his work to actually engage Harry in a conversation about his film, life, where his favorite po' boy place is, (for goodness sake Paul you're 51 years old!), but fortunately we bonded on our mutual love of Bing and did dueling Crosbys from the vocal booth and control room throughout his vocals so I got that going for me, which is nice. At times I could hear him talking with Matt, Mark and Colman behind me but I was focused on the work and tounge-tied as usual. He added the right touch of comic pseudo pomp to the character and once he learned Matt's new melody and the new words he knocked the song off very quickly. Harry, I would venture to say, has spent a lot of his adult life in a recording studio, the amount of voices he has recorded for the Simpsons alone has probably given him more studio hours then most bands will see in a career. He had fun with the phrasing, played with the character and of course knew just how to hit the comic lines to allow them to hang in the air for just that extra beat. 

More on Harry when we get to King Of Mardi Gras.

Kevin Griffin hasn't lived in New Orleans since the flood. He landed in Los Angeles and wound up writing songs for American Idol which could be called landing on your feet. He has since moved to Nashville where he had a hit record on a Sugarland record before he unpacked the first box in his new house. Kevin is that talented and that successful. I am always humbled by the fact that he will take time out of his schedule to sing a song or two of mine for one of my records. He had sung on Between Friends back in 2005. A song called Someone Again, a lilting ballad with strings, (The Craft Brothers), and Peter Holsapple on piano, it was a song about moving to Los Angeles and feeling displaced ironically enough, I wondered after the flood if he ever heard the song from time to time while living out there, wondered if it resonated. He has moved so perhaps it did, Boutte tells me that too many of my lyrics come true and I better not ever ask him to sing about dying. Kevin also sang a children's song I had written for Between Friends called Wake-Y-Up-O which he learned in a day and sang as if he were singing to his own child. I have had the pleasure of hearing Kevin sing many times and in many different settings over the years and his voice is always just lovely. On a rock stage, in acoustic performance, radio shows, backstage jamming, the guy can sing. Colman and Matt did not have the benefit of knowing his voice as intimately and when I brought him up to sing Billy Grace they said no at first because both saw him as strictly a rock singer. I had to show them some You Tube footage of Kevin doing unplugged performances so they could hear that beautiful vulnerability in his voice, it didn't take them long once they heard just he and a guitar, he was Billy Grace. Kevin is always prepared when he arrives at the studio, another reason for his success, he knows the material, is in a confident place and ready to work. You see, fears and doubts aside, recording is simply work in the end and if you do the proper preparation your instincts take over so you can relax into your best stuff. He asked to be taken through the song and the scene as he had not yet read the book Nine Lives. We played the song on the studio speakers while I talked him through the life of Billy Grace. It took a few minutes and a few passes of the song before Kevin stopping chuckling every time Harrys voice came on, saying softly to himself, "I'm singing with Harry Shearer", as he laughed, (obviously I wasn't the only Harry fan in the room). I explained that he was going to be singing the voice of Billy at twenty on this song. He asked for some stage direction saying that he had never sung in theater before so I told him, "there is a song of yours on Ezra's first record, Deluxe, called This Time Of Year. It always makes my wife think of her L.S.U days, throwing frisbees on the quad, the promise of life just beginning to unfold. Use that younger voice, your higher register, the voice that sold 6 million records and had hearts fluttering around the country." He smiled and walked into the booth. As I say, he is a professional and his first take would have been fine but being a professional he did what he has done for every song he has ever recorded for me and did several takes until he was satisfied. Kevin is a singer who knows what he wants from his voice in the studio and will go past what you have asked of him to deliver, an excellent trait in an artist if you happen to be the producer. Colman was wide-eyed on the first take turning to me and remarking that he sounded "younger then when he was in here just now talking to me", as I say, Kevin is a talented singer and you can add actor to that now.

The complex backing vocals were sung by Arsene DeLay, Tara Brewer and Barbara Davis, the mother of Debbie Davis. Barbara is an opera singer in New Jersey where Deb is from and she was to be in New Orleans for the holidays so it was wonderful and warm to include more family in the record. Boutte, Sanchez, Andrews, Allen, Davis, Bohren, Craft, family is well represented in the fabric of the record. I have a wonderful visual of Matt directing his mother-in-law through the part as Debbie sat in the control room listening to her father J.B. trade theater stories with Tony Award winning actor Michael Cerveris who had flow to town to sing the voice of John who becomes Joann, with Debbie rolling her eyes and saying, "god dad! No more theater stories!"

Tara Brewer is a soprano, a teacher at NOCCA, she appeared in season one of Treme singing an Irma Thomas song at a party and caught my attention but it was Micahel Cerveris, (much more on him later), who suggested her for the album. Arsene DeLay is John Boutte's niece who I had sung with on a trip to Los Angeles with John and he had given her a big thumbs up when I asked about using her for Nine Lives. It helped that she had an instant bond with Debbie Davis who was invaluable in bring the voices of Nine Lives to life. Matt's parts are demanding and Deb worked the singers hard knowing that when Matt came in for a listen he would work them harder. These were moments in the session where I must confess that I stepped into the kitchen and had a cup of tea with Mark Bingham to listen to endlessly fascinating stories about records he has made and the impossibly absurd things that go on while a record is made as we surrender to creativity and reality recedes. Matt ran the background vocal sessions for the songs he had arranged on Nine Lives because he had already heard the parts played perfectly in his head for weeks and he wanted it to sound in the world as close to it did in his mind. 

Loyola classical guitar teacher, singer, songwriter and incredible guitarist John Rankin, who has been so instrumental in developing my guitar playing since the flood, played a beautiful acoustic guitar part that he and Matt worked out to go with the vocal arrangement. The final touch was Andre Bohren playing "classical sounding" piano for the bridge. Andre is a wonderful drummer in the bad Johnny Sketch and The Dirty Notes but he is also a classically trained pianist, something his father Spencer Bohren, the incredible blues guitarist and folklorist, is very proud of. It is well know among Andre's friends and family that he will not cross his love of pop with his love of classical, one is for playing drums and the other is for playing piano. I wanted him to cross that line because I believed he would be surprised at how much each lends to the other. Also I dig the book Illusions by Richard Bach and there is a line which says, "argue for you limitations and sure enough, they're yours." I called to ask him if he could come up with a baroque sounding piano bit for the bridge of the song and he asked me to send an MP 3 along. Later that same day he came to the studio and sat down to play. He shook his head laughing at me and said, "I hope you like what I came up with, I never tried to improv like Mozart before", I think he did a wonderful job, may even hire him to perform it in a big white wig like Tom Hulce in Amadeus.

