The Fest Issue
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I apologize again for breaking my weekly rule. I’ve been crazy busy the last week but plan to continue the regular schedule soon. I also realize I haven’t been focusing as much on New Orleans as I have in the past. My musical interests have brought me away from NOLA for the time being, but I will be returning to my regularly scheduled programming soon.
Fest 19: The Fest that was, then wasn’t, then was again
After a great deal of whining and moaning about not being able to go to Fest 19, the universe decided to shut me up by gifting me the wonderful NOLA ska band Joystick! During my shift at a local record store, Kyle the drummer for Joystick! showed up for some last-minute fest supplies (papers, tote bag, etc.). We got to talking about Fest and he invited me to join the crew as a photographer.
What started as a plan to shoot only Joystick! and go back home turned into a weekend adventure seeing friends old and new. I still haven’t gone home as of writing this (My truck broke down and I’m trapped in a random town in Florida). Here are some of my favorite sets I caught this weekend:
Joystick! and Skanking in the Rain
Soundcheck is at 4:20 p.m. (nice) and half of Joystick! is still missing. I’m waiting by the stage awkwardly out of place. Around me are people I previously only admired from afar through the internet like JER of Skatune Network, Mike Sosinski of Kill Lincoln and all these Bad Time Records folks. When the rest of the band rolls up at around 4:30 for soundcheck, clouds start rolling in from the North.
The show is at the Heartwood, an outdoor venue with only Ska bands performing that night. About 10 mins before they go on at 5:40, a downpour causes everyone to run for cover. Bands scramble to grab gear out of the rain. In classic Florida fashion, the rain stops almost as fast as it started, just in time for Joystick! to take the stage.
The grass lawn quickly turned to mud as people came out of the shelter to skank and dance to Joystick! I’m taking photos, anxiously not trying to get in the way of anyone or ruin anybody’s fun. Then the drum and horns for “Parallelograms” ring out like an invitation. Lead singer Duck sings the lyrics so fast with tons of raw energy. People are ripping up the muddy turf as Duck sings out the lyric “dancing in the rain!”
“Parallelograms” is about a fictional character named Julie, an ordinary girl from New Orleans with fun-loving interests like sipping coffee, reading books, and even dancing in the rain. But Julie also loved her cocaine and oxy. At the end of the song, she overdoses on the sidewalk in a New Orleans neighborhood called Treme. It’s named “Parallelogram” because it parallels Duck’s struggle with drugs.
For anyone who has seen the effects of addiction on people they love, it’s a hurtful song while also simultaneously joyful. Duck is still here, unlike the fictional Julie. He and Joystick get to celebrate with punk kids muddying up their converse. That’s what Fest is all about. That’s what Ska is about, dancing in the rain.
Ska.. but not? - Hans Gruber and the Die Hards
Saturday morning on the second day of Fest, I remember asking Duck who he was planning to see that day. He said Hans Gruber and the Die Hards and I jokingly said “Oh, the other Ska band.” Duck being the kind person he is said he wants to support other Ska bands but Hans Gruber isn’t just another Ska band.
I originally planned to see Orgimai Angel’s whole set but decided to cut it short to see what Duck meant for myself. I’m glad I did. The show took place in the upstairs of Fox Lounge, a long music hall. When I got there, the crowd filled the room from the stage down to the hall's front entrance, some 40 feet at least.
I made my way up to the front and got to witness the madness. The guitarist was dressed as a hot dog. One of the front people had on only boxer briefs and looked like William Murderface from Metalocalypse. The other front person wielded a saxophone while wearing a red bathrobe with something tucked into her pants to make her butt look big.
It was pretty easy to see what Duck meant. They used some elements of Ska (like horns, occasional guitar chops, offbeat rhythms and keys), but their music was harsh and shameless. From the anthemic “It Just Doesn’t Matter” to the combative “This Flat Earth” taking on NASA, Hans Gruber captures a critical element of third wave Ska that’s sometimes missing from other modern Ska bands, dumb fun.
