If you haven’t heard—next weekend is Halloween. It’s where we have no clue—not the slightest—in what the hell we’re celebrating.
Originally a Gaelic harvest festival to commemorate the ‘summer’s end’ (known as Samhain)… Ah, what does it matter? The full-frontal truth is, it’s the day we savor our wild side, a sort of dark sinister worship. That’s right, worship. If there’s one thing I’m convinced we can all—ALL—relate with, it’s worship—regardless of religious or spiritual adoration or disdain. Think ritual, devotion, and adoration—as applicable to the Lord Jesus as it is to SYTYCD and the grand cathedral of sports. Why—just last week I heard a sports rendition of Psalm 23 with Tim Tebow as the Lord.
So—while most of the country will be getting warmed up for the holiday fight season, i.e. elbow jockeying in Wal-Mart and Target aisles (with the occasional Southern mother pulling a homemade brand—I’m talking to you Katie) for the most up to date consumer pimping of today’s most marketable characters—others of us will be worshiping another god besides consumerism: music.
KISS headlines the festival on Halloween night
Come one—come all, to none other than the Voodoo Experience in New Orleans, LA (NOLA). As my friend Big Jon already so eloquently uttered: “I love New Orleans. Period. I love the people, the place, the culture, the history, the triumph and the tragedy.” There it is lads and ladies. The essence here lies in the soul—our own and that of NOLA. New Orleans is perhaps (all hyperbole aside) one of the most significant cities in all of America. Set aside the vast culture that it inhabits and embodies—consider the immigrants shipping into port, sharing and conjoining their musical traditions, their culture and history, their lives. If you stop, close your eyes, and listen close enough—you can almost hear the groaning of history herself, resonating in the confabbing chatter of eateries and music lounges.
Dan Dyer performs Saturday at 2pm on the WWOZ stage for the Voodoo Experience
Me—personally, I’m looking for that holy-ghost performance—what Voodoo refers to as “Experience”. I was recently having a confab with Dan Dyer about this dynamic, i.e. his connection with the city and people of New Orleans. It’s the sweet spot. It’s that moment that doesn’t just come along at any ole time. It’s where the artist and the audience are so connected, emotionally, that it’s as though the two are one. It’s intimate and meaningful—the kind of moment you relive whenever the memory beckons or the social scene allows. With each musical bar—each transition from chorus to bridge—the audience swaying cathartically to the rhythmic funks of their life ills and existential funks—traveling the portals of life delirium in their musical DeLorean (minus Marty McFly and Doc Brown), that worship takes place.
Sure, lots of people play the part (they’re the ones wearing the band’s shirt of the band they’re going to see—which, by the way is a total hipster wannabe poser mistake), but this “Experience” is about the worship—others’ and my own. Listen—this is about New Orleans, and New Orleans is about music. So, bring on Shooter Jennings (son of the great Waylon Jennings), Dan Dyer, Lenny, Eminem, Wolfmother, George Clinton, and most of all The Black Keys. Hallelujah!
Raymond is the cultural critic for the South Side Sanctuary, traveling to the outer-limits of the social realm to discover to unique facets of the human existence. He travels to New Orleans for this year's VooDoo Experience in a few short days. Strike up a friendship if you like: ray [at] southsidesanctuary [dot] com
Worship the Music – The Voodoo Experience 10/30-11/1
If you haven’t heard—next weekend is Halloween. It’s where we have no clue—not the slightest—in what the hell we’re celebrating.
Originally a Gaelic harvest festival to commemorate the ‘summer’s end’ (known as Samhain)… Ah, what does it matter? The full-frontal truth is, it’s the day we savor our wild side, a sort of dark sinister worship. That’s right, worship. If there’s one thing I’m convinced we can all—ALL—relate with, it’s worship—regardless of religious or spiritual adoration or disdain. Think ritual, devotion, and adoration—as applicable to the Lord Jesus as it is to SYTYCD and the grand cathedral of sports. Why—just last week I heard a sports rendition of Psalm 23 with Tim Tebow as the Lord.
So—while most of the country will be getting warmed up for the holiday fight season, i.e. elbow jockeying in Wal-Mart and Target aisles (with the occasional Southern mother pulling a homemade brand—I’m talking to you Katie) for the most up to date consumer pimping of today’s most marketable characters—others of us will be worshiping another god besides consumerism: music.
KISS headlines the festival on Halloween night
Come one—come all, to none other than the Voodoo Experience in New Orleans, LA (NOLA). As my friend Big Jon already so eloquently uttered: “I love New Orleans. Period. I love the people, the place, the culture, the history, the triumph and the tragedy.” There it is lads and ladies. The essence here lies in the soul—our own and that of NOLA. New Orleans is perhaps (all hyperbole aside) one of the most significant cities in all of America. Set aside the vast culture that it inhabits and embodies—consider the immigrants shipping into port, sharing and conjoining their musical traditions, their culture and history, their lives. If you stop, close your eyes, and listen close enough—you can almost hear the groaning of history herself, resonating in the confabbing chatter of eateries and music lounges.
Dan Dyer performs Saturday at 2pm on the WWOZ stage for the Voodoo Experience
Me—personally, I’m looking for that holy-ghost performance—what Voodoo refers to as “Experience”. I was recently having a confab with Dan Dyer about this dynamic, i.e. his connection with the city and people of New Orleans. It’s the sweet spot. It’s that moment that doesn’t just come along at any ole time. It’s where the artist and the audience are so connected, emotionally, that it’s as though the two are one. It’s intimate and meaningful—the kind of moment you relive whenever the memory beckons or the social scene allows. With each musical bar—each transition from chorus to bridge—the audience swaying cathartically to the rhythmic funks of their life ills and existential funks—traveling the portals of life delirium in their musical DeLorean (minus Marty McFly and Doc Brown), that worship takes place.
Sure, lots of people play the part (they’re the ones wearing the band’s shirt of the band they’re going to see—which, by the way is a total hipster wannabe poser mistake), but this “Experience” is about the worship—others’ and my own. Listen—this is about New Orleans, and New Orleans is about music. So, bring on Shooter Jennings (son of the great Waylon Jennings), Dan Dyer, Lenny, Eminem, Wolfmother, George Clinton, and most of all The Black Keys. Hallelujah!
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The Raymond
Raymond is the cultural critic for the South Side Sanctuary, traveling to the outer-limits of the social realm to discover to unique facets of the human existence. He travels to New Orleans for this year's VooDoo Experience in a few short days. Strike up a friendship if you like: ray [at] southsidesanctuary [dot] com