The song is one of my favorites on the record. Delightfully different, comically irreverent and decidedly New Orleans in it's absurd world view if not it's musical stylings. 

I grew up in the Irish Channel, dog walking distance from the Rex Mansion and used to wonder about life behind those big windows, How Very Like Sweet Anne gave me a chance to have a peek and poke a little fun.

 THE MAKING OF NINE LIVES : RUN AGAINST YOU AND WIN    TRACK 6

The basic track for this was cut on the day I was filming a scene for Treme so Matt handled the band. 

Though I had intended for Herman to be drummer on every track, it turned out to be very representative of New Orleans that we wound up with over a half dozen drummers. I could have used a different drummer on all 24 songs and never run out of good drummers in New Orleans.

Matt had hired Doug Belotte for this session. The song is a scene in the book where Frank Minyard decides to run for Coroner. The scene begins as he and Father Theriot hand out methadone to junkies, shifts to the office of Sheriff Heyd and again to the office of Coroner Rabin who is so apathetic that he angers Framk into running against him. Because there were three scene shifts, Colman and I had written three different sections for the song which made it three short songs really. Matt had done a very nice Abbey Road/The Beatles/ style job of stringing the bits together with instrumental interludes but the arrangements were complicated, especially for the drummer who was responsible for the difference in groove and volume along the way. Doug did all of these things seamlessly, the song flows as Matt intended and as it sounded in my head when I found the melody. Tom McDermott again set the tone and creates the mood with his incredible knowledge of and dexterity within any style of New Orleans piano playing. Tim Laughlin brings in the clarinet with his echoes of Pete Fountain's playing which are part of Frank's character in the Dan Baum's book as Frank is proud of his friendship with Pete who is a "real" musician. Rick Trolsen, from the New Orleans Nightcrawlers, on trombone adding the -take- to Tim's -give- in what sounds like a sustained conversation between the trombone and clarinet throughout the song even as the melody and mood shifts.

The backing singers were the "house choir". The need for speed and the complexity of Matt's vocal arrangements made us decide to stick with one group of background singers for the bulk of the record. Debbie Davis, Arsene DeLay, Tara Brewer and Vatican Lokey were there, working hours a day in order to sing a few minutes of music for a track. This particular vocal arrangement had some torturous intervals which Matt had written in the "junkie chorus" section and the singers exhausted themselves getting it to where Matt was satisfied. We added a few voices to these on this track. One was Deb's father J.B. Davis., an opera singer with a gorgeous bass voice. He was to be in town for the holidays so we saved this part for him. J.B. is a serious professional who came in completely prepared and knocked his part out easily. I was happy to have more family on the record and Deb was sweetly grateful to have a chance to appear on a record with her mom, dad and husband. He was singing this time so she didn't have to worry about him trading theater stories with anyone. 

My pal Mark Adam Miller, from the rock band Dead-Eye Dick, agreed to sing backup and one of the featured lines in the junkie chorus. Mark is an ironic voice for the junkie chorus because he doesn't drink, smoke or do drugs but he has been an actor for years and ran with the idea. Mark had also been the first of my old rock friends to call me after I left The Mouth and moved to Belize. He had heard I was coming home for the holidays in 2006 and he kindly insisted that we do a Christmas night show at Carrolton Station, something I have done for twenty years  before the flood, from original owner Tom Bennet to current keeper of the flame Eric Orlando. I was in still in shock like from what had happened to New Orleans, from leaving my band, losing my "friends" of fifteen years. I suppose like thousands of people I was looking for a nudge in any direction and Mark gave me that nudge. This vibe was surrounding me and the making of Nine Lives and the sessions were glowing with energy, respect and friendship. My buddy Eric "Shoeless" Pollard and my brother John Sanchez had come out to help sing harmonies on a few songs. My budget was gone and I couldn't sing all of the baritone parts myself, both of these men had followed Nine Lives since Colman and I started writing it two years ago. They started showing up to sing for free because they dig the work and care about me, both are wonderful singers and you simply can't replace that kind of love from a friend and devotion to the project. I smile with real appreciation whenever I hear their voices on the record.

I was again singing the voice of Frank Minyard as he converses with Father Theriot who was being sung by Caleb Guillote. Caleb was the singer, songwriter and guitarist of Dead-Eye Dick along with Mark Miller and Billy Landry on drums. They had a gold record with their debut album, songs placed in films, toured the world. Caleb and I used to have an informal songwriters club when we were young and trying to make our way as writers. He has remained a friend and supporter as he has gone on to work in the film business. He still performs and I have always dug the power and control he had with his voice He was also a Jesuit High graduate who has delighted at casting himself in a different mold than the average Jesuit graduate so he had fun playing with the notes as well as role of Father Theriot.  I think he got a kick out of being a priest for Nine Lives, I know I dug the irony and it was great to have a chance to sing with him again.

The part of Sheriff Heyd is sung/acted by my brother George Sanchez who did so playfully and wonderfully using all of two takes. George is 70, has been an actor for all of his adult life on stage, television, films. He is a director, writer, actor and true lover of the arts. He is one of the reasons I wanted to perform when I was a kid. We were a poor family, my father was a longshoreman who died leaving a house full of kids for my mom to raise in The Irish Channel. My brother had just graduated college and he became an actor. I would see the clippings my mom collected of him performing in Detroit, a favorite clipping of him performing Auntie Mame for Southern Rep in New Orleans in a cast which included my brothers Joseph and Andrew. Later, he became director of the Boston and Washington Pops and would come home with stories of meeting famous musicians, singers. He met The Beatles record producer, George Martin which was a big deal for me knowing that my own brother had come close to The Beatles. He showed me that there was another life waiting out there beyond the poverty and brutality of where I was and I knew I would find a way to get to that life. I wanted him for these reasons but also because he has been a part of the New Orleans theater scene for all of his career and I really was trying to tie in as many elements of the music community as possible. We all approach how we play very differently, jazz guys, rock bands, brass players, theater performers, we all follow different rules and chart a different course to arrive in similar places. In the four years since the flood I had learned this from my guitar teacher John Rankin, I learned it when I had the chance to sit in with Boutte's band, Shamarr Allen's band, Glen David Andrews band. Crossing that distance is like learning to say the same sentence in a different language, it feels good when you make the connection and I wanted to share that feeling of connection and community with as many performers and hopefully as many listeners as I could. I was no longer just making a record. I was putting my life back together by creating a new community of all the different aspects of music that created me in the first place.

