by Harold McMillan

...at the Funky Butt

Yeah, that's right. Up all night, upstairs at The Funky Butt. It's packed, the music, the vibe and the folks are hot-indeed funky. The homefolks tell me it's even hotter and funkier at Donna's just down the street, on North Rampart. But tonight I'm doing the tourist thang and hanging with the handful of other conference attendees who have come to New Orleans (N'awlins?) for the Cutting Edge Music Business Conference. I look around the room and I see familiar faces from the morning's seminar sessions, band members from bad reggae showcase groups I'd rather forget, and the welcoming smiles of Austinites Tammy Gomez con la Palabra present in the audience. The rest of the room seems to be full of New Orleans homeys, jazz scene players and wannabes, and a support system -- an extended family of multi-colors, grandmas, teenagers, and macdaddys -- there to cheer on the home team at this final jazz showcase of the conference.

The crowd comfortably funky in a cloud of cigarette smoke, musk and whiskey, all entranced by the groove thang emanating from the stage. Two of them famous homeboys -- two Marsalis Brothers -- are taking the band and the listeners on a trip from the second-line, down to the blues cross-roads, straight ahead into the future of neo-voodoo-bop, up pocky-way, and right back down-home to Basin Street. And they do this (very musically) without ever leaving this upstairs Rampart Street jazz dive with the utterly N'awlins name of The Funky Butt. It ain't nothing but a groove thang in here. This is jazz music; these are jazz players; this is a jazz scene. But, then again, this is New Orleans.

While I was listening to Jason and Delfayo Marsalis and their superb young rhythm section and soloists, I could not help but think about the culture of New Orleans, the promise of this new music conference, and the music scene back home in Austin. I find that I do this kind of thing now when I travel. And I always pay particular attention when I see young folks involved and knowledgeable about their culture. It's not some superficial attempt at being a critic, really. It's more a sense of trying to figure out what's up with us here in Austin and comparing/contrasting here with other cities that I find more culturally stimulating and vibrant.

Just what are the differences? What makes the jazz players in New Orleans (even those who moved there) groove like they do? What does New Orleans do to get their kids ready to carry on the cultural traditions of the community? What makes the N'awlins homey-on-the-street more aware of the culture of New Orleans than is the Congress Avenue investment banker of Austin's cultural life? (Yes, that is a big assumption, but I'm playing the averages on this one and will bet I'm right.)

Even more troubling: what is it that makes the N'awlins homey-on-the-street even more aware of the economic benefit of supporting a city's arts and cultural life-even street culture -- than the Congress Avenue investment banker, some city council members, and many mainstream Austinites? I think it's because homeboy understands the street-level value of the local arts community, a vibrant downtown, and the contributions of all of the cultural communities of New Orleans. Now that is my assumption. Might we assume that of the Austin homeboy-on-the-street? I don't think so. I think Austin's homey is not really sure of just what cultural identity to place on us folk out here in the provinces.

And homey is certainly not getting any credible guidance from Austin's cultural gate keepers. Are we now (again) outlaw country rockers? Are we alterna-punk-metal-christian-grungers? (Tell us, Andy and Corky?) Are we the reigning kings and queens of white blues-rock? (Or is M.M. right when she mourns the death of that scene?) Are we just the adopted home of West Texas singer/songwriters? (Lubbock or leave it?)

And what happens when Austin's homey goes to New York, Atlanta, San Francisco, Seattle, New Orleans, Chicago: to him, is Austin still the Live Music Capital of the Universe?

What Austin does have is a cultural legacy of homegrown blues, jazz, country, and Tex-Mex/Tejano that ties it to its true cultural roots. That is some deep stuff, that is the real groove thang of this region. So, if this is really true (and I think it is), why is it that the cultural gatekeepers only go back to 1975 when they plot Austin's music history? Why is it that former Austin Chronicle Music Editor Rob Patterson choose to begin his history of the Austin music scene with the mid 1970's? Why not re-examine the importance of, the cultural legacy of folks such as Johnny Holmes and the Victory Grill, of Kenny Dorham and Gene Ramey's jazz roots, of the Ramos family's Tex-Mex fame, of the spiritual sons and daughters of Kenneth Threadgill?

