I had the pleasure of catching this group of New Orleans-based ragamuffins called "Loose Marbles" playing for dancers last night in Manhattan. They make such a joyous, hot jazzy noise, led by Meschiya Lake on vocals. Meschiya eschews the mic and just belted all night into the crowded room. The percussion section looks like a bit a junk lying on the floor that the trumpet player leans over and bangs on with a stick.
I was there mostly to listen. Their music is best suited to balboa and fast charlestons, which aren't my forté by a stretch. I'd rather concentrate on their musicianship anyway, which is raw but tight.
I'm happy to see them playing for dancers in a club near Penn Station. But I'd really rather be squatting on a sidewalk in the French Quarter with all the other onlookers, as Loose Marbles swings for loose change.