The final singer on this track is one of my dearest friends in the music business, Rob Savoy, who was one of the five bass players in the Mouth during my fifteen year tenure. We slept across the aisle of the bus from each other for 7 years, saw the best and worst moments of our lives and each others lives together and shared more laughs than should be legal. Rob was one of the funnies cats I ever had the pleasure to share space with and still is, in fact he is in a band full of guys who tell jokes as much as they play songs with Creole Stringbeans. The part he was to sing would be singing, acting and comedy. Rob Savoy is a singer uniquely suited to that moment and I had seen him give over the top comedic singing performances many times backstage so it was great to give him a chance to be silly for the listening public. Rob did not let me down and we performed this vocal looking at each other through the vocal booth and big studio room because the timing was tight and it had to be a tense conversation. It worked great but every time we got to the part where Rob is supposed to be funny he kept cracking me up so as producer I had to chastise myself as a singer and focus. I think that fun comes across on the track as does the growing feeling of coming together to celebrate friendship, love, mutual respect and this city we love so much. 

Run Against You And Win is a snapshot of New Orleans, drug problems, some good and some questionable people in charge of solving things. 

Comedy in the face of the absurdity of it all.

THE MAKING OF NINE LIVES: NOW THAT KATHY'S GONE   TRACK 7

This track is for a scene in Dan Baum's book about a man named John who becomes a woman named Joann which is utterly New Orleans... in fact, it would be borderline inappropriate in any other city but is completely acceptable here. Since the track was recorded I have even heard, "Oh yeah, that happened to a friend of mine back in the eighties" from more than one person - always the 80s which makes me wonder if there was a design flaw in the product at the time. The scene is the most sexually graphic in the book. Colman and I once asked Dan Baum how he got Joann to be so graphic, he laughed and said, " it's New Orleans. She owns a bar. I gave her bourbon".

In the scene, John is indulging a lifelong, secret urge of dressing in women's clothes. In this case, his wife Kathy is leaving for the night and he is going to dress in her clothes and, for the first time, experiment with a vibrator. During the course of the proceedings John loses the instrument inside himself and has to go to the hospital to have it removed. In the course of being there Kathy arrives, a nurse brings in his belongings which his wife sees in a clear plastic bag including the vibrator. She becomes furious and leaves him.

You can see how this had to be a song.

I suggested a Bourbon Street stripper kind of song and Colman, being a Hollywood screenwriter who says "yes" to anything which includes sex in a theme whenever possible, said "yes."  It is a pretty straight blues song with tradition jazz overtones that Matt Perrine's arrangement gave it. Also, I had kept the melody in the same key throughout even though there were scene shifts. Matt picked up on the fact that the other songs with scene shifts had different melodies so he wrote key changes into the arrangement at every scene shift to give the song a musical as well as lyrical turn. The rising melodic line also plays into the rising desperation of John's situation.

The band was basic on this. Shane Theriot on guitar. I had never worked with Shane before, he was Matt's call and one of a number of fantastic choices by Matt that helped make the record possible. Shane was professional, completely prepared and totally about what the song needed.  What a player and an asset to the sessions!  Matt, on bass again, kept the low end slithering along. Herman Roscoe Ernest III on drums - a track he could have played in his sleep. He was such a funny man.  This was one of many moments where he made us forget just how much he was hurting from his illness by telling stories and making us laugh til we cried. I explained the scene in the book to him, how it was man dressed like a woman at which point he shot me a look and said, " Hey now, I don't know 'bout this one...". I started telling him how we had written it as a Bourbon Street stripper song, a light went off and he completely understood where we were headed. He smiled and said, "This is like Donna the Bubble Girl." I laughed and said I didn't know about her. "You never heard of Donna the Bubble girl? She had an act on Bourbon street, was a man dressed like a chick, dancing in a giant champagne glass that had bubbles coming out of it." The fact that I could hardly breathe from laughing didn't slow him down as he went on to say, " Bitch was fine too, I wouldn't look though, knew that bitch was a man, played my drums with my head turned the other way." He demonstrated by doing so. The man knew how to make people laugh. What a beautiful cat.

Shamarr Allen is the soloist on the song. Shamarr is without a doubt one of the most electrifying trumpet players you will ever see. He can play the most technically proficient and complex jazz songs thrown at him, he can add the delicacy of melody behind a Willie Nelson song and he can rock a crowd with his horn. He also can give in to the urge to play and misbehave like a ten year old child and in this case I encouraged it. He plays beautifully but the playfulness in his sound effects add as much to the track as the notes. He makes the horn laugh, makes it say "uh oh" and pass wind.  He makes it an instrument of comedy within the context of the song. He is quite something and was an invaluable contributor in playing, arranging songs, co-writing, even writing a track on his own when we decided we needed to add a rap song. One of my favorite guys to work with because he is all about the song, what works to make a track better, works for Shamarr.

Michael Cerveris had agreed to sing the part of John/Joann. I didn't know Michael until after Shelly and I moved back to New Orleans from Belize. He is an actor in films, television. Has won a Tony Award and is a much acclaimed Broadway actor. It is one of the times in my life that I am actually grateful for my "lack of education", as Paul Simon once sang, I was unaware of who he was and his many achievements or almost certainly my life long inability to talk to artists I admire would have taken over. He was in New Orleans to appear in a film a few years ago and was attending a Tift Merrit concert where I was the opening act. He started showing up at my shows and since Shelly was working on the same film, I thought she had talked him into checking out my gigs. I found out that he "likes to sing" as I so innocently/stupidly said of a man who has twenty years experience as a successful actor in MUSICALS, duh! I started asking him to sing in my sets at dba and Chickie Wah-wah not realizing that when back in New York he was singing at Lincoln Center.  

