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…is in the middle of a club called Carrolton Station. Place just has that otherworldly rock-club vibe about it, a place that everybody doesn't know about; half the cab drivers in town can't even find it. Stand in the middle and you're facing a wood-carved stage that looks like an old meeting house, and a painted sign that explains the rules of the "chicken drop" (you don't want to know). But I always think of that little space when I think of ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />New Orleans, you can just sense the echoes of all the music that's been made there. They mix the drinks very strong, this year they gave me three beers when I'd ordered one. Last year I won $100 on the video poker machine. My first introduction to the place was around 15 years ago, when I wandered in from the other club (Jimmy's) next door, and found the stage occupied by the Pfister Sisters—three jazzwomen who look and sound like they were beamed in from the 20's. Thought it was a mirage and half-expected to find the rest of the city transported to 75 years ago when I walked out.
Seems I've only ever seen bands I love there—my longtime faves the Continental Drifters were the house band for a long while. It would traditionally be the last stop on my annual Jazzfest visit, I would make a point of going home sleep-deprived with my ears still ringing. One year Marlene and I waltzed in the courtyard while Susan Cowsill sang Donovan's "Catch the Wind". This year I made it twice, for Dash Rip Rock and then for Susan again. Her set turned into a Springsteen hootenanny and included Paul Sanchez doing the best (only!) cover of "Racing in the Street" I've yet heard. Susan herself turned "Girls in their Summer Clothes" into the 60's pop outpouring it needs to be. The night before, Dash managed to outlast me by staying onstage for two and a half hours—but while I was outside catching a taxi, I heard them say "the rock critic's gone, we can play all our covers now!" Nearly made me dump the taxi and stay another hour, but when I heard their hardcore-slamdance version of "Jambalaya" I knew I'd heard everything I'd come for.