More on Brian
I received this today from my friend and fellow Arabi Wrecking Krewe-er Bill. He did a very nice job putting everything down in words.
Another Loss for the Crescent City
H. W. Phillips
Sprays of flowers formed the back drop as Mark Mullins, Bert Cotton and the other members of Bonerama performed a rock and roll eulogy. Big Luther Kent wept in one corner; George Porter bowed his head in another, both were part of an overflow crowd that included many of the preeminent musicians in New Orleans. They were there to pay their respects to Brian O’Neil, a gifted musician, songwriter and arranger, and by all accounts, an even better friend.
The music didn’t stop after the tribute from Bonerama. Singing without a microphone and with only an acoustic guitar, Deacon John transfixed the crowd with a haunting version of Any Day Now. David Torkanowsky displayed his chops on the organ as he accompanied Topsy Chapman who sang a spirited rendition of the gospel standard Gloryland, which had many in the crowd clapping in time and singing along. Following the indoor musical tribute, players from the Dukes of Dixieland and the Storyville Stompers joined with Kirk Joseph and Brian’s mates from Bonerama to march down St. Charles in a brief but spirited second line that struck just the right note on a brilliant blue, crisp December day. The parade concluded with Wesley of the Storyville Stompers, who represents the elegant apotheosis of New Orleans grand marshals, leading a spirited sing along of Didn’t He Ramble, the traditional last song at a jazz funeral replete with memories of past adventures.
Rick Trolsen, a neighbor and former band mate of Brian’s, lauded his friend’s zest for life and many accomplishments. “From the late eighties to the early nineties he was the musical director on several riverboats, where he was in charge of a band of colorful pirates. He had to write shows and produce them and that’s a big job, but like everything he did, he gave it one hundred and fifty percent. He had a talent at smoothing things over, particularly musically, and getting guys to work together.” Rick, who helped found Bonerama, but then left the band to pursue other musical interests, will be filling in for Brian for the immediate future, a future which is becoming increasingly busy as the band grows both musically and in popularity. Rick will not be playing the bass trombone, however, which Brian played in the group which normally features four trombones and sometimes as many as five. “It is going to be almost impossible to replace Brian’s sound. Other than Bonerama, he was used to playing and soloing on the tenor trombone” (the commonly used instrument so prevalent it is usually not necessary to identify its range) “and he transferred those skills to the bass trombone. Not many other bass trombonists have that skill.”
Bonerama performed their first show since Brian’s passing at the grand reopening of the House of Blues on the Wednesday after Christmas. The NBC national news did a piece on the opening featuring Fred Leblanc, front man for Cowboy Mouth, the headline group. But many in the crowd came to see Bonerama, and for the first number they were treated to a ten minute version of Edgar Winter’s Frankenstein with Bert Cotton playing a feedback drenched solo that showed he is tossing his hat into the ring for the now far flung New Orleans guitar heroes. (Bring them all home!) Mark Mullins unleashed a new showstopper with a version of Professor Longhair’s classic Hey Now, Baby, which many years ago had been appropriated by the Meters and renamed Cabbage Alley. Bonerama’s version leans on the Meters reincarnation which allowed for interesting musical spaces and inspired soloing that seemed to reference Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew. The highlight of the evening was the band’s performance of Bone Up, one of Brian’s compositions, which has an infectious sixties James Brown sound that highlighted Brian’s R&B roots, honed, no doubt, during the many years he spent playing with Wayne Cochran and Luther Kent.
Brian was an accomplished pianist and fine singer, and he had a heart attack while performing at a solo gig. He was only fifty years old. Mark Mullins said, “He had such a great voice and that was one of the things we wanted to take more advantage of. I think his untimely death has made everybody think of all the things we didn’t get to do.”
The pristine weather and splendid music on the day of the funeral inspired Bert Cotton to tell his girlfriend, “Things like this don’t happen everywhere.” Later he elaborated on that point. “I think everybody in the band looked to Brian to tell us if something wasn’t right with our playing or anything else. He had the maturity and the musicianship to help us make sure we kept it going. And we are going to miss him on a number of different levels. But his funeral was such a celebration of life; it’s helped me a lot. I think it has given us all the strength to get where we are going without him. But he will always be a part of this band.”