Michael is a very humble fellow who never let on about his own career until I found out from others. During the course of becoming friends he said that if we made a record he would sing a part. I called when we won the Pepsi Refresh grant and asked if he would be alright with singing the part of a man who becomes a woman.  He laughed and told me that any actor on Broadway in New York would be delighted at the chance. At this point I called a friend in New York who is a director and was telling him about the record. I mentioned that Michael Cerveris was to sing a role saying he was, "a young actor from New York that I met when he was working on a film in New Orleans."  My friend, Dickie, is an old friend from New Orleans, the kind of friend who speaks plain English to you.  " Sanchez... you're still a moron. Do you have any idea who this guy is?" and he proceeded to tell me about the Tony Award, the benefits he has done for Lincoln Center  and his performance at Stephen Sondheim's birthday concert. The next time I saw Michael I told him I felt like an idiot for knowing him for so long and not realizing those things.  I asked why he didn't tell me.  He smiled slowly and said, "We-e-e-ll... you kept introducing me as a 'young actor from New York' and I'm your age, I didn't want you to stop calling me young."  A wonderfully humble fellow. He wanted to get some New Orleans Ya't accent into the part and asked about my own accent on the demo because some of the words sounded like a New York pronunciation. I explained that the Catholic Church sent 200 nuns from Brooklyn to New Orleans in the early 1900s to teach and the accent melded with the Creole accent to become, "Hey baby! Where ya't?", a sort of combination drunk/Creole/Brooklyn accent. He liked it and ran with it to the point that his pronunciation of the word "purse" sounds like my mom or one her friends at the Poke-Kino game back in the 60s, "poise".

The first person in the scene with Michael is the wife, Kathy, who is sung by Tara Brewer. Tara is a teacher at NOCCA and a real pro in the studio. She had been singing backups for a week and I dug her vibe and voice so asked her if she would be "Kathy." I didn't know her very well before the session.  Michael had suggested her and I had seen her sing on an episode of Treme last season but I didn't know what a powerful voice and wonderful actress she is. She did not hold back and really had some fun being "'da Queen of Metry" as we put it, very funny and talented.

The next person John encounters is the admit nurse at the hospital and I asked my niece, Natasha, to do the part.  She is an actress, performance artist, songwriter and photographer and my brother George's daughter. She has great comic timing and made the most of a dead pan, unsympathetic nurse. It was fun to watch her work with Michael - my niece standing toe to toe with a Tony Award winning actor so I was a proud uncle. Tasha was completely non-plussed, her father's daughter, a pro. 

Debbie Davis sings the part of the brash nurse who comes into the hospital room carrying John's belongings in a clear plastic bag which allows Kathy to see the vibrator. I told Debbie to really lay on the New Orleans accent, I asked her to be the fourth Pfister Sister. You don't have to ask Debbie Davis to have fun singing more than once.  She ran with it, had fun with it and knocked it out in two passes. 

The backing singers were two of our "chorus" singers, Vatican Lokey, (who was about to leave an indelible impression on me and Nine Lives on another song), and Debbie Davis who was doing double duty as a featured singer and backing vocalist on this one. I wanted to add some male voices as well, I kept calling it "the voice of John's sexual subconscious". I called my friend Bill Lynn - "Swami Bill" from his days in John Sinclair"s Blues Scholars, "Cardinal Bill" to the members of the Krewe of Bike-us. Bill is a guitarist, artist, producer and has been a real support system to his friends since the flood with advice, experience, occasionally listening to them cry and always reminding them to get on with the business of living. He has a vast knowledge of and understanding of music, appreciates the craft of it. I told him about the song.  He dug that it was off the wall.  I said I wanted a bass voice and would he sing the role of John's sexual subconscious on some background parts.  Bill has a sense of humor and said it wouldn't be the first time he played the part of the sexual subconscious.

My final back up singer and member of the "sexual subconscious choir" is Davis Rogan. Davis is a larger than life character in many ways and to be in his presence is to be awash in nervous energy, ideas that flow one into the next and a conversation that will end abruptly as he disappears to pursue one of a hundred paths that have crossed his mind. I'm not sure he knew what to make of being asked to sing the part of the sexual subconscious, I thought he would dig the joke but he just gave me a sideways look and asked to hear the part. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I can do that.  I'll see you tomorrow." That tomorrow got postponed three times due to his schedule working as a writer and creative consultant on Treme but also do as much to Davis navigating the world in a way that is unique to him. I always find myself amused and interested when I see him; amused and exhausted when he has left. It is a rare thing to watch a mind work that fast and you can almost see his eyes blinking like a computer rebooting as he continues talking while walking away from you.

Matt Perrine set the track up with a smooth as silk arrangement, Shamarr played with playfulness, Michael exchanged energy and timing with the other singers and Now That Kathy's Gone came inappropriately to life.

Joann, whom the song was written about, was to come to the studio later in the sessions to watch Michael record a disco track called Full Time Joann. While she was in the studio, we played her the tracks that were written about her but when we got to this one Colman was uncomfortable about being in the room. He came up and whispered, "I don't know... it's pretty graphic." I turned to Joann and explained that Colman was unsure about playing this one because it was the scene in the book where "John is experimenting with the vibrator and loses it".  Joann corrected me, "Honey I didn't lose it. I knew where it was!"

I wanted three gossipy nurses at the end of the song, sort of walking down the hall talking about the incident as the song fades. My wife Shelly is a set dresser on films and her sister-in-law Christy is a nurse.  Our friend, Angelle, is a school teacher who lives and teaches in London. None are performers. All three are products of the New Orleans Catholic school system and have as pronounced a New Orleans accent as anyone I could have hired. This coupled with the fact that they worked for free got them cast as my gossipy nurses.

Now That Kathy is Gone is comedically, tragically and wonderfully New Orleans. 

THE MAKING OF NINE LIVES: TOOTIE, TRACK 8

Tootie was a complicated song to tackle from it's inception. 

It is about Big Chief Tootie Montana of the Yellow Pocahontas. 

There is no word more important in dealing with the Indian culture of New Orleans than the word "RESPECT." You respect the chief, the tribe, the traditions. Everything else flows from there, all things beautiful, frightful, poetic, tragic, noble and down right fun, starts with the word "respect."

This song is from a wonderful scene in Dan Baum's Nine Lives. It's Mardi Gras morning and Tootie is still working on his suit as many Indians do up until the last minute. His wife, Joyce, is trying to hurry him because he is due to appear at Gallier Hall to toast the King Of Rex along with Mayor Morial. It is the first time an Indian Chief has been asked to take part in an official toast with the King Of Carnival and everyone is excited... except for Tootie who will not be rushed. Colman found an arresting first line to begin with, Joyce singing "Tootie, put down that needle!" and we wanted it to be a duet between Tootie and Joyce but everything about this song, the writing, casting the singers, recording it, was done with much thought about how to interpret but not violate the very traditions we were trying to honor.

