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this post has a festival acadiens soundtrack.

the original version, performed by mr. belton richard.

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i escaped my life for a few hours to head over to lafayette for the festival acadiens. i actually passed lafayette on the way there. you’d think lafayette would be somewhat noticeable from the freeway, but it’s just a few exits. nothing screams out ‘lafayette’ at all. i kept waiting for the real town to appear and quickly realized that that was it, what i just passed, back by the truckstop. i was also in a complete state of intoxication over the new pornographers’ wistful four minute masterpiece ‘adventures in solitude’. yes, yes. that bridge/coda thing at the end is yet another brick in my ‘neko case is a helluva broad’ wall i’m building in my mind.

once lost and now found.

lafayette proved to be a cute little town that everyone would love to live in. the festival is in a park near the university. it’s kind of like topanga days, yet not quite as big and with much more accordion.

[Show as slideshow]

geno delafose & french rockin’ boogie will, in fact, cure what ails you. i’ve had two experiences with bassists since i got down here that can only be described as otherworldly. the first was michael foster, on sousaphone. the cat from this band was the other. have mercy. i got sucked in hard. a few people asked me where my dance partner was (these cajuns dance, people. no wallflowers. come on y’all …) and i told them i was dancing with the bass player. i really was …

it wasn’t all roses during their set, however. for quite awhile this tall cat standing next to me kept staring down in my direction while singing into his fist as if it were a microphone. just one of those dipshit guys who has to make the whole experience about him in some way, but he was so creepy that i couldn’t tell if he was retarded or drunk or some sordid combination. he barely registered on my radar for a long spell, but all at once i got this overwhelming urge to punch him as hard as i could in the face. strange …

it was also hard to find out what the songs were called since they were all in french. i asked a lady for the name of a particularly lovely one (one that you might still be hearing now depending on how fast you read) and she said something, and i looked back blankly, and she laughed and said ‘another night of crying.’ great title. great song. written, i later found out, by neil sedaka.

some afternoons, this world is infinite.

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