"Bon Ton Roula" - Clarence Garlow

While leaving the arena of Cajun music briefly, we can't ignore it's influence on another genre of music: Zydeco. While some can debate it's origins for years, many can agree it falls in line with the same similar origins of Cajun music.   Determining the first zydeco recording can be difficult, with as many opinions as there are artists.  Was it Clifton Chenier in 1955? How about Boozoo Chavis in 1954?   Was it Amede Ardoin in 1929?   One can make a strong case for either of these artists.  Yet, researchers and authors point to a briefly popular R&B musician in the late 1940s named Clarence Garlow.

You see me there, well I ain't no fool,

I'm one smart Frenchman never been to school,

Wanna get somewhere in a Creole town,

You stop and let me show you your way 'round,

You let the bon ton roula, you let the mule-ay pull-ay,

Now don't you be no fool-ay, you let the bon ton roula.

At the church ba-zar or the baseball game,

At the French la-la, it’s all the same,

Want to have fun now you got go,

Way out in the country to the zydeco.

Clarence Garlow

The song was an original 1949 Macy's recording "Bon Ton Roola" (#5002) considered the first zydeco recording by some.  Garlow recalls:

I happened to be coming through the town of Houston and stopped at he Coconut Grove. They had a band and I asked the guy if I could sit in.  I did and they must have liked it.  They called Macy Henry and Steve Poncio to come listen and they came over.  I didn't think I was good enough but they thought differently.  [Bon Ton Roula] was born in the studio when we was trying to find something to record. It caught like a shot in the arm and the crowds got bigger.

Garlow’s band stopped momentarily when he sang the line about zydeco, making it seem to hang suspended in time. Listening to it today evokes a dramatic sense of Louisiana music history in the making. Clarence Garlow brought critical mass to the word zydeco, but not to the music per se. Garlow’s forté was mainstream African-American rhythm and blues. His singing — in English, French, and “Franglais” — blended passion with sly street smarts, and his expert guitar work recalled the style of T-Bone Walker.5

It was a glorious cut that sounded rather more like an R&B garage band with a Mardi Gras beat than a full-baked zydeco performance.   Others consider it a "proto-Zydeco" recording in which other's after him had modernized and popularized into actual zydeco music.2  His band consisted of Clarence Garlow on vocals & guitar, Shelby Lackey on alto sax, Wilmer Shakesnider on tenor sax, Johnnie Mae Brown on piano, probably L.D. "Eldeen" Mackintosh on bass, and Johnny Marshall on drums.


By 1953, Macy's label had collapsed and he had made a deal with J.D. Miller to record a different version of the tune, calling it the "New Bon Ton Roola" (#1000).  Mysteriously, Miller re-used this catalog number for reasons unknown, however, given he'd record Clarence again using his 3000 series, there's a good chance this record listing should have been #3000.  Eddie Mesner of Alladin Records, heard about his performance in Beaumont and asked him if he was signed with anyone. Garlow eventually signed with Aladdin Records and re-record it a third time, spelled "New Bon-Ton Roulay" that same year with the Maxwell Davis Orchestra.  The Messner brothers even released it on their own distinctive label called "Roula". He was so known for this song, it became his nickname.

The sound is so vastly different from the Cajun music of it's era, it's a struggle to find a way to veer off into this record's article and maintain the connection to the commonly accepted sound of Cajun music. Regardless of the debate on it's origins, not long afterwards, pioneers of the genre like Clifton Chenier and BooZoo Chavis combined more traditional sounds with new rhythm and blues elements, creating a new style of music.  By 1957, he'd try once more with Eddie Shuler's Goldband but the song's success had died out, until 1967, when Clifton would cover Clarence's song.