Methinks the Live Music Capital of the World should pay more attention to our local cultural roots. That is really the stuff that defines who we are and where we come from. Getting all too excited about the passing musical fancies of college radio wannabes and alterna-punk garage bands misses the point. They grow up, they graduate, they leave. What real lasting impact will this week's Emo's line-up have on the long-term cultural identity of Austin and Central Texas? Now, I am not totally dissin' the Emo's scene, nor inviting sentimental nostalgia. I use it as an example to illustrate my bias. That youthful scene just might have the key ingredients necessary to confirm its significance in Austin's cultural future. But how do we define our roots right now, in 1996? More importantly, my point is I don't think we are doing enough to actively cultivate the kind of mature regional identity capable of positively setting us apart from most other youth-driven music markets. Seattle and Athens seem to be doing a much better job at that already.

It should not be enough to boast that we have a lot of stages -- more than Seattle, even -- and the world's biggest music conference (in South by Southwest). After all, SXSW takes little advantage, really, of its unique potential to promote the diverse musical cultures that call Austin and Central Texas home. Its good for today's commerce, but what does SXSW really do to send its conferees away with an appreciation of the traditions, the cultural roots of Austin's music scene? What does it do to offer up Austin's own music scene as an example of how local music bidness culture impacts the economy, quality of life, the media, race relations, politics, interpretations of history, artistic influences, tourism? If we just look at the big picture, it's all in there. And, without the big picture we miss our opportunity, really, to substantiate our uniqueness.

How does the Music Capital of the World dignify this self-generated claim? Where does SXSW place itself in the narrative history of "the sound of Austin?" How could the Council, the Chamber and other bidness-boosters (such as The Downtown Alliance), the mainstream media, and the Convention and Visitors Bureau not cash in on the economic benefit of painting a full and colorful picture of Austin's musical past and present? Wouldn't we have more credibility as a significant cultural/music center if more of us were aware of musical roots that pre-date the life span of the current generation? Country music did not arrive here with Willie. Austin was blue long before the blues crossed I35 into West Austin. Spanish language dance music did not just happen with the current interest in salsa. Gene Ramey was hanging with Bird long before the opening of Piggy's. How can we hope to legitimately define Austin's unique musical culture without looking further back than the average age of a college sophomore.

Now, I know that some of that old stuff is not very flattering to our reputation as the hippest town in Texas, but those old truths have everything to do with the cultural identity of this region today. And, yes, it very much impacts the development, evolution, performance practices, tone, and marketing of what we now call Austin music.

Back to New Orleans. New Orleans is PHATT with history, music, culture, commerce. The people of New Orleans sing a N'awlins song in their speech, swing a N'awlins groove in their walk. The cooks in New Orleans put all kinds of secret ingredients in their individual pots of gumbo, but they are not trying to make a rue that tastes like Tulsa. Their aim, secret ingredients and all, is to make a pot of steaming voodoo that makes the quintessential N'awlins taste statement. I won't even try to talk about their concept of snap beans.

My point (is it not obvious by now?) is that the people of New Orleans -- complete with their Congo Square cultural past and corrupt political present -- celebrate their musical roots, know their history, teach their young about "What it means to miss New Orleans." (They also make a funky buttload of money selling that cultural identity to millions of tourists each year.) Yes, there is a grunge scene in the Crescent City, but that scene is certainly not what defines the soul, the flavor, the commerce nor the feel of their regional culture. I think our challenge here in River City is to dig deeper and get to know what ingredients add spice to the cultural flavor of Austin.

Earlier in this piece I mentioned the Cutting Edge Music Conference. I went to New Orleans because I was intrigued by the promo material for the conference. As it was described in print, the Cutting Edge Conference had a number of things that tweaked my interest: most notably they actually mention issues of culture and history as they relate to the music industry; and there was a tract of the discussion sessions aimed at addressing roots music, blues and jazz. Throughout the descriptions the word "community" was used in ways that matched my sensibilities. So, I figured the conference was worth the trip. New Orleans is pretty much always worth the trip.

For those of you who are not familiar with music business conferences, like SXSW or CMJ, most of what goes on is related to getting and keeping that elusive record deal or good gig. The seminar sessions almost always are directed only to the commercial aspects of the music industry. Very little, if anything, is said about the connection of art and culture. Very little is said that relates to us folks who are in the industry, but have no interest in being rock and roll stars, managers or booking agents. I went to New Orleans hoping that Cutting Edge would be different. And it was.

I left New Orleans hoping that they keep trying to get it right. Why? Because what they are trying to do is really needed. There needs to be an alternative to the commercial excess of confabs like SXSW. Or, and perhaps this is really what I'd like to see happen, SXSW would really benefit from adding more programming that addresses issues of culture, the non-profit arts scene, local community involvement, and diversity among its panels and seminars. SXSW is uniquely qualified to do much to help showcase our local music culture. As well, they could do much to help attendees return to their hometowns with an appreciation of how communities, such as Austin, can work together to promote their own cultural identities.