The African sense of using song for purposes of satire and praise
And then there was Black Benny, the drummer, six foot six, nothing but muscle. He was handsome in some sort of African way. He was all man, physically. He feared nobody. He was raised in the Third Ward – Perdido and Bolivar Streets – that was called “the battleground.” It was one of the toughest neighborhoods in New Orleans other than the ”Irish Channel.” EDIT APRIL
(…)
And then there was Black Benny, the drummer, six foot six, nothing but muscle. He was handsome in some sort of African way. He was all man, physically. He feared nobody.
(…)
He was raised in the Third Ward – Perdido and Bolivar Streets – that was called “the battleground.” It was one of the toughest neighborhoods in New Orleans other than the ”Irish Channel.”
(…)
Map of New Orleans c. 1900, from the 10th edition of the Encyclopædia Britannica. Source
Taylor's map of New Orleans, Edition 1924-1925. © 1924 by Sam W. Taylor, Printer and Publisher. Courtersy New Orleans Public Library Archives, Louisiana Map Collection. Source
Buildings on Gallatin Street, New Orleans, Uncredited WPA photographer. 1930s (Between the 1820s and 1880s, a two-block section of New Orleans was considered the most violent place in the country. In fact, the New Orleans States wrote an article about this area in 1925, and reported that it was the "toughest two city blocks of all the waterfronts of the world.") Source
Black Benny was a great drummer. He had an African beat. He was something to see on the street with his bass drum that looked like a snare drum in front. You’d have to ask all the drummers how he did it, but he could move a whole band with just that bass drum.
Danny Barker quoted in: Hear Me Talkin’ To Ya, Nat Shapiro and Nat Hentoff, Dover Publications Inc.1955, p. 52
©
Black Benny was a great drummer. He had an African beat. He was something to see on the street with his bass drum that looked like a snare drum in front. You’d have to ask all the drummers how he did it, but he could move a whole band with just that bass drum.
Danny Barker quoted in: Hear Me Talkin’ To Ya, Nat Shapiro and Nat Hentoff, Dover Publications Inc.1955, p. 52
The Creole songs, then, were developed by Creole slaves in the eighteenth century and continued to be created during the nineteenth. This body of music is not to be confused with Zydeco or LaLa, the dance music of the country part of Louisiana, which was influenced by blues and rock and roll, although a few tunes overlap the categories.
(…)
The melody of the Creole songs dominates the rhythm pattern. There are no blues or spirituals per se, although some of the songs have the feeling of the blues in theme and a blues-like form of AAAB, as in the example below. There is literally one religious song. ”Marie Madeline,” but no outpouring of songs about God, faith, or church. The song writers seem to have remained and emphasized, instead, the African sense of using song for purposes of satire and praise.
(…)
"Musicians", from Giovani Antonio da Montecuccolo Cavazzi in Istorica descrizione de’ tre regni : Congo, Matamba ed Angola, 1687 Book 1, page 47 Source
They also created songs to memorialize remarkable events or people and to accompany activities such as religious rituals and hunting. The largest portion of the Creole songs is concerned with love and courtship, including one between a female slave and her master. This is a love duet in which she is clearly in control of the situation. The title is ”Z’amours Marianne.”
(…)
Marianne:
Si l’amour vous si fort, Michie-là,
Si l’amour vous si fort, Michie-là,
Si l’amour vous si fort,
Faut plein d’argent dans poche!
Michie:
Toutes mes cannes sont brûlées, Marianne, Toutes mes cannes sont brûlées, Marianne, Toutes mes cannes sont brûlées,
Ma récolte est flambée!
Marianne :
Si cannes à vous brûlées, Michie-là,
Si cannes à vous brûlées, Michie-là,
Si cannes à vous brûlées,
L’amour à vous flambé!
Characteristics of the melodies of the Creole slave songs is the rhythmical ”scotch snap” at the beginning of a song and the use of syncopated rhythm throughout, although some songs, notably ”Soulangae,” have a very smooth melody line.
(…)
”Misu Banjo” is a good example of the use of the snap. Also found in many of the songs is the initiation of the melody on the second beat of the measure instead of the first beat.
(…)
”Misu Banjo” is a good example of the use of the snap. Also found in many of the songs is the initiation of the melody on the second beat of the measure instead of the first beat. The emphasis on the second beat was carried over into the development of early jazz, and is a hallmark of that music.
(…)
The emphasis on the second beat was carried over into the development of early jazz, and is a hallmark of that music.
(…)
The second-beat start can be heard today in the singing and playing styles of some of the older musicians who play the early jazz in New Orleans. They will ”hesitate” for one beat before starting a song, even though that song may have been written to start on the first beat.