We wrote the song sticking as strictly to Dan's words as we could, particularly the Indian chants which I figured he had been careful to notate and didn't want to mess with his interpretations. The trick was to write one part singable for a woman and a different part singable for a man. It meant some key shifts and form in a style of music that while based in form is improvisational by nature and by need so these concepts came with some things to consider.  This had to be a pop song, based in the Indian traditions but a pop song nonetheless. It could not allow for improvisation because it had to move the story along but had to feel like improvisation.

We came up with an acoustic demo that satisfied us but it sounded better in my head than it did on the demo. I was having trouble singing the melody while playing the African 3-beat needed to get the proper feel for Tootie to sound like a Mardi Gras Indian song. 

It has long been a dream of mine to make an album that included as many Boutté family singers as I could. They are heavenly together on stage, the singing is angelic and I wanted that heaven wrapped around my songs at some point in my writing career. I have been warned by the non-singing members of the family, including their mother Gloria, that to attempt such a thing could be hazardous to my health. The Boutté family are indeed heavenly together on stage and are equally fiery off stage, mostly with each other. Lifelong sibling rivalries that come complete with an elegant way of expressing themselves which can turn saltier than the language of the longshoremen I grew up around in a heartbeat. I had seen them at home fussing in the kitchen and I had seen them fill peoples hearts with joy at the beauty of their singing. I figured it was well worth the effort and I was not wrong. 

Lolet was the first Boutté I met, even before John and I became friends. She used to be the imposing figure at the front desk in the Offbeat offices. Later, when John and I became friends, she reminded me of it and barked at me, "Baby you didn't need to be scared of me!" laughing but she's still imposing to me. Last year Lolet and Teedy came home for Jazz Fest.  She had lived in Houston since the flood but is home now, and I ran into them while visiting John at the house he had renovated after the flood. The house had belonged to Mamou, their aunt, and had been in the family for years. I am always pleased to meet a Boutté and very respectful because their introductions are formal before they feel comfortable enough around the new person to tell them to "Shut the fuck up". When introduced to Lolet, I said, "It's very nice to meet you". She raised a Boutté eyebrow at me and I wondered what I had said wrong. She said, "Baby, you know me!", I said I didn't think we had met. She proceeded to recount the many times we had met including having sat and visited on that very porch before Katrina. Lolet used to live in Mamou's house before the flood. I was struck dumb by the shock of realizing that I had put so much effort into forgetting everything since the flood, that I had forgotten my life before the flood.  It was a stunning moment. As I said, she hadn't even moved back yet and was very sweet and forgiving about my not remembering. She understood.

Lolet had told me about Teedy having been an Indian and how she would be great to sing Joyce Montana. I wanted Teedy on the record (and Boutté women are tough to say no to) so, while I might have chosen a different song for Teedy, I sent along the acoustic demo of Tootie. Only in New Orleans does someone named Teedy sing a tune about someone named Tootie, Life here is a beautiful song if you are listening. I don't like sending acoustic demos as a rule because it makes the singer have to think too much. The song is complete in my head so an acoustic guitar demo is alright for me to learn it or even teach the basic chords to a band. For a singer to appreciate a song, especially if you are asking them to sing it, you should give a more complete demo so they can begin to trust you, the process and ultimately, the song.  With the internet it is simple enough to go online, find out what key your singer likes and write the arrangement in that key. Time was such a factor with this project because it was a grant and there was a time limit on the money being used and work being shown for it. Teedy, who I had worked with in the studio on a record years ago and knew a little, wrote back to say that she wasn't feeling the demo. I was disappointed but not too surprised since I knew my feel was off. Very hard to hear the Indian song inside the old white rocker playing acoustic guitar over a pop song. Like Buddy Holly sending an acoustic demo of Iko Iko to the Dixie Cups. I really wanted Teedy, in part because by this time the other Bouttés had all told me what Lo had, that she would crush this number. I wanted to make a proper demo of the song to get across how it sounded in my head so I called Peter Boutté, Vance Vaucresson and Ruben Watts,

Peter Boutté, John's younger brother, is a visual artist, a painter, but is also a poet and singer. He and a cousin to the Boutté family, Ruben Watts, have an informal musical/poetry act they have been working on - Peter chanting his poetry over Ruben's percussion. It is something I've wanted to record since I first heard John's cousin, Vance Vaucresson, spontaneously break into a chant/song while we were taking a break from rehearsing for John's Jazz Fest set in 2006. I gave them the demo of Tootie and explained what I was looking for and they got it immediately. Ruben even suggested we keep the instrumentation as bare as possible saying that Tootie only liked bass and percussion. I had to take them through the song a few times to get them to stick to form and not break off into improv as the form normally calls for. Peter sang a very high falsetto on the Joyce part for Teedy to learn and Vance sang the part of Tootie which would be sung by Glen David Andrews. The demo was just what I wanted for Toottie and I sent it along. Teedy understood what Colman and I had been trying to get across and agreed to sing Joyce. Glen David was busy, his career has been really taking off as he focuses his intense energy on moving forward with his life. He said he wouldn't have much time to learn the song but he trusted me and loved Teedy, He said he'd be there.

The song requires timing between the two main singers and the background singers, Vance and Peter were to sing the part of the Spyboy and Wildman chanting in the song. It had to be cut live to get the energy, timing, and community of an Indian song. It had to respect the tradition while not trying to be the tradition. I think the fact that we were not trying to lay claim to this being an authentic Indian song made it easier for everyone to move forward as the assembled talent knew far better then I about respecting the traditions we were attempting to interpret in song. 

Mark Bingham, owner of Piety, had become increasingly interested in the project and was offering suggestions on singers and players. I took most of his suggestion and everyone I used made Nine Lives a better record. I asked him if he would play bass on this track. Mark has recorded every type of New Orleans music there is in his years here and has recorded Indian songs many times. He happily agreed which made me happy because he had been such an asset to the record that I wanted him on as a player. Partly because he would know how to keep it simple and groovy while still understanding that it is ultimately a pop song and not an Indian song and partly because having friends on your record it is a way to keep friends close so I invited lots of friends on this record and Mark had become one.

