Careers Chosen while in high school don’t always prove to be long-lived choices—but then, the founders of New Orleans’ Rebirth Brass Band, which marks its 30th anniversary this year, didn’t start the group as a long-range career move. They did it just to play music.

The band’s original members were all in high school when they began performing together in the summer of 1983.

“When we first started, we were just playing for fun, just going down to the French Quarter in New Orleans playing for tips, just something for us to do during the course of the summer. And during the school year, we’d go out to the French Quarter as well,” says drummer Keith Frazier.

Rebirth Brass Band makes their first appearance at the San Jose Jazz Summer Fest Main Stage on Aug. 10.

Those high schoolers—who included Frazier and his brother, Phil, the band’s tuba/sousaphone player, as well as trumpeter Kermit Ruffins—have gone on to become a force in the New Orleans music scene. The band has even performed—and acted a bit—on Treme, the HBO series about the rebuilding of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina.

Last year, they became Grammy winners for Best Regional Roots Album for The Rebirth of New Orleans.

Rebirth began by playing a lot of traditional jazz, and over the years has built on that genre, adding new influences, and creating many original tunes with a bass-heavy, brassy sound.

“Now our repertoire of songs has really grown since we first started out. We do a little bit of everything—R&B, hip-hop, all in a New Orleans way, so we’ve grown musically that way,” Frazier says.

Strong bass and rhythm are what drive the group’s sound. Brass creates the undeniably showy top notes in this music, but it’s the heavy, insistent bass notes that get people dancing.
And the bass part is where the band begins when writing songs.

“The bass is the root of the song, the tuba part, we try to get that part of the song first. Without the foundation, you have nothing,” Frazier says.

The brotherly dynamic is at work here, too, with Keith playing bass drum, and Phil on tuba/sousaphone.

Ruffins went solo in the early ’90s, but still occasionally collaborates with the band. In fact, in recording more than a dozen albums (13, not counting compilations), the band has brought more than a couple dozen musicians through its lineup—and they all bring their own influences to the mix.

“A lot of these young guys get into the band and there’s all types of New Wave music, electronics and different things like that, so it brings a different kind of flavor to an old form of music,” Frazier says.

“Jazz has been around for hundreds of years, but we’ve added just a little bit of a new take on it [that] brings something new to it, keeps it lively and fresh,” he adds.

Rebirth Brass Band
Sat, Aug. 10, 2pm
Main Stage

also:

Sat, Aug. 10, 9pm

Y&P Stage

$20 festival admission

If you want to see how strange Quintron’s shows can get, just watch the video for his song “Freedom.” He comes off as downright odd offstage, too, and is known for pranking interviewers who try to get a grip on what this indie-rock cult hero is really like (showing up in a wheelchair, claming to be married to his cousin, that kind of thing).

You’d think his bandmates at least would have some insight into the New Orleans’ musician’s psyche, but he’s cleverly made his reputation as a one-man band. Talk about insular: he’s even invented several of the instruments that go into his percussion-heavy, beat-driven sound.

They’re all pretty fascinating—the “spit machine” used saliva to change the pitch on a hand organ—but the defining Quintron instrument has got to be the Drum Buddy (pictured above), which turned the drums into a multimedia show of light and sound, and even had its own infomercial.

There is one person Quintron frequently collaborates with: his wife, Miss Pussycat. The addition of her vocals (not to mention the puppets) gives some of their songs a certain B-52s-on-acid quality. They’ll perform together at the Blank Club next Wednesday.

Another recent collaboration netted Quintron a part in an appropriately weird Grammy nomination. Cajun band Steve Riley and the Mamou Playboys got a “Best Regional Roots Music Album” nod this year for their 2011 record Grand Isle, which featured a cover of the Quintron song “Chatterbox.” Q himself recorded and played organ on Grand Isle’s version.

He may never get a Grammy for his own “swamp tech” sound, but it’s not likely to affect his long run of 13 albums and various wild projects (art installations, field recordings, etc.). Still, we can all mourn for the totally freaky acceptance speech he would have prepared.

Quintron and Miss Pussycat perform Wed, June 27 at the Blank Club in San Jose, 8pm; $10.

Click here to view the embedded video.

It was a dark and stormy night. The road, slick with rain, reflected back the light from my headlights as I traveled down a lonely stretch of Coleman Avenue. It was the perfect night to stay home, yet there I was, driving to Bluz By-You, eager to escape the dreary Santa Clara weather with a taste of New Orleans.

The restaurant was easy to find: a sign towers over the building, proclaiming “Bluz By-You’ in large purple letters next to the silhouette of a saxophone player. The place occupies a squat wood-and-brick building with steeply sloped roof, eaves projecting far over the sidewalk; it looks like a shack one might find in the middle of the bayou. Once I stepped through the wooden door, however, I was whisked from the swamp and thrown into the middle of a different world—a romanticized nighttime street cafe in the French Quarter with lavender walls surrounding an expansive dining area. The walls, with their uniform lavender color and decals—a yellow crescent moon and glowing street lamps—give the illusion of a twilight sky. The vines hanging from the ceiling, though fake, seemed a natural touch to complete the illusion.

As I moved through the restaurant, I quickly forgot the horrible weather outside, because Bluz By-You is a warm and inviting place: the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, from the blues music playing over the sound system to the chatter of the patrons, drowned out the patter of the rain, while the heat from the fire roaring in the brick fireplace warmed my cold, wet clothes. Though the restaurant was filled to near capacity, the staff was attentive.

I pored over the menu—pages of salads, sandwiches and entrees, all with a Cajun or Creole twist. I settled on the hot link po’ boy, a quintessential Louisiana dish, with Cajun-style fries. To drink, I had a Abita, Bluz’s flagship draft brew. As I ate, I watched the crowd—predominately older men and women out for dinner, drinks and music with their significant others. The club’s primary attraction is its live music: blues, jazz and Zydeco bands Tuesday through Saturday with no cover charge. When the band began its main act, conversation became impossible. The guitar riffs and vocals were deafening even in the very back of the restaurant.

The stage was alive. In the rear, a drummer pounded a solid beat while a bassist strummed in the corner, eyes closed and rocking his head. In the front three saxophonists and a trumpeter crowded two microphones, arching their backs and blasting out their notes, while the blues guitarist and singer, the frontman, stole the show with his riffs and improvised solos. The crowd waved their hands and erupted into applause and whistles at the end of every song. As the show wrapped up, I left slightly deaf in my right ear and determined to return.

View more images from Bluz By-You.