We've heard the songs before, so what makes Kermit Ruffins' "We Partyin' Traditional Style" special?
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[Updated] My relationship to Kermit Ruffins' music is complicated. When I've been most down on it, I thought he sold nostalgia for a moment that never existed; when I've been most enthusiastic, I've celebrated the clear, uncomplicated humanity in his musical voice. There are times when I felt like he'd held himself to too low a standard, letting some vocals make it to record that really weren't there, but he has also loved New Orleans in a way that goes deeper than the lyrics in his songs about it. He's a success story who merits the attention he's received, but the attention invites backlash at the same time. When I was at OffBeat, someone sent a subscription card back with the image of a Kermit cover on it with the message in capital letters: "Find another negro to stalk."
Ruffins' career has become like many New Orleans musical success stories: He found his thing; now what? Once he established himself as leading advocate for good times in New Orleans and the Treme, where was there to go? He cut a live album at Vaughan's that was fine, but it was nowhere near as much fun as being at Vaughan's on a Thursday night. He did a good Christmas album, but Christmas albums are placeholders in almost every artist's catalog. He dressed his sound up, he played standards, but there was little there that wasn't implied by his musical persona. Nothing gave a greater sense of what it means to miss New Orleans, or a richer understanding of a Treme Saturday night.
That said, how much musical ambition does he have to have? In the first episode of Treme, Davis (Steve Zahn) asks the on-screen Ruffins, "D'ja just stand there and tell me all you want to do is get high, play some trumpet and barbecue in New Orleans your whole damn life?"
Kermit answers, "That'll work."
NPR's Josh Jackson wrote about that exchange: "I think there's a little tension, the kind that comes from the frustration of someone putting their own aspirations on someone else's shoulders. Kermit Ruffins isn't against fame and fortune. Like everyone else, he just wants it on his own terms." And it's hard to argue with a musician with sane priorities. If we had our lives set up so that we could drink beer and barbecue with friends, bullshit about the Saints, play softball and play music on our schedule, we'd take it. He tours if people make it worth his while, but he makes them really want it.
In fact, he embodies one of Treme's most accurate observations in the way that the show treats New Orleans' musicians not as artists but as workers. Music is what they make and it's important to them, but if touring means missing half of the Saints season, priorities snap into focus. When it comes time for a new album, he could explore new ground, or he could cut We Partyin' Traditional Style and do songs he knows and loves such as "Chinatown, My Chinatown," "Careless Love," "When It's Sleepy Time Down South," and "When the Saints Go Marching In."
As familiar as the song list is, one of the places where Ruffins' do-whatcha-wanna aesthetic serves him well is that he performs with the best musicians he can get when he goes in the studio. As such, on this traditional jazz-oriented album, he is joined by Shannon Powell (drums), Steve Pistorius (piano), Richard Moten (bass), Don Vappie (banjo), Lucien Barbarin (trombone), and Tom Fischer (clarinet), who kill throughout. Their contributions bring out the best in Ruffins, and the arrangements consistently put his trumpet and his voice in their best contexts. He frequently sings the larger message of his songs - "I love New Orleans!" - instead of the sentiments the words express, but on We Partyin' Traditional Style, he's present in the song and trusts the ensemble efforts to deliver his bigger messages.
I'm often like Davis outside Vaughan's on Treme, frustrated that Ruffins refuses to be a part of the musician narrative - become big locally, tour, release more music, get bigger nationally, etc. - because there's something so powerful about having people from all walks of life all across the country connect to the same thing. It's a feeling that we get most viscerally at concerts and sporting events, and it's part of the subtext of American Idol and The Voice, as millions of people are responding to something at the same time, even if they can't see or hear each other. At a time when people can find a million ways to subdivide us, those mass moments seem even more valuable.
At the same time, carrying the hopes and wishes of millions is heavy business, and it's remarkably sane of Ruffins to scale down his career to the point where it meets his needs, not ours. Time and again we see artists and events that grow not because they should but because they can, and they suffer as a result. And if he services his career with recordings as solid as We Partyin' Traditional Style, then there's not much we can complain about.
