New Orleans Original

It was in 1977 when a few native New Orleans musicians agreed to form a traditional jazz brass band in the spirit of the genre's earliest kind of organized music groups. These groups are synonymous with the city's historically rich culture and music scene, particularly within the context of the jazz funeral.

The group, now comprising eight members and now famous throughout the U.S. and around the world as the Dirty Dozen Brass Band, first sprouted roots via the Dirty Dozen Social and Pleasure Club. This group of men would provide entertainment at baseball games, picnics, parades, weddings, neighborhood gatherings and, most notably, funerals. New Orleans residents first dubbed the group the Dozen, which led to Dirty Dozen and later its current four-word name.

Social and pleasure clubs have a history that dates back several centuries in New Orleans when black Southerners couldn't afford life insurance and such groups would provide the proper funeral arrangements for them. Brass bands were usually hired to follow the funeral procession that would play somber, traditional tunes and end with jubilee dance numbers. By the time the Dirty Dozen Brass Band arrived on the scene in the 1970s, traditional funeral processions and brass bands were perceived as somewhat archaic. However, this particular group - Gregory Davis, trumpet and vocals; Sammie Williams on trombone; Roger Lewis on baritone and soprano saxophone; Kevin Harris on tenor saxophone; Terence Higgins on drums; Julius McKee, Kirk Joseph and Jeffrey Hills Sr. on sousaphone; Jamie Mclean on guitar; and Efrem Towns on trumpet and flugelhorn - made a name for itself, touring more than 30 countries on five continents, recording 10 albums and playing as guest studio musicians on albums by Elvis Costello, Dave Matthews, David Bowie, Widespread Panic and the Black Crowes just to name a few.

Lewis, who has been with the band since it first sprouted roots in New Orleans, the birthplace of jazz along with some of the genre's exceptional talent - Louis Armstrong, Sidney Bechet, and Wynton and Branford Marsalis - was born and raised in town.

The group's latest work, "Funeral for a Friend," is dedicated to famed musician, Anthony "Tuba Fats" Lacen who was put to rest this past January. The record pays homage to an era of the popular funeral processions that always called upon the increasingly popular groups of the 18th century to play the music: brass bands. On the way to the cemetery it was always customary that the band perform a mournful dirge or spiritual and on its return into town, usually a rousing version of something like "When the Saints go Marching In."

In observance of a funeral, Bechet once said, "Music here is as much a part of death as it is of life."

The album represents the exploration into the beauty and influence of traditional blues and gospel hymns that reflect not only on loss and death but the celebration of life and love which is common in funeral music. The new record is a stark contrast to the band's 2002 work entitled "Medicated Magic" (both out on Rope-A-Dope Records).

The Beach Reporter this week sat down with Lewis and talked about the album, the New Orleans music scene and his friend "Tuba Fats."

The Beach Reporter: 'Funeral For A Friend' is dedicated to 'Tuba Fats.'

Roger Lewis: Yes, he was the first tuba player in the band and when we really decided to put the band together he decided he didn't want to be a member, he wanted to do his own thing. Some of the tunes we did over the years that we already knew we used on this album, and so we went into the studio and just did it. We usually rehearse the music before we go into the studio but this time we went in and just created it as we went from tune to tune. Technically speaking, there are some things I don't like but I'm a musician and I can't be satisfied with everything anyway. But one thing I was satisfied with was that we really captured the feeling of a jazz funeral. That's serious, it'll make you cry. We dedicated it to "Tuba Fats." He died right after we finished the CD so we thought it was only fitting that we dedicate it to him. He had one of the largest jazz funerals in the history of New Orleans.

What kind of man was Tuba?

He was about 6-foot-3-inches and about 300 pounds - he was a big man. You would shake his hand and you wouldn't be able to see yours in his. I don't think he realized how famous and popular he was. He was very well-loved and a beautiful human being.
How do you think he shaped music in New Orleans?

Well, he revolutionized tuba playing around here. He was the most famous tuba player who has ever come out of New Orleans.

You play the baritone and the soprano saxophone. Does moving from one instrument to the other affect your playing?

