From the earliest writing stages for The Flyover States I knew we needed to incorporate a song about the City of New Orleans. The Crescent City, unlike any other place in the country, is such a cultural gem in our national landscape. While it may not stand on the grandest of stages, competing with the likes of our economic and political powerhouse metropolises, the city’s influence is pronounced and unmistakeable.
New Orleans certainly resonates with Eliot & Eads as well—Sam has lived in the city for the last five years; the man literally lives and breathes all things NOLA. The Mississippi River was another channel of relation for all of us. I think, having grown up on a river town, there was a shared history, of sorts, that spoke to us.
An early point of inspiration for our New Orleans song, the ninth track on our album: “Storyville, or Orleans Reverie,” was jazz. Alex, Sam, and I started playing jazz music together when we were in high school—and we became pretty accomplished in performing botched covers of John Coltrane, Herbie Hancock and Oscar Peterson tunes. The lore surrounding jazz musicians in New Orleans—Buddy Bolden & Jelly Roll Morton in particular—made for some great writing material.
“In the realm of jazz myths, no one stands taller or blows louder than King Buddy Bolden… The most frequent boasts concerning Bolden’s prowess relate to the loudness of his playing and the snake-charmer seductiveness of his approach to slow blues. Jelly Roll Morton claimed that ‘on a still night,’ Bolden’s cornet could be heard as far away as twelve miles, the distance between the Mississippi Riverfront and Lake Pontchartrain” (Jazz, Giddins & DeVeaux, 2009).
- Quick note: I definitely recommend reading up on the life of Buddy Bolden. Maybe one photograph of the man survives. He is said to be one of the fore-father of New Orleans jazz music—but no recordings of his music exist. Bolden was committed to an insane asylum at the age of 30, where he spent the rest of his life.
Mr. Justin Snyder recording trumpet for the song.
Pete, Sam, and Alex practicing prior to recording “Storyville.”
With this, and much more, we wrote and recorded the song. I took the acoustic guitar, Sam was on banjo, and Alex did a bang up job on the drums. We recorded “Storyville” unlike any other track on the record: the guitar and banjo were recorded “live” together in the studio; drums and then vocals were added next. A great friend, Justin Snyder, played a boozy, sultry trumpet on the tune, which really rounded out the sound nicely. We then incorporated a field recording of a New Orleans streetcar which Sam provided; the recording added a deeper level of authenticity to the song. From there, the trumpet and a quiet acoustic guitar play us out of the track, into a moment of transition, and well on our way to the next tune: “Axum & Alabaster.”
“Storyville, or Orleans Reverie”
Pick it good and pick it clean,
I just met the VooDoo Queen.
The things I done, the things I seen
Don’t compare to New Orleans.
On the stillest night the King would reign
From Riverfront to Pontchartrain.
Johnson Park’s own hurricane,
A trumpet player among insane.
Captain said that we’re sinking fast.
Waters rise don’t forget your past.
Crescent City with a heart of gold
I sat there singing, “Let the Good Times Roll!”
Cafe au lait, Jelly Roll,
“The Dead Man Blues,” and the church bells toll.
Shades of black, white, and Creole;
The fish is tied to the fishin’ pole.
Jack be nimble, Jack be quick,
Found himself on a candlestick.
Hit the bottle and didn’t quit,
Now I’m the only one who’s lit.
Captain said that we’re sinking fast.
Good or bad we don’t shun our past.
Crescent City with a heart of gold,
I sat there singing, “Let the Good Times Roll!”
Mississippi steam boats dock,
The trumpet wails till four o’clock,
I’m out here on this city block,
Ghost lurk out for a midnight walk.
In the South I’ve found a friend,
The Delta, Bayou, coastline end.
My ignorance, I may amend,
It whispers up the river bend.
Whispers up the river bend.
