When someone tags you a scumbag for criticizing a local institution and then instructs you to, in less-perfumed blogspeak, consume excrement and expire it tends to give a guy pause. For example, is the mere disapproval of so many Jazz Fest selections enough to make me a bag filled with scum, or does it take stating that opinion? I would like to think that, at the very least, I am a contemplative scumbag, capable of introspection. In that vein, Im accompanying my complaints with something more constructive: an ongoing collection of songs from lesser-known New Orleans artists who each deserve their own moment on the main stage. And Im dedicating this new series to Bob, the pseudo-anonymous, single-named mudslinger who convinced me that brevity and bravado are not mutually exclusive concepts.
Trebuchet, Chef Menteur, The Answers In Forgetting
Not exactly a festival band outside of Noizefest, perhaps but a prime example of the kind of ripe fruit to be found in the citys fringiest musical groves. A constant, steely guitar strum à la Pink Floyds Wish You Were Here gives way to rippling electronic echoes that expand exponentially, folding back on themselves, churning, swirling into starburst drums and slowly fading away into manmade machine noise.