I received this today from my friend and fellow Arabi Wrecking Krewe-er Bill. He did a very nice job putting everything down in words.
Another Loss for the Crescent City
H. W. Phillips
Sprays of flowers formed the back drop as Mark Mullins, Bert Cotton and the other members of Bonerama performed a rock and roll eulogy. Big Luther Kent wept in one corner; George Porter bowed his head in another, both were part of an overflow crowd that included many of the preeminent musicians in New Orleans. They were there to pay their respects to Brian O’Neil, a gifted musician, songwriter and arranger, and by all accounts, an even better friend.
The music didn’t stop after the tribute from Bonerama. Singing without a microphone and with only an acoustic guitar, Deacon John transfixed the crowd with a haunting version of Any Day Now. David Torkanowsky displayed his chops on the organ as he accompanied Topsy Chapman who sang a spirited rendition of the gospel standard Gloryland, which had many in the crowd clapping in time and singing along. Following the indoor musical tribute, players from the Dukes of Dixieland and the Storyville Stompers joined with Kirk Joseph and Brian’s mates from Bonerama to march down St. Charles in a brief but spirited second line that struck just the right note on a brilliant blue, crisp December day. The parade concluded with Wesley of the Storyville Stompers, who represents the elegant apotheosis of New Orleans grand marshals, leading a spirited sing along of Didn’t He Ramble, the traditional last song at a jazz funeral replete with memories of past adventures.
Rick Trolsen, a neighbor and former band mate of Brian’s, lauded his friend’s zest for life and many accomplishments. “From the late eighties to the early nineties he was the musical director on several riverboats, where he was in charge of a band of colorful pirates. He had to write shows and produce them and that’s a big job, but like everything he did, he gave it one hundred and fifty percent. He had a talent at smoothing things over, particularly musically, and getting guys to work together.” Rick, who helped found Bonerama, but then left the band to pursue other musical interests, will be filling in for Brian for the immediate future, a future which is becoming increasingly busy as the band grows both musically and in popularity. Rick will not be playing the bass trombone, however, which Brian played in the group which normally features four trombones and sometimes as many as five. “It is going to be almost impossible to replace Brian’s sound. Other than Bonerama, he was used to playing and soloing on the tenor trombone” (the commonly used instrument so prevalent it is usually not necessary to identify its range) “and he transferred those skills to the bass trombone. Not many other bass trombonists have that skill.”
Bonerama performed their first show since Brian’s passing at the grand reopening of the House of Blues on the Wednesday after Christmas. The NBC national news did a piece on the opening featuring Fred Leblanc, front man for Cowboy Mouth, the headline group. But many in the crowd came to see Bonerama, and for the first number they were treated to a ten minute version of Edgar Winter’s Frankenstein with Bert Cotton playing a feedback drenched solo that showed he is tossing his hat into the ring for the now far flung New Orleans guitar heroes. (Bring them all home!) Mark Mullins unleashed a new showstopper with a version of Professor Longhair’s classic Hey Now, Baby, which many years ago had been appropriated by the Meters and renamed Cabbage Alley. Bonerama’s version leans on the Meters reincarnation which allowed for interesting musical spaces and inspired soloing that seemed to reference Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew. The highlight of the evening was the band’s performance of Bone Up, one of Brian’s compositions, which has an infectious sixties James Brown sound that highlighted Brian’s R&B roots, honed, no doubt, during the many years he spent playing with Wayne Cochran and Luther Kent.
Brian was an accomplished pianist and fine singer, and he had a heart attack while performing at a solo gig. He was only fifty years old. Mark Mullins said, “He had such a great voice and that was one of the things we wanted to take more advantage of. I think his untimely death has made everybody think of all the things we didn’t get to do.”
The pristine weather and splendid music on the day of the funeral inspired Bert Cotton to tell his girlfriend, “Things like this don’t happen everywhere.” Later he elaborated on that point. “I think everybody in the band looked to Brian to tell us if something wasn’t right with our playing or anything else. He had the maturity and the musicianship to help us make sure we kept it going. And we are going to miss him on a number of different levels. But his funeral was such a celebration of life; it’s helped me a lot. I think it has given us all the strength to get where we are going without him. But he will always be a part of this band.”
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