Hans Gruber is fun, nihilistically fun. Nothing matters, so why not stop caring what others think of you and have a good time. That’s what their live shows encourage. They threw out sock puppets for the audience in the middle of their set before performing their PSA “Brontosaurs Do Not Exist.” It was probably the most fun I had all weekend.
Taking Heads, Talking Meds
Somebody pulled the fire alarm right before Taking Meds took the stage to perform their Talking Heads cover set. A monotone voice asking people to evacuate the building could barely be heard under the blaring music and chatter. Bright lights flashed white from the ceiling, and no one left. We were prepared to burn down the house.
Taking Meds is an upstate New York punk band that has earned attention from the DIY scene. Not just for their music but also for the lead signer Skylar Sarkis’ dead-pan humor in music videos, show banter, and interviews. The band has been told time and time again that their name is way too close to Talking Heads.
Skylar told me in an interview that they didn’t think about the 3-letter difference between the names until well after they established themselves. Since then, anyone wearing Taking Meds merch has probably been told, “I thought that was a Talking Heads shirt.” The band always joked about doing a cover set but I don’t think anyone actually expected the day to come.
Adorned in an oversized grey suit, Skylar pulled off a shockingly good David Byrne impression. He would even mimic vocal effects from the originals. Hearing Skylar say “water” repeatedly while also adding those ad-libs was a bit painful but also so funny to watch. By the time they got to “Burning Down the House” the firetrucks were outside with sirens ready to put out the fire.
Zeta times Zeta is still Zeta
Their first year at Fest, Zeta performed at the small pub stage at Loosey’s. The following year, the band volunteered at Fest. The year after that, they moved to the club-sized stage at The Willow and this year, they performed on their largest stage yet at the outdoor venue Heartwood.
Every year there seems to be more and more converts to the Venezuelan avant experimental punk band. They use Latin rhythms that entrance the listener and keep your attention fixed on 8+ people on stage. Drums of all shapes and sizes litter the stage. There are keys and synths, and lead singer Juanchi’s vocals are haunting. There’s even a dancing dragon on stage. If you ever get the opportunity to see this band, take it.
Ceschi preaches to the choir
Sunday morning in the cool basement of the Hippodrome Theatre, people lean on marble pillars as they wait for Ceschi to perform. His stage is only an amp, a guitar and a chair resting his laptop.
There is no music playing, just the hush murmur as people make their way inside. A normal speaking voice breaks the quiet, saying “I feel like I just walked into a church.” It’s by far the most intimate venue at Fest, where most stages have fans frothing at mouth shouting the lyrics to their favorite bands. This room feels more like a funeral home.
Ceschi walked out unceremoniously, grabbed his guitar and began playing a new track, “2020 BC.”
The hush acoustics bounce off marble tiles and catacomb-like pillars as Ceschi sings out “We were hiding our faces long before pandemics arrived,” and “We’ve been glorifying wealth and greed and sociopathy / It is packaged and sold to us as the American dream.”
We are bobbing our heads along as if it was an imaginary drum we all could hear. As the epic 8-min track comes to a close, the crowd cheers and claps. Ceschi then puts away his guitar in favor of a few traditional hip-hop tracks showing off how fast he can rap. He moves around the basement venue engaging everyone from the small crowd of 30 or so people. With members of Zeta, he sings a folk song in Spanish.
He commands the crowd like a preacher in a pulpit singing, the subjects of his songs demanding that much seriousness. At the end of his set, he prompts the audience telling them to sing a sample for him. “Oh my God,” is all we have to sing and when he tests it, almost everyone jumped on board to sing. We sounded like a rag-tag choir.
On the track, Ceschi reflects on going to prison and the shortness of life. As we got to chorus, the basement went dark with the only light coming from an open door at the back of the venue. We were faceless silhouettes altogether singing out “Oh My God” in the darkness.
At the end of the show, I learned the whole downtown lost power. Other bands had to end their entire sets because of it. Thankfully, Ceschi and his choir could continue singing from the abyss.
Ceschi will be releasing a new album (pay what you want) tomorrow 11/5 for all platforms.
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