Wes Fontenot, the engineer, also has a lot of experience on this kind of session and knew to have the mics ready in the room.  He was waiting and knew to stay out of the way. Glen arrived last along with his cousin, Revert "Peanut" Andrews, who I had invited to play trombone on the track. I invited Peanut because i dig the tone of his trombone but also because I knew that having his cousin there would help calm Glen who is immensely, massively talented as a singer but still gets nervous in the studio like most folks.  It is not a natural way to make music until you get around it a bit. He came into the studio anxious, stalking like a panther looking for a way to break out. Then he saw Teedy and the sweet, mischievous side of him came out as they hugged, teased, told stories, welcomed each other home. The work was done in the demo. Peter, Vance and Ruben knew exactly how to play the song, Teedy had learned it perfectly and is a real pro in the studio so she was ready to knock it out. Glen was running from one gig and headed to another, anxious about being late, anxious about being the studio, near grumpy but trying to be nice because he likes me. It was the perfect attitude for Tootie who was known to have been prickly at times. Teedy was calming him with jokes, as Joyce was in the song. The "Indians" Peter, Ruben and Vance, all had known Glen since he was a kid and were playfully teasing and helping him. Vance sang the melody along with him until Glen was ready to grab that song by the throat and throw it to the floor. It did not take long. The first take was so absent of Glen that Colman nervously walked over to ask if it was going to work. By the second take, Glen had begun to get his voice and mind around what the song was doing and he waved off Vance's helpful guide vocal. Take three saw Glen growling defiantly with the spirit of Tootie in his performance, Teedy had been giving it all for every take but instantly saw that Glen was on and amped up her own performance knowing we had a keeper.  The fellas had been rock solid for me since the demo and nailed the take. Glen hugged everyone and ran out of the studio, late for a gig but also feeling caged, as he often does, by the studio, the crowded room, by life, by time. I don't think he even realized what a brilliant performance he had just laid down.

New Orleans is full of musical traditions that I revere. I have come to grasp them more fully as I have gotten older and in these last few years when hanging on to the past has become more essential. I wanted to capture tis scene as a pop song to make the story and a bit of this surreal, beautiful culture accessible to folks around the country. Colman and I laid out a solid song but the track was given life by the artists who played it. They grew up in the 6th and 7th Wards. These traditions are in their very DNA, as much a part of their upbringing as "once upon a time their was a princess..." is to children in most other cities in the country. Tootie, Mardi Gras Indians, tradition, RESPECT.

THE MAKING OF NINE LIVES: BRING THE MOUNTAIN TO HIM, TRACK 9

I was the tenth child of eleven growing up in the Irish Channel neighborhood of New Orleans. A neighborhood of working class and Irish, German, French and Spanish families, a tough neighborhood even when times were good. 

Music is something poor folks can have in their lives because it's in the air. We were poor but I always remember music in the house. My mother was always whistling and singing while she worked around the house. The records of my older siblings, one had the soundtrack to the life story of Hank Williams - (starring George Hamilton no less) -with the singing done by Hank "Bocephus" Williams Jr. hanging on a wall. Another sister had a big poster of Elvis hanging, there was a copy of The Beatles first record that had a picture of each of their faces and each face on the copy in our house had a lipstick print on it. Music was on WTIX the Top Forty A.M radio station of the day in New Orleans, music was played in the bars of the neighborhood. Pete Fountain's Half-Fast Marching Club came through on St. Joseph's Day. My brothers Andrew, Joseph and John all played horns in drum and bugle corps growing up so horns were always blowing in the house. There was always somebody singing, playing or dancing. For me music has always been escape, or at least the hope that I could escape and hope is something one can live on for a life time.

We had all of this growing up but we did not have Mardi Gras Indians, I didn't know the thrill of hearing "Indians coming" yelled out of every doorway on the block by young and old with equal excitement. I didn't grow up hearing their exotic language of frightening yells, chats, and songs in a code meant to exclude all but the knowing. I did not see the glorious colors and heroic nobility with the eyes of a child who could grow up to respect the traditions to the point where you think the rest of the world are fools for not knowing. John Boutte introduced me to that world, a world which if you enter respectfully and with an open heart you are likely to see such beauty as to make you catch your breath, have tears in your eyes and laugh out loud, perhaps all in the same moment. Glen David Andrews had me play my first second line last year when I joined him for the Bury the 'Aint's Second Line he organized. Shamarr Allen explained the nuances of buck jumping and how it is different from one ward to the next, (if you point your toes in when you dance it may be a tell of where you are from). 

What Colman and I had for Bring The Mountain To Him was more of a concept than a song. At the end of the Tootie scene, Mayor Morial arrives at Tootie and Joyce's house because he knows the intractable Tootie will not go to Gallier Hall if his suit is not finished.

I asked my friend Jacques Morial to record the part of his father, Mayor Morial for the track. Jaques was familiar with Dan Baum's book in fact is quoted in the book at the start saying, "New Orleans is still full of brigands, freebooters, mercenaries, and slaves." I asked him if he would speak the words his father spoke to Tootie that morning, "from what I've heard about Tootie Montana, he's not going to budge until his suit is finished. So, since Mohamed won't come to the mountain, I brought the mountain to him." Jacques smiled, he has the sweetest smile, and said "I remember that Mardi Gras, the morning my father had to go to his house." He said he'd be glad to be the voice of his father for Nine Lives which was and is an honor. It is was lovely that he did so with his sister, Judge Monique Morial, looking on. I thought it might be a solemn moment for her as Jacques recorded the words her father spoke in Dan's book but Monique - who went to high school with my wife Shelly - laughed like any sister would and said, "he and Mark both think they sound like my father but they don't" but she was smiling and proud all the same.

For this song I called Peter Boutte, Ruben Watts and Vance Vaucresson who are all cousins to each other. They are not Indians but Ruben is a percussionist who understands the beats and grooves of the music, (John Boutte says Ruben plays grooves so deep he calls up the spirits). Peter and Vance write songs spontaneously over Ruben's grooves which they later refine into structured songs to improv around. Colman and I gave them the concept and the first lines of the song which is what Mayor Morial says to Tootie in the book and told them to take it from there with story about a Big Chief not wanting to be rushed in finishing the sewing of his costume. I only asked that the groove be different from Tootie.

Wes Fontenot, the Piety studio engineer, had the room set up with mics and waiting for a live recording. I must say something about Wes. We have over a hundred people performing on Nine Lives which meant that over a hundred egos came through the studio from fragile to sizeable and not once, not ever was Wes Fontenot's ego an issue. He did brilliant work, instinctively knew when to be a friendly presence to the person recording and when to vanish. I can't say enough about Wes's contributions to making this record and just how much I came to rely on him in these sessions.

