In New Orleans, Mardi Gras isn’t just a massive party perched at the cusp of Carnival season and the solemn day of Lent. It’s a day that the complex heritage of the city is on display. Neighborhoods become parade routes; families and tourists line the streets to cheer and interact with folks aboard a glittering stream of floats. Along with those oversized, slow-rolling works of art, musicians march and revelers strut to a distinct but varied soundtrack, from brass bands to bounce.
Though some of the traditions date back to medieval Europe, Mardi Gras took hold in southwestern Louisiana in the 18th century and never let go. Secret societies known as krewes, such as Mistick Krewe of Comus and Krewe aof Rex, organized parades and parties, donning masks for relative anonymity. Grand European-style ballrooms held galas for the rich, where dancers could lose themselves in hypnotic waltzes.
Excluded from these festivities, African Americans formed their own krewes. In a nod to the Native Americans who offered sanctuary to runaway slaves, they called themselves Mardi Gras Indians, with "tribes" named after their ward, street or gang. In the early 20th century, Krewe of Zulu emerged from the Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club.
Some of the original krewes still exist, along with many contemporary groups, who build parade floats and plan Mardi Gras events throughout the year.
New Orleans’ Mardi Gras is a real-time reflection of whatever is going on in the city, but it’s also a tribute to the resilience of its residents. Only war, pandemic and a police strike have canceled or scaled back the traditional street parades. Even after Hurricane Katrina, New Orleanians rallied to show they could not be beat. Facing coronavirus in 2021, denizens decorated the exterior of their homes like parade floats for a socially distanced happening they called Yardi Gras. In 2022, the city’s health department rode along with Krewe of Muses to toss thousands of COVID tests to the crowds instead of beads.
Heading west, along the state’s farms and bayous, Mardi Gras customs reflect the rural lifestyle of the descendants of French, German, West Indian and other settlers. Towns such as Mamou, around 200 miles northwest of New Orleans, celebrate the Courir ("Run") de Mardi Gras. Wearing home-stitched outfits with fringes, unfussy masks and pointy capuchon hats, partygoers ride horses or run from house to house, "begging" for ingredients for a communal gumbo, and chase live chickens (bound for said gumbo).
Like the celebration, Mardi Gras music is a reflection of southwestern Louisiana — a cultural pocket of African American, European and Caribbean traditions. The regional sounds that sprung from immigration, slavery, military conflicts, commerce, faith, and — most of all — entertainment, occupy a unique and deeply influential space in American music. So if you can’t get to New Orleans for a walking cocktail, or to Evangeline Parish to chase a yardbird, celebrate Mardi Gras wherever you are with some of the state’s most evocative players and their songs.
"Mardi Gras In New Orleans"
This Carnival anthem was written by Henry Byrd, a.k.a. Professor Longhair, whose Afro-Cuban boogie woogie piano riffing and right-hand triplets reverberate in the playing of Allen Toussaint, Dr. John, Antoine "Fats" Domino and more. "Fess" calls out to parade honorees the Zulu King and Queen, and drops a pin on the Tremé neighborhood — home of numerous influential New Orleans musicians, by mentioning the intersection of "St. Claude and Dumaine," now the site of Louis Armstrong Park.
Fats Domino recorded his version in 1953, whistled melody and all, before "Ain't It A Shame" and "Blueberry Hill" made him famous far beyond New Orleans. Elvis, Little Richard and John Lennon are among those who praised Fats as an inspiration. Fats’ cohort included two other sons of the city who put their stamp on thousands of records: composer, producer and horn player Dave Bartholomew, and drummer Earl Palmer, who took his signature backbeat from New Orleans to Hollywood as a member of legendary session players the Wrecking Crew. The three men practically form a rock ‘n’ roll trinity.
"Big Chief"
Earl King, a New Orleans blues/R&B stalwart (whose work was covered by Jimi Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughan), wrote "Big Chief," but Professor Longhair made it a hit. Big Chief is the top spot in every tribe of Mardi Gras Indians, who merge African and Native American traditions. Amid wildly colorful Carnival gatherings, Mardi Gras Indians stand out with their huge headdresses and hand sewn beaded and feathered costumes; the Chiefs wear the most elaborate outfits.
"Big Chief" notes the hierarchy of each tribe — from spy boys, who watch out for rivals, and flag boys, who may carry a coat of arms. Though once known for gang-style violence, participants in "masking Indian," such as Bo Dollis, lobbied for peaceful coexistence. He elevated the costuming aspect of the tribes when he joined The Wild Magnolias as a flag boy and rose through the ranks to the honored position of Big Chief.
"Iko Iko"
Artists ranging from Dr. John to Cyndi Lauper to the Grateful Dead have covered this tale of two Mardi Gras Indian tribes meeting on a parade route. A battle cry is called out ("Jock-A-Mo"). Threats are made ("I’m gonna set your flag on fire"). The song title is a victory chant.
Originally recorded with a jump blues feel as "Jock-A-Mo" by James "Sugar Boy" Crawford in 1953, the Dixie Cups made "Iko Iko" instantly recognizable a decade later. The New Orleans girl group had a No. 1 hit with the Phil Spector co-written "Chapel of Love." On this Mardi Gras classic, however, their vocals are accompanied only by drumsticks on ashtrays, handclaps, and a sparse bass overdub.
"Mardi Gras Mambo"
Long before he co-founded the Meters and the Neville Brothers, a high school-aged Art Neville sang and played piano on The Hawketts’ Latin-steeped R&B "Mardi Gras Mambo."
