An editorial

After Ashey Morris’s death, one of the New Orleans bloggers (I forget which one) suggested that every NOLA blogger post something with the word “fuck” during the month following Ashley’s death. I missed the deadline by a day or two, but something I saw today at Jazz Fest gives me the feeling that I’m about to channel the Big Guy. So here goes.

This is a message to the boorish bleacher-dwellers in the Blues Tent during John Mooney’s performance today—the ones who couldn’t shut the fuck up for so much as five seconds while a living breathing treasure and bandmates were playing their asses off on stage. It’s the Jazz Fest, not the fucking Yack Fest. While you’re sitting there not paying attention to the music, there are blues lovers standing outside the tent in the sun, digging and dancing to the music. Seeing as how you went to all the trouble to snag a nice seat inside the tent for John Mooney’s set, kindly take the next step, shut the fuck up, and listen to the goddamned music. If you can’t manage that, take it outside, and let someone who wants to listen to the music have the bench space.

But you yacking turds, stinky as you are, aren’t the worst bleacher occupants I saw today. No, the worst of the worst, the one who looks up to pond scum, is the classless, clueless asswipe with the sideburns and yellow shirt who couldn’t bother himself to applaud even once during Mooney’s entire set—not even after the finale. Message to Mr. Classless Clueless: There is a contract between musician and audience. The musician’s job is to put some heart and soul into the performance. Your end of the bargain is to show some appreciation. If you don’t dig the music, then shuffle your indifferent ass to one of the 10 other venues at Jazz Fest. If, on the other hand, you dig the music enough to hang around, then your obligation at the end of a song—and especially at the end of the performance—is to applaud. Or cheer, or whistle, or make some other audible gesture of appreciation.

Do you know what “polite applause” is? It’s what people do when the don’t like the music but don’t want to insult the musician. When you couldn’t even manage polite applause today, you insulted the band. If you dislike the music so much that you can’t even manage polite applause, then what in the  everlovin’ fuck are you doing taking up valuable space in the Blues Tent? Get your apathetic ass out of there and make some room for someone who appreciates the music.

My name is Ray Ward, and I feel sure that Ashley would have approved this message.

Comments

[Marco]

I wasn't there, but if I were, I probably would have told the yackers to shut the fuck up too!

[liprap]

Daaaaaaamn right!

[Aaron]

Well done!

If you went Sunday (I know you had issues with one of the Sundays, I can't remember if it was first or second weekend), the Derek Trucks Band in the Blues Tent was AMAZING. I caught half his set before heading over to the Nevilles. I feel you would definitely approve, I think Derek is channeling Stevie Ray Vaughan.

[Ray Ward]

Aaron: That's exactly what I would have expected from Derek Trucks. I discovered him on Eric Clapton's "Crossroads" CD, and was most impressed. Besides being an excellent musician, he seems to be an all-round good guy. And he's married to Susan Tedeschi, which reflects well of him on a couple of levels. (Their kids are going to be some talented bluesfolk.)