Keeping the Beat on the Street by Mick Burns Page A

Joly
    Cats put on union drawers; they had all kind of like sticks with feathers on them and stuff. Somebody said, “Mama Ruth got a party—it’s in the project by Goo’s house.” So we second lined over to the Lafitte project, and I stayed out all day playing with them .
    So every Sunday after that, if somebody had a dance or a party in the Tremé, they’d say “Hey, Tubal Come on out, we’re going to pass the hat.” So we struck up at the Caldonia, and we paraded all the way round the Tremé to that dance. But I was busy with the Olympia; I really didn’t have time to stick with it, so I got Kirk Joseph to come and play instead. Then we brought his brother Charles in, then Roger Lewis, then Gregory Davis .
    What happened, Roger showed Benny and them how they could make a brass band together. Fats Domino’s work had started slowing down, and Roger wasn’t working that much. They went to a secret rehearsal: Roger, Benny, Jenell Marshall the snare drummer, Kirk, Charles. They went to Frog’s house—I think he was showing them how they could write things out, and how funky they could get, because he was there with them also. Then came the St. Joseph’s Day parade. I was playing with the Olympia, and I saw Roger and Benny and them coming. They told Lionel Batiste and them, “Y’all keep that band with the kazoos and stuff over there,” and they wouldn’t play with Lionel .
    The Olympia headed up the parade, and I could see Lionel and them behind us. And I could also see a big crowd way behind them. I couldn’t see exactly who it was, but when we got to Hunter’s Field (on Claiborne and St. Bernard where the Tambourine and Fan was), there was Benny, Roger, Gregory Davis, Efrem Towns, Kirk—man, they were wailing! And fast. It took off from there .
    I remember when they put the Interstate 10 over Claiborne—it got rid of the dust. With those trees on the neutral ground, no grass could grow, because of the shade. It would be dusty, dusty, dusty! Cats would kick up the dust dancing—you’d be covered. Then it got muddy when the freeway came through, but they still brought the parades through there .
    OBITUARY IN New Orleans Music MAGAZINE, BY MICK BURNS
Anthony Lacen: Goodbye Tuba Fats
Born 15 September 1949; died II January 2004
    Anthony Lacen (a.k.a. “Tuba Fats”) was the eldest of five children. His parents, Johnny and Leola Lacen, had moved to New Orleans from Georgia to find work, and the family lived on Simon Bolivar in the Third Ward, in the area known as Central City.
    As a child, he delivered newspapers and hustled in the nearby Garden District, where he did domestic chores for a few cents. Once he started to play tuba in the high school band, he had another hustle. A trumpet-playing neighbor, “Big” Nat Dowe, gave him some informal tuition on the porch of his house, and soon Tuba was playing on the street with bands led by Doc Paulin, Nat Dowe, and with the Gibson band. Dowe also had a dance band, which did a lot of work at the Elks Club over the river. The band included David Grillier, Buddy Charles, Flo Anckle, and a bass player who used to get drunk and not show up. Despite initial reluctance, Tuba was persuaded to join and was soon supplying the shuffle rhythms the band needed. This was the beginnings of his style and his unique contribution to bass horn playing—he wanted to play double bass on the tuba. Soon he was making nocturnal bicycle trips down to the French Quarter, listening to such as Placide Adams, Chester Zardis, and James Prevost—there were plenty of role models.
    He was doing nothing in particular when Gregg Stafford recruited him for the Fairview Baptist Church Band, and the offshoot, The Hurricane Band. Then followed several years with Dejan’s Olympia Brass Band, with whom, in 1976, he recorded “Tuba Fats”—the nickname bestowed upon him by Danny Barker