Two decades later, he re-recorded the song with The Meters. That pioneering group’s spacious, muscular funk landed them the house band spot at Allen Toussaint's record label, as well as gigs playing with Paul McCartney, the Rolling Stones and countless more. The Meters have since been sampled on hundreds of hip-hop, pop and dance records.
"Mardi Gras Day"
Dr. John creates a parade experience in this song, from the big bass drum in the lead, to the horn players touting the melody, to the second line — the folks who freeform it behind the main procession.
A singer, multi-instrumentalist, producer, and six-time GRAMMY winner, Malcolm "Mac" Rebennack created the persona of Dr. John, The Night Tripper, a luridly costumed musical "conjure" man who blended New Orleans R&B with psychedelia. His debut album Gris-Gris attracted a cult following, including highbrow rockers Eric Clapton and Mick Jagger (who later recorded with him). Dr. John also served time in the Wrecking Crew, playing on sessions with everyone from Sonny & Cher to Frank Zappa.
Rebennack swapped his voodoo revue for Mardi Gras classics on Dr. John’s Gumbo in 1972 and enjoyed his status as one of New Orleans’ most prominent musical emissaries for the rest of his life.
"The Mardi Gras March"
Beloved and vastly influential musician Louis Armstrong made the cover of Time on Feb. 21, 1949, a crown of trumpets adorning his head. But in the article, he was even more jazzed about an honor he said he’d waited for all his life: being King of the Zulu parade at Mardi Gras, which happened a week after his issue was published.
The man who sang "What a Wonderful World" grew up in poverty in a New Orleans neighborhood so rough it was called "The Battlefield." Music was ultimately his salvation, but it was the Zulu parades through his ward that uplifted his spirits as a boy.
Founded in 1909, Krewe of Zulu was rooted in a benevolent society that first made insurance available to the Black community and raised money to cover funeral expenses of its members. Today, they organize Toys for Tots and anti-crime drives, and raise tuition money for college-bound kids.
The "Birthplace of Jazz" — where ragtime met the blues and danced via brass instruments — continues to deliver significant jazz artists, like the Marsalis family (Ellis, Wynton, Branford) and Kermit Ruffins (Rebirth Brass Band). But it was Armstrong’s streetwise improvisational genius that made horn solos and the human voice extensions of one another, ushering in a new era of the genre.
"Ooh Poo Pah Doo"
Troy Andrews, better known as Trombone Shorty, was 4 years old when he made his stage debut at New Orleans Jazz Fest with Bo Diddley. He became a bandleader at 6. Before his teen years were done, he’d been a member of Stooges Brass Band and toured the world with Lenny Kravitz.
Since then, Andrews has played or collaborated with everyone from Pharrell to Foo Fighters and netted a GRAMMY nomination for Best Contemporary Jazz Album for his album Backatown. At any given time, his music may mine funk, hip-hop, R&B and hard rock, along with explosive brass.
Andrews also starred in the HBO series Tremé, which is his neighborhood. In one episode, he and brother James perform "Ooh Poo Pah Doo," a Mardi Gras Indian brass band staple and an Allen Toussaint-produced hit for their grandfather, Jesse Hill. For 2022’s Mardi Gras festivities, Andrews held his second-annual "Shorty Gras," a slate of performers including Big Freedia, Queen of Bounce, and GRAMMY nominated rock/hip hop/soul group Tank and the Bangas.
"Mardi Gras Zydeco"
Clifton Chenier, the Opelousas-born "King of Zydeco," liked to say that zydeco was French music mixed with rock 'n' roll. But the origins of this mid-century modern Creole dance music, characterized by accordion and metal rub board or "frottoir," are far murkier.
Evolved from Cajun/Creole "la la" music and "juré," a syncopated, a cappella style from West Africa and the West Indies, zydeco also borrows from New Orleans R&B and rock, and East Texas blues. The GRAMMY-winning Chenier was its first famous practitioner — name-dropped in song by Paul Simon, Rory Gallagher and John Mellencamp, and covered by Phish. Zydeco’s fame is often generational, with contemporary players like Geno Delafose, Chris Ardoin, and C.J. Chenier hailing from the genre’s originators but moving it forward.
"La Danse de Mardi Gras"
Cajun and Creole country are rich with cattle and horse farms (zydeco’s beloved Boozoo Chavis raised and trained racehorses near Lake Charles), along with rice and other crops. But Mardi Gras participants have to sing for their supper, or stand up on a horse, or do something to entertain the locals while asking them for ingredients to go into the town’s gumbo.
Traditionally, a Cajun song and/or dance was offered in exchange for foodstuffs. Afterwards, the horsemen ride triumphantly through the town’s main thoroughfare and eventually everyone eats.
"Mardi Gras Song"
Spanning the Acadiana region to southeastern Texas, swamp pop existed for years before it had a name. Cajun singer/songwriters like Bobby Charles and Warren Storm grew up around traditional Cajun and Creole music, fell in love with Fats Domino and rock ‘n’ roll, and added elements of country and western music to the mix.
They came up with dance tunes that were either impossibly upbeat (Charles’ "See You Later, Alligator," a hit for Bill Haley and His Comets), or torrid waltzes (Phil Phillips’ "Sea Of Love"). John Fogerty borrowed swamp pop’s cadence and imagery long before he ever actually saw a bayou.
The subgenre also developed a fanatical following in the U.K.: Led Zeppelin frontman Robert Plant had a copy of Storm’s "Prisoner’s Song" as a boy; decades later, he recorded and performed with Storm in the southwestern Louisiana supergroup Lil’ Band of Gold. The Beatles’ "Oh! Darlin" was such a precise homage to swamp pop that Storm says some Louisiana folks thought they were locals at first listen.
