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Lagniappe

 
THE

Defender Picks

 

Vendredi

July 21st

Friday Pop Up

Drifter Hotel, 1PM

By Lucille’s Roti Shop

 

Louisiana Sportsman Show

Superdome, 3PM

Back in NOLA after 12 years

 

Dinner and a ZOOvie

Audubon Park, 6PM

A showing of Moana

 

Summer Nerd Movie Nights

Tubby & Coo’s, 7PM

A showing of The Neverending Story

 

John Waters Film Festival

NOMA, 7PM

A showing of Pink Flamingos

 

Leonardo Hernandez Trio

Casa Borrega, 7PM

Great food, great music

 

Comedy F#@k Yeah

The Dragon’s Den, 8PM

Ft. Shane Torres

 

New Rebel Family

House of Blues, 8PM

Ft. AYO, The Other LA, Akadia, and Ventruss

 

Mia Borders Trio

Foundation Room, 9:30PM

Open to the public

 

Alligator ChompChomp

The Circle Bar, 10PM

Crunchin’ on those notes

 

Foundation Free Fridays

Tips, 10PM

Ft. Walter “Wolfman” Washington + The Fortifiers

 

Spektrum Fridays

Techno Club, 11PM

Ft. Mikel Douglas + Dozal

SAMEDI

July 22nd

Ice Cream Social

Longue Vue, 10AM

Plus adoptable pets from the SPCA

 

Veggie Growing Basics

Hollygrove Market, 1PM

Grow your own food

 

National Hot Dog Day

Dat Dog, 3PM

Raffles, ice cream and more

 

Cocktails and Queens

Piscobar, 6PM

A queer industry dance party

 

Immersive Sound Bath

Nola Yoga Loft, 7PM

Soothing 3D Soundscapes

 

Paul Mooney

Jazz Market, 8PM

Also ft. music by Caren Green

 

New Orleans Beatles Festival

House of Blues, 8PM

Come together, right now

 

Christmas in July

The Willow, 8PM

Ugly sweaters and peppermint shots

 

HOUxNOLA

Three Keys, 9PM

With Coolasty ft. Jack Freeman and more

 

Particle Devotion

Banks St Bar, 9PM

Ft. Paper Bison +  Tranche

 

Cesar Comanche

Art Klub, 9:30PM

Ft. Ghost Dog, Knox Ketchum and more

 

Gimme A Reason

Poor Boy’s Bar, 10PM

Ft. Savile and local support

 

Techno Club

Techno Club, 10PM

Ft. Javier Drada, Eria Lauren, Otto

 

DIMANCHE

July 23rd

From Here to Eternity

Prytania Theatre, 10AM

The 1953 classic

 

Eight Flavors

Longue Vue, 12PM

Sarah Lohman will discuss her new book

 

Book Swap

Church Alley Coffee Bar, 12PM

Bring books, get books

 

Urban Composting

Hollygrove Market, 1PM

Learn about easy composting

 

Brave New World Book Club

Tubby & Coo’s, 2PM

Open to all

 

Gentleman Loser

The Drifter Hotel, 3PM

A classic poolside rager

 

Mixology 101

Carrolton Market

With Dusty Mars

 

Freret Street Block Party

Freret St, 5PM

A celebratory bar crawl

 

Mushroom Head

Southport Music Hall, 6PM

+ Hail Sagan and American Grim

 

Glen David Andrews

Little Gem Saloon, 8PM

Get trombone’d by the greatest

 

Hot 8 Brass Band

The Howlin Wolf, 10PM

Brass music for a new era

 

Church*

The Dragon’s Den, 10PM

Ft. KTRL, Unicorn Fukr, RMonic


Jay-Z, Kanye Watch Throne


by Charlie Christian

After arriving early at the Watch the Throne Experience (presented by Swag Industries in collaboration with Coutour Lifestyle, LLC),a lap of the Superdome was in order to polish off some High Life. New Orleans looked tucked in for the night: cars sliding past on the expressway, Occupiers snuggled low in their tents, even abandoned hospitals stood complacent and resigned. The lights ringing the Dome shifted idly from purple to blue to gold. Except for the drunk couple fighting next to the broken open port-o-potty it felt like a scene from Sleepless in Seattle. That is all to say that what transpired in the Arena a short while later at the hands of Jay-Z and Kanye West was the complete, m***er f***ing opposite. 

