For avid concertgoers in New Orleans, the biggest gamble of the Foburg Music Festival comes on Saturday. In addition to the tiny bit of fatigue gently beginning to set in from the always-epic Friday night showcases, Saturday tends to fall on the same day as Uptown’s annual Irish Channel St. Patrick’s Day parade, which is generally not to be missed. Nevertheless, for those souls fearless enough to stomach an entire afternoon of green beer before making their way back to the Marigny for night two of the festival, the rewards are always great and often unexpected (see 2010’s Rotary Downs never ending set of kick drum-shattering greatness at d.b.a.). Tonight was no exception.
My night began at Carl Mack Presents, an art gallery/teen room hang-out (??), where Smiley With A Knife put on a characteristically unglamorous – yet phenomenal – performance that set the stage for a jaw-dropping set by the four-piece Atlanta instrumental band Sorry No Ferrari, who combined a braggable Don Caballero influence with Yes’ early penchant for jazz-infused progressive epics.
After a quick stop at Friendly’s bar around the corner, I ran to catch the much-talked about Big History at Maison Upstairs, which has undergone some necessary and extremely beneficial aesthetic changes. I was originally nervous about seeing an act like the Hood Internet, who was set to play the Maison “Penthouse” later on the evening, in a place that until very recently was just a tiny square corner on the second floor of an uninspired Marigny home. But now the performance area had been shifted ninety degrees, and an actual stage had been erected to allow for both a wider and a higher view.
Next up was New Grass Country Club, whom Barryfest is wont to talk very highly about, at Blue Nile Downstairs. New Grass’ set was fueled by the inventive, though understated, bass of Andrew Landry, as well as by the animated, carefree energy of lead singer Jack Donovan whose enthusiasm for being on stage is nothing short of contagious.
The night concluded back at the Maison, where a massive gathering of excited fans crowded both the downstairs stage for Das Racist and the upstairs bar for the Hood Internet. Both shows were massive successes: Das Racist put on a hilarious, drunken bash that would mark the beginning of Himanshu Suri’s epic binge and crash; while the Hood Internet lorded over a hot, sweat and smoke filled neon bedroom party that lasted well into the late hours of Sunday morning.