Updated June 5, 10:28 a.m.
The Soundcloud player with "Over the Waves" was added to the story after its initial publication, and after the questions in the Comments section about whether readers would like the album.
Your Spilt Milk
Why try so hard for innovation or finding a new audience all the time when New Orleans has a machine to bring a new audience year round? If you can sit in one place and let half a dozen universities put new kids in your clubs every year, why go on the road and pay for all the overhead? You don't need new art if you have new listeners, that's why New Orleans is like a musical time capsule.
True, but there's a simpler question: why innovate? Does a roofer try to find new ways to bang down shingles each year? Does an accountant try to figure out a different way of doing taxes? Or do they simply try to do a good job each year? I see Kermit as simply trying to do his job well.
Don't mistake my intent...the New Orleans musician is something that most in the U.S. aren't - a true working man's musician. They don't spend more time taking Instagram photos of themselves with vintage gear than playing music. That's admirable. I wasn't suggesting that Kermit should innovate, or expand his market, but that New Orleans musicians have a particular luxury that most musicians don't - they have a market that provides a constant feast of opportunities for a working musician, and the only thing they have to fend off is the naive critique that they're just playing "nostalgia music" or that they've "failed" to elevate themselves to the national spotlight.
The requirements of art are not necessarily that you must do something different every time you do what you do. The perceived necessity to tour, appear on national television and build your brand is a pop music requirement and Kermit is clearly not a pop musician, as someone like Harry Connick Jr. or Trombone Shorty is. That's neither praise nor condemnation. Alex is being subjective by suggesting that Kermit's decision not to tour is because he doesn't want to miss Saints games. And Josh may be flat out wrong that Kermit really covets that kind of a lifestyle, just on his terms. If you are forced to be an American Celebrity you really do give up your life on a day-to-day basis and Kermit clearly doesn't want to do that. He has no more responsibility to leave his neighborhood to do what he does than Bobby Charles did. The narrative about Kermit as a new Armstrong was created by those of us in the media in reaction to his demonstrable strengths as a writer and performer. Maybe some of our readers are sick of us asking the celebrity questions, or forcing him into the cliché celebrity role by being the cover subject. His music in the end is what he wants it to be, just as Alex and Josh and I choose what we want to write about. This piece is much less about Kermit than it is about Alex's thoughts on what a musician or a pop figure (I think the distinction is in order here) owes his or her audience. As usual Alex has a great take on the media angle of this story, and I really love his read that Treme shows New Orleans musicians as job holders, not stars. Not that some of them aren't stars. New Orleans musicians who want that role and are willing to pay the price it requires can certainly become celebrities, and those that make it are usually pretty damn good at it. Thanks for the thoughtful and thought-provoking post.
Well said, but I have to say that touring isn't a perceived necessity. From most other locales in the U.S., a musician doesn't have an opportunity to play 5 nights a week - you know, to make a living - in his hometown. You don't have to pursue celebrity to see the need to be on the road, just for basic financial reasons. New Orleans is that special place that can support a Rebirth Brass Band or a Kermit Ruffins five nights a week, and the musician can make a comfortable $75-100K a year. So, it's the transplants that moved to New Orleans that have a perceived necessity that the musicians in New Orleans should tour.
Kermit chooses not to tour because he doesn't have to and would rather spend time living his life here - the Saints are just a part of that life, and I think Josh Jackson was saying a version of the same thing. I took him to say that Kermit wants the benefits of success, but he wants to be in control of his life and celebrity - which he pretty much is - instead of controlled by it, the sort of celebrity you're talking about.
What interests me about Kermit's choices are that so few artists make them - other locals included. I wonder how many tour or play national and international gigs because they really want to, and how many are doing it because they perceive it as the thing they ought to be doing. Or, how many can't say no to another payday, even when they don't want to make the trip necessary to get it.
So should I buy the record? So many reviews of New Orleans recordings are favorable because the reviewer (and I) like the music, the artist, the scene in principle. But I don't get the CDs for free (anymore). I've bought a few too many records on the basis of such reviews, some by fine writers such as yourselves, but then they just don't measure up as recordings and don't merit repeated listenings. Sadly.