 

 

Having lingered too long, we were rounding the upper hallway when the operatic A-bomb that is “H.A.M.” lashed from the speakers. The audience cracked open, letting out a collective roar rivaling any decibels heard in the Dome Sunday night. Good, God! There they were, out in the middle of the audience, each man on his own raised platform tag-teaming verses back and forth over bobbing flat-brims and raised cell phones. “Merry Christmas, Charlie,” spoke the cosmos. “Thank you, Universe. Thank you!!”

 

 

Kanye and Jay Z roamed around their stages in-the-round working the crowd to a foaming. delirium. Slowly, their platforms started to rise. Up, up, up. They stood what looked like two stories above the crowd, now working the edges noticeably less, as TV screens on the sides of the towers looped images of snarling dogs, menacing Great White sharks, and clawing falcons.   (The montage seemed prime for a Herzog commentary: “Uns de aboosed animal shelta dat iz de American urban laanscape is beneath dem now az dey rize triumphrant like Gods.”)

 

After “H.A.M.” and  “Who Gon Stop Me” the platforms lowered. The opening bars of “Try a Little Tenderness” rolled over the crowd, Otis Redding’s woefully croon giving the audience a brief reprieve from the frenetic bluster. With an American flag spread behind the main stage, Ye and J emerged side by side basking in grandeur of it all. They actually seemed as happy as I was, like even they couldn’t believe this was real. Then the hook caught, “Got-a got-a, na na na.” We were off again. Fire balls plumed up from behind them as lazers - so many lazers - shot out overhead. This is what the “Waiting for Tonight” video would have looked like if it had been directed by Michael Bay.

 

 

The dynamic duo then split up, trading off for tit-for-tat mini-sets of their respective hits. Jay ran through “Where I’m from,” “Nigga What? Nigga Who?,” “Hard Knock LIfe,” “Izzo,” “Dirt off Your Shoulders,” “Big Pimpin’,” and “99 Problems.” Kayne led us through his backpack days to his black Bowie phase with “Jesus Walks,” “Golddigger,” “Heartless,” “Touch the Sky,” “All the Lights,” and “Good Life.”  

 

Do they give out awards for concerts? Cause if so this should win Best Show of the Year and a Lifetime Achievement Award simultaneously. The show was truly the physical embodiment of the album’s excess and braggadocio. That excess seemed less self-congratulatory and more celebratory, cathartic even. Kayne and Jay Z owned the faces on the the big screen, we shouted for their songs and we live vicariously through them, not the other way around. But that didn’t seem to be the point. As silly as it sounsd, the concert was lless a show by them and more a show for us.

 

 

I felt all of this as the closer “Niggas in Paris” hit its final notes. I still felt it as they did “Paris” a second time. The luster started to fade on the third. I was going the down the escalator as they ran through it for the seventh time. (Honest. Cross my heart. Seven times.) Hubris seemed to have gotten the best of them. The entire night was about putting on a show for the little people who paid $60 for the nose-bleeds. In return they levied an ego-soothing seven-peat encore tax. So be it. Lady friend in tow, I walked back out in the same docile city I left a few hours before. It was unchanged. I, however, was better, fuller than before. Guess a little of the glitter rubbed off.  




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Contributors

Renard Boissiere, Evan Z.E. Hammond, Naimonu James, Wilson Koewing, J.A. Lloyd, Nina Luckman, Dead Huey Long, Joseph Santiago, Andrew Smith, Cynthia Via, Austin Yde

Photographers


Art Director

Michael Weber, B.A.

Editor

Alexis Manrodt

Listings Editor

Linzi Falk

Editor Emeritus

B. E. Mintz

Editor Emeritus

Stephen Babcock

Published Daily