Not in New Orleans, But Listening to This

I would like to inform you that if you are in New Orleans right now, I think you suck. Anyway, here’s a blog post that is just my playlist tonight — which would be an utterly pedestrian and slightly drippy night in Palo Alto. One re-evaluates one’s life choices.

Can’t get away without this one.

Did I ever tell you about the time I was buying lip gloss in a Bangkok convenience store, and I was hot and tired and didn’t know what I was doing with my life, and I plunked down my baht on the counter and suddenly there’s this song playing?

There was no great epiphany but it was a moment.

This is a very alligators-and-doing bad things song. As one is supposed to be doing when living a full and complete and joyful life.

I believe this is the only Iko Iko rendition allowed by civilized humans.

If I left Big Freedia out of this, you’d be allowed to viciously beat me with a crawfish made of foam.

Puppets and a drum machine. All you need.

Hot 8 Brass Band would like to assist you with your sexual healing.

If you were in New Orleans in 2010 and have a memory, this song will evoke strange memories of champagne, screaming, and quite possibly, lighting a car or two on fire.

Explaining Mardi Gras Indians to the un-enlightened is another problem. This is because the general public knows not how to live.

Speaking of: Super Sunday in 2013. If you think the US has no native culture, I’m afraid you have just been misled by strip malls and the tender ministrations of Ross Douthat. Come into the light, slowly.

Really just all boils down to this:

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