I'm not trying to be a smartass or dodge the question, but I don't know if you'll like it or not. I do, but I have no way of knowing if you like the same things I do. If you've read the site and share values with me, and the things I say about the album sound good to you, then probably. By now, there are so many ways you can get a taste of the music and decide for yourself that for me to try to sell you an album seems redundant at best.
One reason I don't do a lot of album criticism is that the last 30 years of mainstream reviews - in Rolling Stone and the like - have been consumer guide-oriented, which is always a losing task for the writer for the reasons I started with. Historically, arts criticism has been an occasion to consider and explore arts-oriented ideas - a task that I think suits me better, and certainly one that interests me more. In this case, I have much more to contribute to a conversation about the artist and the choices he makes than I do about the technical intricacies of traditional jazz.
One thing you can safely assume is that if I spend my time writing about something on this site, I think it merits attention. I promise not to waste my time and yours on music I'm uninterested in.
Alex, I appreciate your taking the time to reply. I'm not trying to be a smartass either. I used to write a lot about music, for a worldwide audience via the large news organization I still work for. It was a unique situation. I neither got paid any more than my salary (for covering other beats) nor got any particular career boost from it, which meant I only wrote about what I wanted to, and of course I got to meet some amazing people and learn about some wonderful music. Obviously since you don't know me (John does, though I'm not sure he remembers that I occasionally edited some of his stuff decades ago) I don't expect you to say, yes, you, Gary, should buy this; but... I still don't know if I would just play Kermit's record once out of interest piqued by articles like yours but never play it again, as with many of the New Orleans records I have bought because I read a piece of yours or John's. In my articles, I always tried to make it clear who might enjoy repeated listenings of the records connected to the interviews and stories I covered. Thanks again.
I really like the points you make here, Alex. Honestly, I usually get confused when I read descriptions of what music sounds like. (And the whole premise of critics rating music is undermined to me when I see debut or "breakthrough" albums get consistently rated higher than a 6th or 7th album of the same-old-shit by artists who are actually much more talented.) The point about redundancy is also completely on point -- I just pulled up this very album on Spotify. For free, and in less time than it took me to read this article. What would be the point of Alex trying to tell me if I'll like it?
In most cases, I'd much rather read interesting ideas about the music -- glad we have such a knowledgeable, thoughtful guy with "Kermit issues" he can work through like this to our benefit.
I also try where possible to include sound or video from the album in question to help address the "will I like it" question. Unfortunately, nothing was available at press time unless I dropped in a Spotify playlist. I'll likely do that next time.
Since I wrote this note, I received two links to Soundcloud files from the album and have embedded one to give readers a sense of what the album's about.
One last thought on this: consumer guide reviews put the critic in the position of selling the album, which isn't his/her job. My job as I see it is to write something interesting; any action that takes place after that is lagniappe.
I'm not sure why more musicians don't do what Kermit does...but I do know the permit process at City Hall isn't an easy one, it takes a lot for a musician to establish him/herself, and the avenues a musician can take are both more varied than they've ever been yet, ironically, more constrictive than ever due to the need to stuff everything into genres that seems to have grown over the decades, plus the fact that commercial radio has shut down so many ways that popular music used to get out to the public. The advent of the internet and the way that the music gets out there is something everyone, not just the major labels, is adjusting to. Perhaps the emphasis on just making it any way one can takes so much energy that trying to scratch out a way to live doesn't come as easily.
Speaking as someone who was very single-minded about pursuing a certain artistic avenue for a number of years, I can say that getting to where Kermit is takes a mix of success & self-knowledge that's tough to attain even in the best of circumstances. It also helps to have a large chunk of chutzpah & a certain amount of luck. Now that Kermit's gotten to where he is, we are likely the ones who need to examine priorities and what we seem to need from our artists. He's honing a craft and doing that well. That used to be enough for us - and, if you think about it, it still is: every time I pull out a favorite album and play it again, there's an appreciation and love for what it is (and for who I am when listening to it) every time I put it on.