Well, the soprano saxophone is really hard to play in tune but as far as switching from a big mouthpiece to a smaller mouthpiece, I really don't have a problem with that. I've been doing it a while. I play the baritone more than I play the soprano and so the only problem I have is when I have to make a switch. Picking up an instrument that's cold, sometimes I might have a tendency to play a bit out of tune. It's just a very delicate instrument and it can happen with any instrument. You've got to warm it up before you play it

What qualities do you like about each instrument?

The baritone is probably the most unexplored one out of all of the instruments. It's got such a wide range you can play as high as the soprano on a baritone using overtones. You can play chords or you can use the instrument as a percussion effect. The baritone requires more wind, and a lot of people don't want to deal with that and the weight of it because it is a heavy horn - you just don't hang it around your neck. I don't think there are as many baritone players as there are alto and tenor players.

Do you remember the first time music affected you in a way in which you knew you wanted to be a musician?

Well, I'll tell you what happened. When I was a kid, my first instrument was a piano which was back in the late 1940s/early 1950s. As a kid I would make toy saxophones. I would take newspaper and shape it into a saxophone and I would play in my back yard with it. I guess I had a hell of an imagination. I was fascinated with the sound and shape of that instrument. I had a cousin who played the alto saxophone; he was a professional musician. He gave the alto to another cousin who didn't keep it up. My dad bought me a tenor in the 10th grade and I began playing it. But I think it was my cousin who was really responsible for me really playing the saxophone by giving his saxophone to another cousin who didn't keep it up. When I finally got a saxophone I had to prove to him that I was going to be able to play this thing. One day I became good enough in which I was able to sit in with him. During my generation, it wasn't about TV; it was about radio, listening to different bands on the radio and I was always fascinated with music.

In your opinion, where do you think jazz is going?

Ah, who knows? I mean it ain't like it used to be back in the 1930s through the 1950s. There were all different styles of jazz - you had your bebop and your avant garde and many other styles - so who is to say where it's going. People are still trying to play it like they did in the 1920s and 1930s. People are still trying to learn how to play bebop which was so advanced it was music ahead of its time. People are still trying to play like Miles Davis, John Coltrane and Louis Armstrong, who are pioneers, so jazz is not dead but now where it's going, I don't know, I can't answer that question. I know it's here to stay, it's not going anywhere. But I do believe it's the most sophisticated music on the planet Earth. Jazz is less played and musicians are less paid these days. Somebody at the top is pushing the buttons and deciding what kind of music is being presented to the general population, and they push that. If they would push jazz music and play it as much as some of the pop and rap music is played then people would learn to love it as much as all this other music.

Over the years, the band has toured the world bringing its music to many countries. How do you think outsiders perceive the rich music history in New Orleans?

It's a music that is so powerful that it is so well-received in every country I've ever been in. It's better received than in most places in the United States, certainly more appreciated by those living outside New Orleans. People who have been born and raised around this music have a tendency to take it for granted but they do love it and everything. Places in Europe and Asia, they don't get a chance to hear anything like that so they just go ape. We played a gig in Beijing, China, a couple of years ago. We were on the bus going back to the hotel after the gig and the people were still dancing.

In your opinion, do you think the music scene in New Orleans has changed over the years?

Well, the music scene hasn't really changed that much. During my time, we had more nightclubs and I grew up during segregation so we had more places to play within the black community than you have now. New Orleans, you had music at just about every section of the city. It's not like that now, that part of it has changed. During the time when I was on Bourbon Street, we had more clubs and you could play where there was live music. They are getting back into that. It's alive but it's not like it used to be.

In looking back on your career, is there any one particular memory that sticks out?

I think it was playing Carnegie Hall. My whole music career has been a trip for me when I actually sit down and think about it. I used to like to read the encyclopedia and look at all of the pictures like the Louvre and Big Ben and cities like London and Paris, and all of a sudden you wake up and you're there - that really gets you. You hear about Carnegie Hall and you think you'll never play on that particular stage and then there you are.

What is the biggest lesson music's taught you?

Keep on practicing, don't ever stop. You can never stop learning, it's endless. You may think you're powerful but you don't know everything.