The percussionists and singers wanted to be in the same room, the track was all feel and instinct. They were going to develop musical and lyrical themes they had played with and I would edit that into a song. It was not the last time on this record that I would trust another songwriter to finish a song, something which surprised a few folks but made sense to me. I had been working with these guys since before the flood through John Boutte. Had played the last Jazz Fest before the flood with Vance and Ruben for John's set in the Jazz Tent what seems like a happy life time ago. I have heard their demos, watched them write and produced a demo for them so I wasn't asking blind. I like being a part of this musical community for that very reason, the diversity of styles. Some times the best way to cross into a different style is with a trusted friend. I knew what they could give me and I wanted it for Bring The Mountain To Him and the fellas did not let me down. They lit it up the studo and the track,  I just listened from the control room. The short hand way of working that family has but also, because they play together a lot, that directness that musicians who work together a lot have with each other that would seem blunt if there were not so much love in the room.

They had worked out some great melody bits, planning on multi tracking so Vance could harmonize with his own voice and Peter could work more chants and singing in around the parts he had created. The track is jumping, has breath, it's electric and bursting with so much feeling that I could almost see the brightly colored feathers dancing by me. 

It was three minutes of fun that needed to become a minute and a half of "yeah baby". They had worked out themes in the song but each took a few seconds to come together as the lsiened and searched for each other. Each part hung around for a few seconds before the next theme stuck it's head out to begin. Wes and I listened for a few hours as we chose the parts that sounded developed and complete as musical ideas. it was so much fun to catch the feeling of where they connected, hanging on while the jam jelled and finding the point at which it releases into the next bit.

Bring The Mountain To Him was started by Colman and I but the song came to life with the writing, singing, playing and arranging that Peter Boutte, Vance Vaucresson and Ruben Watts and I love them for it.

THE MAKING OF NINE LIVES: TRACK 10

COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE

This song was special, seductive even, for Colman and I from the moment we decided to write it.

It is a scene in Nine Lives where Wilbert Rawlins Sr. has been injured at work and, in part to teach his son Wilbert Rawlins Jr. a lesson about responsibility, still makes his gig as drummer for Irma Thomas, the legendary Soul Queen of New Orleans.

Colman lives in Los Angeles but has been coming to Jazz Fest for 20 years. He loves New Orleans and he loves the singing of Irma Thomas. For me, growing up in New Orleans, this was too good to pass up. I was so excited to write an Irma Thomas song, we half hoped she might sing it herself some day but that seemed like a crazy dream two years ago.

The thing about writing an Irma Thomas song is that her songs, those recordings, that style of arranging, all are at the very roots of rock n' roll as I know it. Allen Toussaint is the name that appears on many of the New Orleans records from this period as a songwriter, a musician, an arranger, a producer or all of these on the same record. I am a song writer from New Orleans and, for me, the songs of Allen Toussaint are the measuring stick by which other songwriters from New Orleans will be judged. I wanted the inviting lyrics of the New Orleans of my youth, something Irma could sing with tenderness but Mick Jagger might make sexual like Time Is On My Side. I wanted the musical nuance and emotional longing of It's Raining; I can still see the 45rpm single of that song on my sisters’ turntable back on First Street in the Irish Channel.

In New Orleans she only needs one name. You say that Irma is singing and folks know who you mean. As a lifelong fan, the idea of writing a song with these high standards was thrilling. I learned how to slow dance to Irma's songs when I was a boy. I listened to her voice on long, soul searching drives around town in my 20's. There has never been a time in my life when Irma Thomas was anything but a legend in New Orleans.

All of this said if I hadn't taken two years of guitar lessons from John Rankin leading up to this moment, Colman and I would have been in big trouble. Many of our sessions were just John and I talking about music, its course through history and New Orleans and these talks came back to me time and again as I tried to write songs that sounded right for the decade they took place in but remained tied to the same thread.

In an interview, Louis Armstrong was asked what he thought "about this rock n' roll craze sweeping the country." Pops replied, "Well, it's just the same old gut-bucket blues we used to play back in New Orleans when I was coming up. Only now, they play real loud and nobody listens for the beautiful parts." The nuances of chord progressions that I hadn't learned in over a decade of being in a rock band were needed for the goals I had set for this song musically and I squeezed every bit of what John Rankin taught me into making the changes slide, slight/sleight and slip into place. I just had to listen for the beautiful parts.

Colman wanted a dreamy feel with the words and music because he wanted the scene to end with Irma singing young Wilbert to sleep. We went online and watched You Tube videos of Irma through the years to discuss what style of song to use I listened for what keys she was singing in to make sure the song was recorded in a key that was in her vocal sweet spot so she would be both comfortable and her voice at its most full.

Two years later we had a grant from the Pepsi Refresh contest and were on the sidewalk, (banquette I would have said as a child), waiting for the arrival of Irma Thomas like two nervous school boys, freshly scrubbed, well dressed and pacing between the sidewalk and the console. Irma arrived alone - no entourage, no assistant, no attitude and totally prepared to work. When asked if taking a picture was alright, she jokingly replied that if someone wanted a picture of her looking like a grandmother that was fine because that's who she is and she's proud of it but she wasn't getting fixed up for photos. She said it laughing, while posing for the picture and we all melted at how gracious a pro she was.

Matt had really done a wonderful arrangement. He was taking very seriously that this was Irma Thomas and he wanted the arrangement to be something that she would dig and something her heart would respond to as well.

Herman Roscoe Ernest III was on this session. Herman had actually played gigs with Irma many times over the years, even sitting in for Wilbert Rawlins Sr. on gigs when he fell ill later in life. He remembered Wil Sr. playing gigs with his hand wrapped for a while after that accident. It felt good that Herman liked the tune and could hear Irma singing it since he had played with her many times.

Musically, Matt Perrine has an overall picture of what his arrangements should sound like right down to his selection of bass, electric, acoustic upright or sousaphone. The choice is never casual. He has thought it out and debated endlessly with himself the reasons for the choice musically, sonically and artistically. Matt entered the big room at Piety carrying his electric bass for the track and Herman asked casually if he was playing electric bass on this track. Matt started to explain in detail the progression of songs, passing of time in the book and how he was building toward electric instruments thematically for the overall piece. Herman said, "That's cool baby. It's just, you know, if you think about it, back in those days this track would have an upright bass on it." Matt stopped walking instantly, like a light bulb had just gone off and said, of course, Herman was absolutely correct and why didn't he think of that. As prepared as he was for this arrangement and that instrumentation he changed on the spot because it was right for the song. It was one of many moments that I was glad to have Matt on the sessions.

