This just in – the Stomp’s Alison Fensterstock with the latest on the future of Ernie K-Doe’s Mother-in-Law Lounge.
Just about a week after deciding that she would close the landmark tavern she took over after her mother’s death last year, Betty Fox has announced that she will try to keep the Mother-In-Law Lounge open after all. The outpouring of support that came after her announcement on June 20 prompted a change of heart, she said.
On March 25, 2000, four young New Orleans acts played with K-Doe at the Mother-in-Law Lounge as a tribute to one of their most important mentors. K-Doe loved to teach his children and they loved to learn from their favorite teacher. The bands that night were The Rubber Maids, Egg Yolk Jubilee, The McGillicuddys, Fireball Rockett and Mr. Quintron. (the blurry face underneath Martin Luther King is the Stomp's D Lefty Parker) Photo by Scott Saltzmann
When I think about the Mother-In-Law lounge, I always picture K-Doe singing this song in his club: “Come on Home.”
I am sorry to say we recently learned of the passing of Floyd Dakil. Our condolences to Floyd’s family and friends.
Although we had not announced it yet- Floyd was scheduled to appear at the next Ponderosa Stomp. We would like to pay tribute the only way we know how- with one of his greatest tracks “Dance, Franny, Dance.”
From his Stomp bio:
Texas rocker Floyd Dakil started out as an adolescent wild man, forming his Floyd Dakil Combo with five other high school sophomores in 1963. In 1964, the combo recorded their first and best-known single for the Jetstar label, the regional hit “Dance, Franny, Dance,” live in front of a crowd at the Pit Club, where they were the house band. They were clean-cut teens in sharp suits who played savage, crazy and loose dance music that still stands out today as one of the hottest sounds to come out of the happening Dallas-Fort Worth ‘60s garage scene. In 1969 Dakil joined Louis Prima’s band as a guitarist and stayed for several years.
Incredible video from our friends at the Oxford American: Billy Lee Riley honored by his friends and comrades at the Silver Moon club in Newport, Arkansas, on August 30th, 2009. In attendance a roster of Stomp veterans – Sonny Burgess and the Pacers, W.S. Holland (from Johnny Cash’s and Carl Perkins’ bands), Carl Mann (“Mona Lisa and “Pretend”), Ace Cannon (“Tuff”), Dale Hawkins (“Suzie-Q”), and Travis Wammack (“Scratchy”) among others.
Tom Waits once described Alex Chilton as “the Thelonius Monk of the rhythm guitar.” He’s damn right. I heard it all for the first time live in 1986 at the 688 Club in Atlanta, Georgia. I was 22 years old; a kid in a band called Green On Red and we were playing on a bill with him that night. We were positively bourgeois; freshly signed to Polygram Records with an extra van and a rag-tag road crew. We were living high on the hog, man (or we thought so, anyway). Alex Chilton pulled up the gravel drive to the back of the joint in an old Buick Skylark spitting plumes of blue smoke. He took off the shirt he was wearing, shoving it into the back of his Fender Super Reverb amp, and pulled out the one he wore for gigs. He donned a harmonica rack and tuned up his guitar to the harp, all the while looking at his bass player and drummer (Rene Coman and Doug Garrison). He stepped up to the mike and clicked his heels four times. That was it. I don’t know who my fragile busted up little psyche’s influences were at the time; Neil Young, Joe Strummer, David Bowie, Tom Verlaine? They all went out the window at that moment; floated up into the ether and stayed put. Alex has remained. I have forgotten many heroes along the way. Put on “Bangkok” and you’ll begin to understand why this man, this rock and roll song and dance man, can’t be tossed aside. Ever.
Last night, the primal sounds of fife and drum music were echoing at the Turner Family Picnic, an annual North Mississippi Hill Country tradition, and Bo-Keys leader Scott Bomar, Ponderosa Stomp graphics designer Kerri Mahoney and I were there to listen.
Since the death of Rising Star Fife and Drum Band founder — and Turner family patriarch — Otha Turner, his granddaughter Sharde Thomas (pictured above and below) has led the group. Last night was no different, as, under a hazy half-moon, Thomas blew her cane fife and, followed by a trio of drummers, traversed the packed dirt ground that was once home to her granddaddy’s farm. Her mother and aunts fried catfish and sold cold beer and hot sandwiches. Curious city slickers took photos, drank too much, and kicked up dust. When Thomas tired, friends like Kenny Brown, Junior Burnside and R.L. Boyce were quick to pick up the slack, performing Hill Country anthems like “Jumper On the Line” from a plywood stage.
Like most traditions, the picnic has changed over the last 50-or so years, even as it has stayed the same. Otha and his daughter, Bernice Turner, who helped with the band, died on the same day in 2003. The grandkids are growing up — a few weeks ago, Thomas started her sophomore year in college. The goat meat sandwiches had sold out by the time we arrived, and this year, for the first time, the family charged a $2 admission to the picnic.
Yet once we were ensconced with cold beers in one hand and catfish and Wonder bread sandwiches in the other, the swirling, Africa-meets-the-blues music pulling us into the mass of dancers, it was as if we were on board a time machine and traveling backwards to that first time Library of Congress musicologist Alan Lomax stumbled into the Turner’s end of summer celebration and documented it for all posterity.
Adding particular poignance to this year’s event was the fact that earlier in the day, the Mississippi Development Authority’s Division of Tourism dedicated a marker to Turner’s brand of fife and drum music on the Mississippi Blues Trail. It’s located in downtown Como, Miss., directly across the street from a marker commemorating the lifework of Mississippi Fred McDowell. Next time you make the drive between Memphis and New Orleans, be sure to check it out.
The Ponderosa Stomp Foundation was sad to hear today that Ellie Greenwich, one of the leading songwriters of the early rock n’roll era, has passed away.
Greenwich was born in Brooklyn, NY in 1940 and raised in the suburb of Levittown. Her first instrument was the accordion, though she gave that up in short order to form a high-school vocal trio, the Jivettes. In 1958, she released her first single as a writer and performer: “Cha-Cha-Charming,” as Ellie Gaye.
After graduating from Hofstra University in 1962 (where she met her future husband and writing partner Jeff Barry) Greenwich landed a job at the Brill Building headquarters of Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller, and penned her first chart hits for Jay & the Americans and Darlene Love’s Exciters, the latter a group she’d work with for many years.
Along with Barry (from whom she separated in 1965,) Greenwich was responsible for such hits as “Da Doo Ron Ron,” “And Then He Kissed Me,” “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)” and “Leader of the Pack,” co-written with Shadow Morton. In 1991, she was inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame.
It was Greenwich, along with Barry, who gave rock n’roll teen bouffant queen Ronnie Spector “Be My Baby,” the hit that would turn her into an icon; a near-perfect expression of teenage lust and yearning that lives on as possibly the finest example of that era of songcraft. When Spector closed her set with it at Ponderosa Stomp 2008, the House of Blues crowd was absolutely rapt – even a little weepy.
On another personal note, during the Stomp crew’s first junket to New York City to host a show at Brooklyn’s McCarren Park Pool in July of 2007, several of us took a special walk to stand in front of the Brill Building at 1619 Broadway and take pictures in front of the doors that Greenwich and fellow writers passed through every day on their way to make the magic.
Like most traditions, the picnic has changed over the last 50-or so years, even as it has stayed the same. Otha and his daughter, Bernice Turner, who helped with the band, died on the same day in 2003. The grandkids are growing up — a few weeks ago, Thomas started her sophomore year in college. The goat meat sandwiches had sold out by the time we arrived, and this year, for the first time, the family charged a $2 admission to the picnic. 
