Katrina
Anyone here from New Orleans? Louisiana? I have weird feelings about New Orleans. Sadnesses. I miss it and would like to go back there but there’s a strong chance I never will. Last time I was there, the sadness almost crushed me.
The first time I went to New Orleans, it felt a little bit like going home. I was surprised by how many of the people I met were keenly aware of the history between Louisiana and my home province of Nova Scotia. There are/were French-speaking people in my family, so I’ve always felt a little bit Acadian. In New Orleans, I felt embraced as an honorary Cajun.
I was living in Paris when Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005. I read about it every day in the International Herald Tribune. The stories and images really affected me and I ended up writing a song about it. That song is on Dirtbike 3.
When I was asked to play a benefit concert in New Orleans shortly after the hurricane, I jumped at the chance. I wanted to help out in any way I could. The show was at the House Of Blues. It was a weird bill. It was me, Daniel Lanois and funk legend Eddie Bo (who was from New Orleans). I still can’t believe I played a show with Eddie Bo. One of my most-wanted records is one of his 45s. This song by Eddie is a sure shot hip hop classic:
I can’t remember if it was the day of the concert or the day after, but arrangements were made for me to visit the worst-affected areas. I wish I could remember the name of the man who served as my guide because he was a great person. I probably have it in a journal somewhere. He drove me all around and explained things and told stories. I’ll never-ever forget some of the things I saw. A stretch limousine on top of a house. Clean slabs of concrete where houses once stood - washed away completely. Coded markings in spray paint on houses indicating that there were dead found inside. And the end of the day, my guide said he had one last thing to show me. We drove into the middle of a residential area and I saw the most surreal sight I’ve ever seen: a giant ship - a container barge - right in the middle the neighborhood. My guide explained that it was this ship that broke through the nearby levee, not the storm surge. We saw a news crew filming. He stopped the truck, got out and ran over to the reporter. I could see him gesturing and speaking angrily. When he got back in the vehicle, he said, “I don’t know why the news won’t talk about the damn barge.” He seemed to believe that it hadn’t been moved and was left unsecured on purpose - knowing it would destroy anything in its path. I don’t think I ever did see that barge in the news.
Let me tell you about the nicest people I’ve ever known: Paul and Helen. Together, they were goodness and positivity personified. In Halifax, back in the mid-90s to early 2000s, they had a calypso band called Piggy. They had songs about supporting local businesses and communities, being a good person, activism and acceptance.
As Paul was doing his activist work and playing the funnest shows ever with Piggy, he was studying medicine at Dalhousie University. He graduated the same day my sister graduated from dental school. I was there for the ceremony and when his name was called to accept his diploma, the room erupted in cheers. Everyone who ever met Paul loved him. He was always smiling. He knew how to make people feel good and valued. I don’t know how else to say it: he was a good, good, good person and his spirit rubbed off on anyone who came within 100 feet of him.
Shorty after graduating, Paul and Helen moved to New Orleans. Everyone who knew them was sad to see them go. They meant so much and did so much for the community in the north end of Halifax. But we felt good knowing that they were going to shine their light on some other lucky people. Paul opened a free clinic in the Treme neighborhood of New Orleans and helped everyone who came in, whether they had money or not. And Helen made the neighborhood more beautiful with her art and told people’s stories with her films.
One night in early January of 2007, an intruder broke into Paul and Helen’s house. Helen was murdered and Paul was shot several times while shielding his baby boy’s body with his own. It’s hard for me to get into detail about the story, but you can read about it in the articles linked here and here and here.
Paul doesn’t live in New Orleans anymore. I’ve been there a few times since Helen was killed. She and Paul are all I can think about when I’m there. I can’t shake it. It feels like being smothered by darkness and there’s no way to escape it. Last time I was there, the plan was to hang out for three or four days. I left after less than 24 hours. There’s a lot about the city that I miss. The music history in New Orleans is so important. It’s a beautiful place. But for me, it’s haunted. Like I said, I doubt I’ll ever go back.
A few things before I bounce.
We reached a thousand subscribers! Su666, you put us over the top. Thanks so much. I’m working on a celebratory thing now. I’ll have that to share with you on the next post. I’m also thinking about opening up a few new channels here. I might start a new section of essays on hip hop (history, philosophy, reviews, etc.). And the plan from the beginning was to start up a paid service once we reached 1000. So I’m just thinking of everything I can offer you if that happens. Further word on that soon.
While we’re on the subject of Substack, I want to - once again - recommend Controller 7’s Substack, Custom Wallees. As you probably know, Controller 7 and I made an album together called Billy. He’s one of my all-time favorite artists. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I love everything he’s ever done. I can’t say that about too many other musicians. In fact, off the top of my head, no one else comes to mind. He’s special. I’m lucky enough to have heard a few of his new projects that are coming soon and they’re incredible. I’m excited for you to hear.
And finally: there’s an annual event in Toronto called Live Convention. It’s a bit hard to explain, but it’s kinda the nerdiest-imaginable hip hop event. The focus is on DJs and beat-makers and - most importantly - the art of digging. They bill it as ‘a festival for record heads’. It takes place over the course of three days. Guests are invited from around the world to do DJ sets or speaking engagements. In past years, guests have included Lord Finesse, Jazzy Jay, Pete Rock, Buckwild, DJ Spinna, Mr. Thing and Rashad Smith, to name a few. The festival culminates with a big record sale on the last day. Hands down, it’s the greatest record sale in the world. It’s far from the biggest but it’s the best. You won’t find Led Zeppelin rarities but you’ll find that funk holy grail or the sample that so-and-so used for that classic hip hop song from 1992. I’m not a big-time record-seller, but I sell at the Convention every year. It’s a common sight to see hip hop legends digging in the crates and I’m hearing rumors of some exciting names who might be in the mix this year. If you’re a record nerd and/or you’re interested in the engine that makes the whole machine go, you should think about making the trip to Toronto. This year’s event runs from September 14th to 17th. If you want to stay on top of things, follow Live Convention on Instagram. Hope to see you there.
Alright, y’all. Let’s keep this thing growing! The start of a new era is about to begin.