Just some stuff to consider…
Two thoughts, one quick, one I hope will be quick (but have doubts): 1) "getting to where Kermit is takes a mix of success & self-knowledge that's tough to attain even in the best of circumstances" is spot-on. It's easy to say everybody can and should do it, but a lot of bands with residencies can't sustain them like Kermit can; and 2) "that used to be enough" - interesting thought, but I wonder if it's true. When I was a teenager and fan in my early 20s, I wanted the bands I liked to get bigger because part of being a fan meant rooting for them. As I kid I looked at charts and liked seeing bands and songs I like climb them partly because it was validating, but also because I wanted to see them do well. I doubt I was alone in that - y'all can confirm or deny - but if my experience was a common one, than honing a craft and doing it well wasn't enough at a certain point. Now as more mature listeners, it's easy to see how unfair it is to expect or even want bands to subject themselves to the things they have to deal with to get bigger (whatever that means), and to climb the charts. But at the point when music became central to how we defined ourselves and throughout the formative period of our music listening, we were not only invested in our favorite bands' music but their success. Now we pull out favorite albums and enjoy them for what they are, but did we always? Or did we listen to those albums for what they could be?
I'm not calling you out, by the way, just taking the question a little deeper into the relationship between fans and their favorite artists and their music. There's no question that I felt validated when records I liked were well reviewed, particularly when they were by punk, post-punk and American indie underground bands, but I was invested and felt like at some level our side was winning. If that experience was common, I think we do ourselves, artists and their music a disservice when we omit our levels of investment from the critical conversation.
To address your no. 2, Alex, it depends on what people get or are seeking from the music. I know people who are perfectly content to absorb whatever comes & not to think about it too deeply. I find that I can't do that as easily, but, then again, I'm also someone who, when I find music I really like, I want to discover more about it and who made it, so I start reading up on it, checking on live shows, looking for more … I forget, though, that many people don't see it that way. If they DO consult any reviews/criticism about music (or, in this modern world, check out an internet stream for free somehow), it's in the vein of "means to an end" - "Is it worth it to see them live? To buy this album?" Enjoyment is tied up in that sort of value. Or, it's music as background and not as any sort of investment: turn on the radio, soak in a scene for the price of a beer & conversation, & see what happens.
Really, it's why you can't please everybody all the time. True, lasting support is gonna come from longtime fans - which, in a way, Kermit has by being MORE than a musician. In his case, buying an album of his is buying into a persona he's built over the years, buying into what he represents. The force of that, more than the actual music, is what will draw people in. And, for far more people than any of us would think, that is enough.
It's a lot to think about. What's the true formula for success, the music, or who's making it?
"In his case, buying an album of his is buying into a persona he's built over the years, buying into what he represents." I agree, but that dimension outside the actual tracks sometimes means the recordings can be a little slight for those who don't bring the requisite associations to the experience. In this case, I'm pretty happy with the album, but there are others that would have made Gary's question even harder to answer.
Wow... The "comments" section of most blogs & especially youtube videos is almost always a quick downward spiral into bitchy squabble and loudmouthed opinion. The discussion that has followed Alex's review has been a thougtful, revealing and downright intelligent string of posts. Swenson's summing up of the context and meaning of Alex's post, almost brought me to tears!! He clearly has his head around the big picture of new orleans music, of cultural role of American working musicians, AND the role played by media professionals like Alex !
Did the review make me put an iCal memo in my phone to rush out to Louisiana Music Factory to buy the new Ruffins disc? That is not the point. Alex is doing his best to step back and frame an event, and give readers an insight into what a seasoned observer makes of it...
Me ? I'll pass by Vaughns some thursday this summer, sweat it out with the kids, and be glad I don't have to wait until I am out on tour to experience a taste of what makes this city great.
I can see where you're coming from on this Alex, and at the same time, I can see where Kermit's coming from. I, much like you, always enjoy seeing artists I like/support have success, grow, climb the charts, etc. It's akin to sports fandom, watching your team win.