Matt's arrangement included a wonderful backing vocal that Colman and I kept referring to as The Irma-ettes, as if it were really the name of her backing group. Debbie Davis, Arsénne Delay and Tara Brewer were the Irma-ettes and as I heard the arrangement take life in the backing sessions, I grew more excited about hearing Irma's voice on the track.

The backing singers had begun to develop a wonderful chemistry that has since turned into wonderful friendships and it continued to nurture a vibe of community on the record. In part because Matt's arrangements were such work that they bonded by helping each other learn them but also we had lucked into hiring a group of very sweet, very funny and very talented singers who worked when they had to and laughed when they needed to release some tension.

The lyrics of the song referenced a saxophone playing and Matt had written in a sax solo over a key change at the center of the song which Jason Mingledorff played beautifully. Shane Theriot, on guitar, is so at home in the studio that I didn't think twice about how he would adapt his style of playing to the song. I just waited, watched and learned.

The lushly brilliant Tom McDermott played piano and again I just like watching Tom. I'm pleased that the project has given us a bridge across our eccentricities so we can communicate but for the longest time I have just watched him. In awe of his genius and mystified by the way he sits oddly on the edge of a scene and somehow right at the center of it. A mind so filled with music that conversations are left dangling but solos never are.

He seems like the kind of fellow I could sit and talk with for hours but he is a gentle fellow and I am not. There is an Irish Channel directness in me that sensitive folks can see coming a mile away. I try to keep that in mind hoping I don't rock someone's world. The end result is I often find myself in a corner of a room full of people I admire wishing I knew what to say. One thing I love about John Boutté is his gift of seeming like an instant friend, huggable and loveable. I do not see myself as either and find it easier to remain a fan and give folks their space.

John Gros came in to play Hammond B-3 organ on the track and I was happy to see him. John and I have bumped into each other for years when I was playing in a rock band and, while we have never played together before, he always has a big smile for me and makes it easy to feel comfortable around him. The track was so beautiful already and the B-3 just added the gorgeous icing on the cake of Could Have Been Worse … which brings us back to Irma.

She asked to listen to the track at the console and have me sing along with her to make sure she got the melody right. I could have fallen down I was so happy. I was standing side by side with a New Orleans legend, teaching her how to sing a song I had co-written just for her.

Heaven.

We sang together on the first pass. On the second pass she said she had the verse but wanted me to sing the bridge with her again. I started singing the bridge with her but she was singing a different melody than I had written and she was singing it in a different place, changing the phrasing so it became call and response with the backing vocal. I started to correct her, thinking she needed help, but she held up her hand to me - I'm still thrilled that Irma Thomas gave me "the hand" - letting me know she didn't need the help. I realized that she was re-writing the bridge on the spot and it was brilliant. It is similar to when I write with John Boutté. There are songs we have written together that John will tell people he didn't have much to do with but altering a melody, word or the phrasing of the song in such a way to make it better is instinctive in a great singer and if the changes are more than improv, it becomes “writing.“

After the session we talked about it, I explained to Colman how much she had altered the bridge and without hesitation he agreed to give Irma a song writing credit on the track. We both figured that if the song ever made money we would be sharing it with someone who more than deserved it and if it didn't ever make money we would still have our names on a song with a legend. A win/win, karmically speaking. I was told later that we really didn't have to share the credit and answered that was all the more reason to do it. I wondered aloud how many times in her career Irma may have altered a melody enough to make a song memorable and not gotten a credit for it.

As for her tracking the song, she had me at “Hello.”

I have produced many sessions and someone like Irma knows what she is capable of and is most often more demanding on themselves than any producer would be. I give a singer like Irma Thomas, John Boutté or Kevin Griffin a lot of space to tell me when they have arrived at the place where they know they have given the song what it wanted.

Singers that good just know.

I had made the mistake of inviting a journalist to the sessions, something I normally wouldn't do but was so swept up with the community and vibe of the sessions that I thought a writer should be there to capture it. Unfortunately this writer thought he was there to do more than observe and began giving advice about how to produce Irma's vocals, telling me I could be more demanding. I found myself in the awkward position of trying to explain to him off mic that I was allowing her to create a comfort zone, while encouraging her on mic to continue to do so by simply saying, "That was great for me. How do you feel?” knowing that when she had it she would tell me. A great singer has pride and won't leave the studio without having left something that represents them well. A great singer also doesn't dig being over worked or pushed past the point of things being productive because the producer is "looking for magic".

Letting the press in was a mistake I would pay for again on Nine Lives but in this case Irma didn't hear any of what was said and I let the fellow feel listened to because I like to make people feel good but also making a note not to ask him back to the sessions.

Irma was fine after her fourth take, announcing that was as good as she could sing it and if we wanted more we could hire a different Irma Thomas. Again she said all of this laughing and being very charming, obviously aware of how much we revered her.

We stood shoulder to shoulder listening to the play back, a memory I will cherish. She chuckled at her own improvs and remarked on favorite bits. Colman and I exchanged relieved looks of joy, again like two little boys just thrilled beyond words to have manifested the moment together.

Mark Bingham was on hand for the whole session and I was grateful. His ease at chatting with Irma helped early in the day. His love of New Orleans music was evident in his eyes as he looked on smiling but listening intensely while privately whispering to Wes about microphone choices and placement.

At the end of the session as Irma was leaving she said to make sure she got a copy of the song and the words because she wanted to put it in her act. Later, I asked Colman what he would do if he went to an Irma Thomas show and heard her sing our song. He said he would probably throw up on the guy in front of him.

Just a warning if you happen to be standing near Colman at an Irma show in the near future.

It was that awkward time where she had to go and we didn't want to let go of this special moment, all saying for the umpteenth time how honored we were by her being on the record. Irma mentioned that someone was talking about doing a movie of her life and Mark Bingham said "they should get Jennifer Lopez to play you." Irma said, "At least they'll get one body part right."

With that remark, Irma Thomas, the legendary Soul Queen of New Orleans, exited the Nine Lives sessions.