1. "South To Louisiana: The Music of the Cajun Bayous" by John Broven
2. Music USA: The Rough Guide By Richie Unterberger
3. http://home.comcast.net/~cajunzydeco/zydemagic/whatiszydecomusic.htm
4. http://americanamusictriangle.com/timelines/cajun-zydeco/
5. http://blog.ponderosastomp.com/2015/09/if-you-cant-dance-to-zydeco-you-cant-dance-period/

Find:
Clarence "Bon Ton" Garlow ‎– 1951-58 (Flyright, 1983)
Louisiana Stomp-Clifton Chenier With Clarence Garlow (JSP, 2009)
Queen of Hits: The Macy's Recordings Story (Acrobat, 2011)

"Allons Danser Colinda" - Happy, Doc And The Hadacol Boys

Known as the first recording producer to create a label dedicated to Cajun music, in 1946, J. D. Miller started his Fais Do Do record label and began recording his first set of artists: Leroy "Happy Fats" Leblanc on vocals and guitar and Oran "Doc" Guidry on fiddle. 

Allons danser, Colinda,

Allons danser, Colinda,

Allons danser, Colinda,

Pour faire fâché les vieilles femmes.

Allons danser, Colinda,

Allons danser, Colinda,

Pendant ta mère est pas là,

Pour faire fâché les vieilles femmes.

C'est pas tout le monde qui peut danser,

Tous les vieilles valses des vieux temps,

Pour faire fâché les vieilles femmes,

Allons danser, Colinda.

J.D. recalls the event:

I got checking around and found out that Cosimo Matassa had a studio in New Orleans, so I called him, made arrangements, and picked up Happy Fats and Doc Guidry.  The first record was "Allons Danse Colinda"--we called it "Colinda".1

The first Fais Do Do release, "Allons Dancer Colinda" (#1001) by Happy, Doc and the Boys, sold only moderately, but Happy Fats remembers the record (derived from the Calinda voodoo dance brought to Louisiana by Negro slaves from Haiti, San Domingo, and the West Indies) with affection. The well-known song is about a Cajun boy asking a girl named Colinda to do a risqué dance with him.  

Cosimo Matassa

 According to Happy:

We took the name from a song called "Danse Colinda".  We got it from a book in a library at Southwestern University, Lafayette.  Actually, it was a Haitian song, so we just took the name, the tune is not the same, or the lyric.  Doc Guidry and I just sat down and we wrote a French song, a two- or three- chord song that is pretty easy to write.  Our recording never did make much of an impression, but I've been collecting royalties on it ever since Jimmie Davis recorded it in 1949.1

Happy Fats may not have realized it, but, Doc's melody came from a much older song which influenced Dennis McGee's "Madame Young" back in the 1920s. Later, when interviewed by Shane Bernard, Doc Guidry testifies they created neither:

It was a mistake when they put "Words and music by Happy and Doc".3

Calinda (Kalinda) is also a martial art, as well as kind of folk music and dance in the Caribbean which arose in the 1720s. Calinda is the French spelling, and the Spanish equivalent is calenda; it is a kind of stick-fighting commonly seen practiced during Carnival in Trinidad and Tobago. There, Carnival songs are considered to be derived from calinda chants and "lavways".

Calinda is also one name assigned to an Afro-Caribbean form of stick fighting as practiced in Haiti and entering the United States through the port city of New Orleans. It is also practiced in other parts of the Caribbean, such as Martinique. Considered indecent by the respectable portion of the population, it was officially banned throughout the State in 1843, but continued to be performed for many years afterward.2

An early version of the Calinda was danced only by men, stripped to the waist and brandishing sticks in a mock fight while at the same time balancing upon their heads bottles of water. As soon as a dancer spilled a drop of his water he was banished from the field. Later the Calinda degenerated into a thoroughly lascivious performance.

Let's go dancing, Colinda,

Let's go dancing, Colinda,

Let's go dancing, Colinda,

To make the old women angry.

Let's go dancing, Colinda,

Let's go dancing, Colinda,

While your mother's not around,

Make the old women angry.

Not everyone knows how to dance to them,

Old waltzes of long ago,

Make the old women angry,

Let's go dancing, Colinda.