(…)
Sweet Emma Barret, an early jazz musician, was noted for this style of singing. Another attribute of the Creole tunes is their simplicity. ”To elaborate, Afro-American Creole folk musicians were able to structure most of the syncopated and complex rhythmic patterns in two-four, three-four, and six-eight meters.”
(…)
Sweet Emma Barrett at the piano Photo courtesy of the Louisiana State Museum © Emma Barrett (1897-1983) was also called the "Bell Gal" for the bells she wore around her knees. Accession Number 1978.118(B).07780
The harmony is not unlike those found in France or Spain, or the Caribbean. These close harmonies, however, are not as important as the melody line, which is set in major keys, minor keys being the exception and not the rule.”
(…)
Danse d'esclaves, 1770, attribué à Augustin Brunias. Lieu de conservation: musée d’Aquitaine (Bordeaux) © Mairie Bordeaux - Photo JM Arnaud Source
The harmony is not unlike those found in France or Spain, or the Caribbean. These close harmonies, however, are not as important as the melody line, which is set in major keys, minor keys being the exception and not the rule.”
(…)
Some of the Creole songs have found a niche in the Louisiana popular culture. A call and response tune , ”Eh, Là-Bas,” which is based on ”Vous Conné Tit la Maison Denis,” was sung by Creole men dressed as women and playing small guitars on Mardi Gras as late as the 1940s.
(…)
”Eh Là-Bas,” and ”Yé Tou Mandé pour Toi” or ”They All Asked for You,” are still very popular in the state;
(…)
”Eh Là-Bas,” and ”Yé Tou Mandé pour Toi” or ”They All Asked for You,” are still very popular in the state; the latter was recorded by Dave Bartholomew in the early 1950s and again by The Meters in the 1970s.
(…)
the latter was recorded by Dave Bartholomew in the early 1950s and again by The Meters in the 1970s.
(…)
The chants of the Mardi Gras Black Indians also use the Creole language, although they have been diluted over the years by American black speech. A good example of the Black Indians’ Creole is in the chant or prayer that opens their Mardi Gras observance.
(…)
They sing ”M’allé cu defio, en dans dey,” which is a corruption of the old Creole song, ”M ‘allé couri dans déser,” used in connection with Voodoo rituals and associated with the Calinda dance.’
Sybil Kein, Creole, The History and Legacy of Louisiana’s Free People of Color. 2000, Louisiana State University Press, p. 122 123,124
Within New Orleans, string bands flourished in the late nineteenth century, and well into the twentieth. Samuel Charters lists several in his index of African-American New Orleans musicians, making the point that many of the formal brass bands also had counterpart string orchestras that furnished music for ”dances in the smaller halls.”
(…)
Generally jazz historians have placed emphasis on the brass-band tradition because of the obvious instrumental links with early jazz bands, but since many of the same musicians were playing in string groups, tackling a similar repertoire, and belonging to a more widespread Southern tradition among African-Americans, string bands were every bit as significant as their louder, brassier counterpart.
(…)
New Orleans string groups, extant before the turn of the century, include the Big Four, the Excelsior, the Tio and Doublet (or Dublais) Orchestra, and the Union String Band.
(…)
Portrait of Lorenzo Tio Sr. 1894 - Courtesy of Rose Tio Winn - Kinzer, Charles E. “The Tios of New Orleans and Their Pedagogical Influence on the Early Jazz Clarinet Style.” Black Music Research Journal 16, no. 2 (1996) Source
By 1911, the white ensemble known as the Six and Seven Eighths Band was in existence (a group 
which recorded into the 1940s), and there was an informal tradition of string groups perpetuated by young musicians who grew up in the early years of the twentieth century.
(…)
The 6 & 7/8s Stringband of New Orleans (1949?): Bill Kleppinger (mandolin), Bernie Shields (slide guitar), Frank 'Red' Mackie (string bass), Edmond 'Doc' Souchon (Guitar/Vocal/Piano) - not shown: Rene Gelpi (Banjo) and Charlie Hardy (Ukulele) Photo by Rick Mackie, courtesy of Tulane University Archives Source
By 1911, the white ensemble known as the Six and Seven Eighths Band was in existence (a group which recorded into the 1940s), and there was an informal tradition of string groups perpetuated by young musicians who grew up in the early years of the twentieth century.
(…)
Both Danny Barker and ”Cousin Joe” Pleasant (born in 1909 and 1907 respectively) recall playing in a New Orleans children’s string band called the Boozan Kings, which existed into the early 1920s.
Alyn Shipton, A New History of Jazz, Continuum, 2001, p. 29
(l to r) Joseph “Cousin Joe” Pleasant with Danny Barker - Published by New Orleans Jazz Club and New Orleans Jazz Museum (Louisiana State Museum) Accession Number
1978.118(B).02454 Source