From Kermit's point of view, or my perceived notion of it, he's content with what he's got. He's a big fish in a small pond, makes good money, and does what he wants on his terms. He can get a table at nice restaurant with the quickness, and can more than likely go to the grocery store and go about his day without any big hoopla. He consistently draws enough to his shows to cover his costs and make money. When people come to NOLA, they seek him out. He IS a tourist attraction, built on musical/entertainment reputation. So why tour? Why put himself through the grind of building markets, travel expenses, etc?
As a musician, I can look at where Kermit's put himself and see it as a successful culmination of career moves. He plays the music he wants to on his terms, no label/management pushing him to "experiment," no pressure, external or otherwise on how to top his last record. He just gets to do what he wants. That kind of the ideal situation.
"He IS a tourist attraction, built on musical/entertainment reputation." That's an awkward truth, isn't it? At the same time, it's an accomplishment few other bands have achieved. Rebirth at the Maple Leaf comes to mind, but I'm not sure that's on the same level, and the band isn't as ubiquitous.
It is an awkward truth, but brilliant in it's execution. I can't think of many artists who have pulled that off.
Interesting conversation, tho I think Kermit, as quoted here from Treme and quoted by me many times to my friends, said it best. It works for him. No size fits all. Thanks for the soundclips, Alex, that of course is very helpful. And I'm not asking you to help sell the album -- in fact, to the contrary, I'm asking you to help stop me from being swept away (I'm weak that way) by the power of your prose, the intriguing ideas you bring to bear, etc., and buying a record that is not really going to hold up on repeated listenings. Which in the end is all I care about, not being a collectibles completist or archivist. I listen to my music, which I pay for. I just thought I'd ask. It doesn't hurt to ask, right?
I knew where you were going and understand your anxiety. If you're going to pay your money, you'd like to have some confidence that you'll enjoy the album. My theory is that the great blow to the record industry came when it quietly stopped making single, then asked people to buy whole albums by Natalie Imbruglia and the like to get the few songs they wanted. That move discounted the way people wanted to consume music - singles outsold albums - and forced the casual buyer to spend more for a lot of music he/she didn't want, often music that was pretty pedestrian.
I seriously doubt many could pull off what Kermit has done. He is a pretty unique mix of talent and personality in the right place--New Orleans--that brings in a revolving audience to keep him self-employed at home. Rebirth is a good example, but their career still feels different. Although I'm not a musician, you constantly hear about how difficult life on the road is and, as much as I'd envy being a rock star, I could see it taking its toll. Kermit has carved out this enviable niche, yet few people have the chops and personality to do what he's done. He's made himself THE personality in a city full of personalities!
I do balk a bit at the comment that he's selling nostalgia for a time that never existed. He has a deep love and appreciation of music history and, though our culture is guilty of idiotic nostalgia worship for eras that never existed, this music did exist. Yet he also incorporates his love for modern music, which helps give him that quirky persona.
That being said, although I've enjoyed all his recordings, I'm on a budget right now and not rushing out to buy this one. It does seem that maybe he's stagnated a bit too much on this one, per track list and samples, to justify me rushing right out to buy it, but I'll never know without actually picking it up.
Which leads me to the issue of reviews. I don't like haughty critics who constantly attack and write reviews of albums that clearly are not marketed to them--why would Rolling Stone ever review a Justin Beiber album?! Yet locally I rarely if ever read a review that's anything but sunny, which has caused me over time to often skim over them. I think local writers want to support local musicians, and also need to stay on their good side for access, but when reviews say nothing, then why read them? I think you can be honest and be tactful without attacking the artist. There has to be some balance between arrogant critic and eternal cheerleader.
I agree about reviewing records that aren't for you. I won't review goth because I simply don't value the things that it's fans value. I couldn't write about it in good faith. Locally, I tend to review music that I think has something going on because I'd rather spend time pointing people in positive directions than ripping on somebody, particularly if the artist I'm ripping on isn't that established. I'm more likely to address an album I'm less fond of if it errs in a way that I think merits some conversation.