The Fais Do Do label 78s are now very rare since in the late sixties, Jay Miller offered his entire stock to a local fair for use as sideshow shooting targets.1

1. South to Louisiana: The Music of the Cajun Bayous By John Broven
2. http://www.frenchcreoles.com/ArtTheater/CalindaDance/calindadance.htm
3. Swamp Pop: Cajun and Creole Rhythm and Blues By Shane K. Bernard

Find:
Fais Do Do Breakdown - Volume One - The Late 1940's (Flyright, 1986)
Acadian All Star Special - The Pioneering Cajun Recordings Of J.D. Miller (Bear, 2011)

"Beaumont Waltz" - Harry Choates

In the spring of 1951, Harry Choates was struggling to make payments and alcoholism was taking it's toll.  He was already getting banned from some places but still was recording and many of his former musicians bailed.   Familiar with the recording scene throughout Texas and after re-connecting with his good Virgil Bozman, together they set out to San Antonio to record again.

Hé, petite, tu m’as laissé pour t’en aller,

Hé, chérie mais, mais, quoi t’as fait avec ton pauv’ vieux nég,

Oh, meon, quoi t’as fait, ça a pas fait bien,

Oh mais, moi j'connais, mais, ca ta fais ton pauv’ vieux nég.

Hé, meon, oh, moi j'connais,

Hé qui t'en me quand t’as fais ton pauv’ vieux nég, 

Hé, chérie, oh, mais, moi j'connais,

Oh, mais, moi j'connais t’as pas fais bien, ton pauv’ vieux nég.

Hé, ha ha, hé, chérie, 

Hé petite, quoi t’as fais ton pauv' vieux chien.

Virgil Bozman, who had gave up on his O.T. label, left Lake Charles and headed to meet with Bob Tanner, who had started his T.N.T. and Hot Rod label earlier.  Together, they either decided to create their own label called Allied or partially lease the name from the much larger Allied Recording Company.  Either way, Bob and Virgil had Choates show up to the KCOR radio station in San Antonio and record four tunes, one of them being the "Beaumont Waltz" (#103).  The session would kick off Tanner's short lived Allied label.

Hey, little one, you left me to go away,

Hey, dear, well, what did you do to your old man,

Oh, cutie, what you did wasn't good,

Oh, well I know, well, what you did to your poor old man.

Hey cutie, oh, I know,

Hey, who were you with when you did that to your poor old man,

Hey, dear, oh well, I know,

Oh, well, I know, you didn't treat well your poor old man.

Hey, haha, hey, dear,

Hey, little one, whatever did you do to your poor old man.

Lucky Ford

This time, Harry was working with a slew of new musicians including guitarist Lucky Ford, the vocalist for the Texas based band Jimmy Revard & His Oklahoma Playboys.  Lucky would go on to play with Jimmie Rivers & Vance Terry.  Anther would be steel guitarist Lloyd Hazelbaker who also played with Revard.   Junior Keelan stayed with him as his bass player.  According to Link Davis' wife, Doris Meadows:

Choates was the kind of guy, he worked and make money ,then wouldn't work anymore 'till he spent his money.

Bob's radio station recording studio and pressing plant couldn't match the sound quality Choates was used to having at Bill Holford's ACA studio when he was recording for Macy Henry the previous year.  However, this session is believed to be his last.   Under strange circumstances, he was jailed for late payments and died in a jail cell, believed to be either due to physical trauma and/or his alcoholism.

