Corey is Nawlins royalty. A grandfather who played drums with the Preservation Hall, Corey did stints with the Dirty Dozen Brass Band and Galactic before starting his Treme Funktet. Like many New Orleans musicians, Corey is a multi-instrumentalist playing trombone as well as keyboards. This evening was billed as a “jam session” with an unusual start time of 930. I arrive at the studio which occupies an address in the Space Ballroom complex. The studio has a nice stage, decent sound system, and a no frills bar. I sit towards the back to get a full view of the place. A crew of youngsters who seem affiliated with the space hit the stage. Drums, bass, and keys noodle a little to make sure the sound is solid. A figure in a trench coat and wool hat appears and sings nice versions of Crazy by Gnarls Barkley and Nat King Cole’s Smile. They hop off stage, not quite an opening act but system checkers. Another hour goes by and the crowd is starting to get restless. I notice the crowd, I realize that of the hundred or so patrons and workers that i am one of five white people in the place. This never happens. In addition to the racial disparity, it seems that everyone knows each other, like I was transported to a house party. I rarely dwell on this, but given the late start, I had time to evaluate. Could be the music, economics, what someone chooses to spend on, or some combination. At 1130, Henry and entourage appear from the rear. High fiving and greeting takes another 20 minutes which lands us close to midnight. Corey sets up at the keyboards with his brother on drums and another guy on a drum pad thing. The trio noodles for a bit before we hear from Corey. Turns out he was at Yale for an event that ran long and was unclear as to his jam session duties. He queries, “y’all know Doobie Powell?” I’m one of the few that doesn’t raise my hand. Turns out that Powell, a Hartford native , is a big deal in the soul-gospel-funk production world. His father toured with Richard “Groove” Holmes and played with the original Sugar Hill Gang, so yeah, pedigree. Turns out the Powell entourage and the Henry entourage are all friends which explains the house party vibe. Doobie takes the stage and plays another keyboard for some more noodling. The music reminds me of Robert Glasper or that Beastie Boys instrumental record “The In Sound from Way Out”. It’s past my bedtime, so I don’t last much longer. It’s nice to know we walk among legends and all their friends.
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