Writing about popular music is a game. Alex's critique of Kermit using a phrase popularized by Jello Biafra is wordplay and punsmanship more than it is criticism. There are in fact no real critics left if we are to talk about all this honestly because there's nothing left to criticize. Everything is available to everyone and all opinions are made equally valid by the existent of blogs. Anyone can have one. The smartest musicians realize this and give away their music on the internet. Writers are left to be, in a sense, exactly what the musicians are. Entertainers. We tell stories and play games. Make elaborate puns. Journalism still serves an important function, but I think the era of "Deans" and letter grades is about as relevant to contemporary music as scriviners are to writing mystery novels.
Sorry about the sloppy spelling. The tone of this conversation is really terrific and I'm having fun being part of it. I'm being honest about the gameplaying -- there was a time when critics were very important conduits to key information about what music sounded like and whether so-and-so's latest release was on a par with previous one (in pop that was rarely the case, by the way) but you don't have to go to the record store to hear for yourself any longer. I no longer bother in almost all cases writing about something I'm not really interested in. I don't feel the need to weigh in on something just because it's popular or the next big thing. I like writing about the musicians themselves -- what they're trying to achieve, whether they're reaching those goals, passing on their better stories to the readers. And I really like listening to music as well. "Reviews" give me an opportunity to concentrate on a task, try to disassemble the parts and see how they fit together, and comment on them. The experience Alex describes of rooting for an artist or genre to be better liked has not been something I've felt since my mid-20s. A lot of my favorite musicians are not well known or in some cases well liked but that has never dissuaded me from listening to them. And of course it's painful to listen to some blowhard pontificate about what something you really have been moved by is worthless or pointless. I was at a party recently when I was forced to listen to some hack with a camera complain about how boring he thought the Wayne Shorter set at Jazzfest was. Music choices can also be very personal. I used to think that good music was good music and converting listeners was a matter of explaining what was good about a particular musician or group. Listening to music and friendship were somehow intertwined in my thinking. Ironically it was several experiences with Alex himself that finally disabused me of this thinking. In the end you like what you like, for your own reasons. The best I can do is try and keep an open mind. As for Kermit's album as Alex points out I think it's quite good, especially if you like Kermit or traditional jazz. I listened to it several times and it holds up very well.
I understand your observation about getting past the point of having a rooting interest. I haven't lost it entirely, but I it diminished around that time for me as well - probably also around the time that music plays less of a role in how we define ourselves. I suspect that writing also plays a part in that change as we write about a lot of music, some of which we have stronger feelings for about than others. There's a time when I had a desert island discs list and could have told you what I've thought was great in any given year. These days, my desert island disc list (such as it is) reflects who I was not who I am because I haven't thought about the question in a while, and I spend so much time thinking about new albums and bands as writing projects that any sort of ranking or big picture valuing is often beyond me.
I still root for bands...in a sense. Not to be 'superstars' but when a band you like succeeds, it's more likely they'll survive to make more music and that more 'good' or 'worthy' music will thus be supported in that niche. I don't think it's about my identity as much as desiring a culture where good music is supported, which is why I moved to New Orleans. But defining the 'good' or 'worthy' is the game. I am always careful, not only in writing but in conversation, of distinguishing preference from judgement. It irks me when someone says music I like 'sucks' because they don't like or get it, and I try to avoid doing the same. Like you said, musical is a very personal experience and when you attack a person's tastes you are attacking their core identity. I just found out that my best friend from Jr. High passed away which prompted me to queue up Survivor on my ipod. Yes, my music tastes have matured and expanded since adolescense, but that was my favorite band back then and he and I used to 'rock out' to that type of stuff and talk about it for hours. So you could easily dismiss that as sucky commerical 80s music, and it's no longer my preferred genre by far, yet there's still that primal connection which cannot be severed. That's the beauty of music.
And THAT being said, I do think criticism is revelevant in that context, if the reviewer knows their own limitations and has some tact. In fact, your summing up of this album, John, was excellent and stirred my curiosity. These are good conversations to have, as long as you take them for what they are.
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