All Kindsa Music Mag

By Brendan Casey

Certain rhythm & blues songs from the late 50s and early 60s just have that sound to ‘em. You, know, that sound. 

Wide open, reverberating, big horn section, huge voices, loud, full of bottled-up energy.

From this golden era of music, New Orleans had that sound (and definitely still does).

New Orleans this time of year is full of that bottled-up energy that the music emulates. With every day that goes by, Carnival season ramps up, and more and more parades and Mardi-gras balls pop up every day, leading to Fat Tuesday.

When I was a kid, my old man split and moved to New Orleans – Metairie to be exact – in either 2005 or 2006 (you think I’d know). Despite whatever complications and bad feelings came with it all (I was a kid and didn’t necessarily “get it”), the first time he came back, he had bags and bags and bags full of Mardi Gras beads and other various Carnival paraphernalia. Even today if you open up one of those purple, green, and gold zipper bags and take a deep whiff, the smell will send you straight to fucking Canal Street on Fat Tuesday.

Knowing my Dad was down there (and that he rode in Endymion in 2007, one of his many claims to fame that means absolutely nothing to 99% of people but means everything to the folks in Louisiana), as a young kid I really grew a strong connection to New Orleans. I wore a gator tooth around my neck that he brought back for me, we ate beignets, his friend would ship us a King Cake from Haydell’s every year, the Saints became my second favorite football team (behind the Giants, obviously). Shit, we eat Popeye’s and Crawfish for Christmas Eve. Stories he told about the city rising up from the flood post-Katrina, the parades, the balls, the hot sticky weather, the food, and all about what life was like down there – I soaked it up like a sponge.

I loved New Orleans so much, and had never even been there – still haven’t, (we literally had a flight booked the week the COVID shutdown happened, hardest decision of my life not to go – but New Orleans really did get hit by it hard…the tickets expire in 2023 now so you can bet I’m going) But shit, I knew what it meant to miss New Orleans, and never even met her in person.

Along with this affection for the city, came the love of the sounds from it – especially those during Mardi Gras. If one song has that feeling I was talking about, it’s “Carnival Time” by Al Johnson. I hold it near and dear to my heart.

You cannot and I mean cannot, listen to that damn song and feel that rhythm and hear that big bright sound and tell me you don’t want to be down in the Big Easy drinking an Abita and eating some gumbo.

“BA NA-NA-NA-NA-NA  BA NA-NA-NA-NA-NA  BA NA-NA-NA-NA-NA-NA”

Those massive horns in the intro hit you right in the nose like a coconut thrown at the Zulu parade.

Johnson sings…and man can he sing!

“The Green Room is smokin’ and the Plaza’s burnin’ down, throw my baby out the window, let those joints burn down – all because it’s – Carnival Time”. THAT’S masterful imagery in storytelling and songwriting.

There’s a great feature piece from 2009 on myneworleans.com with Al Johnson himself, in which he explains ““Back in the [19]50s there were two clubs right by each other on Orleans Avenue at North Claiborne, where the upramp is today,” Johnson explains. “We used to go there. Tony’s Green Room and Joe Prop’s Plaza. They used to be jumping and hot. One was smoking and …well, I wasn’t going to let my baby burn up, so I got her out the window. Ya see what I’m saying?”

Sure. When the action’s too hot, you get your baby out and make sure you stick real close to her, right? “That’s right,” smiles Johnson.”

Golden Era for music, I’m tellin’ ya.

Feel the music. Listen to that bass. Listen to those drums. It’s exactly something you’d hear a tuba whomping away at and a drummer ripping in a second-line down in the Crescent City. That’s musical and cultural influence in its purest form – and what a beautiful thing it is.

I always loved the electric guitar on the track, recorded by a guy named Justin Adams, a studio guitarist who played on everything from Professor Longhair to Allen Toussaint to Huey “Piano” Smith – the best of New Orleans music. The voicings that he plays high up the neck of his guitar almost remind me of a banjolele, a small-scale banjo/ukulele hybrid instrument that could be found in early 20th century Dixieland/New Orleans jazz bands.

