"Kiss You Down South" 2

After el V came home last night we listened back via the burned CD to what they'd done in the session.

Omighoddessa of New Orleans, does that guitar sound fat, full, beautiful.  El V's playing is so authoratative one doesn't even notice how complex the music is.

He's also achieved his goal: that this sound -- guitar, voice and delivery -- just like what it sounds like, particularly to him, in our kitchen.  It really does.  When he's talking on the burn to the engineers and PG (PG and MB are co-producers with el V) I thought he was talking right there in TR's living room.

TR's house is from the late nineteenth century -- all wood.  The massive cabinent in which he has his CD player is from that era and all wood.

As PG understood immediately, "Now that I'm here I really get what N has always said about how the atmosphere, the moisture and the wood that are New Orleans is a big part of what allows New Orleans music its greatness and uniqueness."

It's really gorgeous and all it is is one guy playing his guitar and singing his songs.

So this is what it is through Saturday.  Sunday night friends are throwing a party.  Monday we go back to NYC to get ready for Haiti and then Maryland.  Oh, yes, and our anniversary is in there somewhere too.

TR left very early this AM for the week.  When I came down two hours later, Mz Minnie KK EotU was in her favorite sunshine puddle in the dining room.  She mewed to me, rolled over and told me to pet her stomach.  Last night she purred while I petted her, and she purred again this AM.  Then el V showed up and she went all skittish -- or perhaps all flirtatious.  You don't always know with her.

She was interesting last night during that listen back session:  We were all sitting in the front room.  She came to join us.  People sitting around reading, computing, talking, while music plays is her security and safety zone.  She sat in chair that was at the height all the rest of us were sitting.  Her ears were very busy, as busy as ours, with the tracks playing.  She did not go to sleep.  Toys are of no interest to her whatsoever.  One gets the feeling that she may well be a most intellectual feline.  But then, that's who her person is.  And, just as her person is a true gentleman, she's also a true lady.

In other areas: since MB hadn't time to shop he wasn't able to make the usual studio dinnertime feast he does for sessions.  So out it was, to Bacchanal.  It, like dba Saturday night for John Boutte was filled with uptown hipsters. At Tip's later (after the Moon Tour, which this time was depressing as we spent most of it driving past endless empty houses in MidCity), which was at least half 'ghetto' fro the benefit, white uptown girls watched the black girls dancing and carefully mirrored every move they made.  It was weird ads hell to watch, though it surely must have been more fun to do!

MB says that HBO Treme showed the uptowners where to go and how to learn the moves that are supposd to make them hip downtown. I dunno about that though, blessed as I was by an endless lecture by one of them about why Sade was the greatest musical artist of our time.