One of my favorite things about “Carnival Time” is the piano. Although it’s sort of lost in the mix behind the blaring horns and the reverb, you can hear it’s boogie-woogie sound and how crucial it is to the feel of the tune. Though the band assembled for the track recorded many takes over 1959 with Al Johnson himself at the keys, in the released 1960 version, “Carnival Time” as we know it today, featured a 19-year-old Mac Rebbenack at the piano bench – who you may know as Dr. John, an absolute king of New Orleans music.

Let’s hear that chorus.

“All because it’s Carnival Time, Woah it’s Carnival Time, Oh well it’s Carnival Time and everybody’s having fun”.

It really doesn’t get any better than that – but you may be wondering, why did Johnson sing “Carnival Time”, and not “Mardi Gras Time”?

“My folks used to always say ‘Carnival’ instead of Mardi Gras,” says Johnson in the myneworleans.com article. “I felt the song would fit right in with ‘Mardi Gras Mambo’” – a song sung by Art Neville with his band The Hawkettes in 1954 (Neville was a musical giant in New Orleans for decades, founding The Meters, and of course, is one of The Neville Brothers).

“Claiborne Street is a-rockin, From-a one side to the other, The joints are jammin’ packin, and I’m about to smother”.

Johnson really puts you right there in the historic Tremé neighborhood of the city, where “Carnival Time” takes place. Tremé was and is a diverse area of the city, and is one of the oldest free black neighborhoods in American history. Culturally, it was and still is such a powerful place for African-Americans.

Imagine being down there in 1960 during Mardi Gras, with all the people and music pouring out of the clubs right onto the streets. That’s what “Carnival Time” is about. The ripping saxophone solo (possibly by the great Lee Allen) that comes in at a thousand miles per hour is like something you could’ve heard down on Claiborne and Orleans. That style of playing, as you can hear, had a direct influence on the sax playing of early rock & roll music. Go listen to Clarence Clemons, Bobby Keys or even King Curtis. You’ll hear where they got it from.

The third verse goes a little like this:

“Well, if you put your nickel, Well I put a dime down, We can get together now, and drink us some wine”.

Odds are that Al Johnson – being a New Orleans native – was familiar with the hit single “Drinkin’ Wine Spo-Dee-O-Dee” recorded in 1949 for Atlantic by “Sticks” McGhee, (featuring his brother on guitar, folk/blues great Brownie McGhee), which not only contains the lyrics “Down in New Orleans where everything is fine”, but also the lines “I’ve got a nickel, have you got a dime, let’s get together and get a little wine”. 

Definitely some major influence there. The beauty of music.

While Johnson’s “Carnival Time” was released in 1960 by Ric Records (the sister label to Ron Records), it wasn’t an immediate hit as it was overshadowed by Jessie Hill’s “Ooh Poo Pah Doo” (Rufus Thomas did a killer version of the tune). 

Soon after the release of the song, Johnson was drafted into the Army and shipped off to Fort Bliss in Texas. It wasn’t until he came home to New Orleans four years later did he find the song was a big local hit, and that the owner of the Ric Records, Joe Ruffino, had died and while Johnson was gone, there was a legal battle for the rights to his music that basically left him with no rights or money from “Carnival Time” and his other records.

Just another classic, corrupt music industry story!

While the song grew in popularity over the next couple of decades, Johnson was getting nothing from it. In the following years, according to the myneworleans.com article, he lived in the Lower 9th Ward and worked as a cab driver during the day – until finally, in 1999, a legal battle finally gave him the rights to “Carnival Time”.

Since its release in 1960, “Carnival Time” has cemented itself in music history as a New Orleans R & B classic, and as one of the most requested songs during Mardi Gras season in New Orleans. 

“Carnival Time” has this positive, party feeling full of happiness that really makes you want to get down. Even if you don’t celebrate Mardi Gras, or aren’t living in New Orleans or Mobile or anywhere with a big Mardi Gras celebration, you can listen to it and hear and feel exactly what the folks down there are feeling. And regardless of Mardi Gras, if you’re up North, “Carnival Time” has that upbeat nature that can propel you right through the February blues and into the beautiful rebirth of early spring. 

“Carnival Time” has got that sound.