1. South to Louisiana: The Music of the Cajun Bayous By John Broven
2. Dance Halls and Last Calls: A History of Texas Country Music By Geronimo Trevino III
3. All over the map: true heroes of Texas music by Michael Corcoran
4. http://www.rockabilly.nl/artists/linkdavis.htm
5. Lyrics by Stephane F

Find:
Harry Choates: Five-Time Loser 1940-1951 (Krazy Kat, 1990)
Harry Choates: Cajun Fiddle King (Aim, 1999)
Top 45 Classics: The Very Best Of Harry Choates (GRR Music, 2014)

"Ouvrez Grand Ma Fenêtre (Raise My Window High)" - Cleoma Breaux

One of Cleoma Breaux's most well known recordings of the blues.   For those interested in French blues recordings, this one is a must.  The record of "Ouvrez Grand Ma Fenêtre" (#17001) is the second release in a slew of Cajun pressings by Decca in New York, also referred to as "Leve Tes Fenetres Haut" or "Raise Your Window High").  Their December 1934 session kicked off Decca's entire Cajun repertoire for the next five years. 

Si tu me vois après venir, lève tes fenêtres haut,

Quand tu vois moi venir, lève tes fenêtres haut,

Quand tu vas m’voir partir, baisse ta tête et pleurer.

Je m’ai soulé hier au soir, je m’ai soulé le soir d’avant,

Je m’ai soulé hier au soir, je m’ai soulé le soir d’avant,

J’va me souler à soir, pis moi j’veux plus jamais de ma vie.

J’suis après travailler, une piastre dix sous par jour,

J’suis après travailler, une piastre dix sous par jour,

Ma femme prend la piastre et moi pour faire avec dix sous.

Si toi tu me veux pas, donne moi ta main droite,

Parce qu’si toi tu me veux pas, donne moi ta main droite,

Parce qu’si toi tu me veux pas pas, moi j’suis sûr(*), moi j’veux pas de toi.

It's a French version of a swingy, bluesy song in the style of Jimmie Rodgers' "Anniversary Blue Yodel (Blue Yodel No. 7)" that most likely has an older origin.  She would later record an English version of the melody for Bluebird two years later entitled "Raise Your Window".  Even the lyrics between the two versions changed.  In this version, she talks about getting drunk like never before, working for money that get's shared unequally, and wanting to get married. Songs, like this 12-bar blues and similar others, would eventually influence Iry Lejeune's "Grand Bosco" and Happy Fats' "Blues de Bosco".

Daily Advertiser
Oct 25, 1935

If you see me coming, raise your windows high,

When you see me coming, raise your windows high,

When you leave my sight, hang your head and cry.

I got drunk last night, I got drunk the night before,

I got drunk last night, I got drunk the night before,

I'll get my self drunk tonight until I'll want to never again in my life. 

I'm back from work, a dollar and a dime per day,

I'm back from work, a dollar and a dime per day,

My wife takes the dollar and I'm left with the dime.

If you do not want me, give me your right hand,

Because if you do not want me, give me your right hand,

Because if you do not want me, myself, I'm sure I do not want you. 

1. Lyrics by Stephane F

Find:
Cajun Early Recordings (JSP, 2004)

"J'vai Jouer Celea Pour Toi (I'll Play This For You)" - Bixy Guidry & Percy Babineaux

It's the original "J'Ai Ete au Bal".    Along with John Bertrand and Milton Pitre's "The Rabbit Stole The Pumpkin" recording for Paramount in Chicago, these two songs influenced several tunes throughout Cajun music for time to come. 

The instrumental, "J'vai Jouer Celea Pour Toi (I'll Play This For You)", was recorded during a RCA Victor session in New Orleans in 1929 (#22210).  Adolph "Bixy" Guidry and Percy Babineaux, an accordion-fiddle duo, cut eight sides in one session for the Victor company.  In some listings, he's known as "Dixie" Guidry.  According to Nathan Salsburg, curator of the Alan Lomax Archive: 

Inauspiciously issued in the second year of the Depression, their first releases sold poorly. Surviving copies—to say nothing of surviving playable copies—are laughably scarce.  They show Guidry and Babineaux to be an intoxicatingly loose and ragged pair, Bixy's accordion sighing mournfully behind Percy’s keening fiddle. 

It's origins are much older.  According to Raymond Francois says he believe it is related to the songs "Oh Susannah" and "Get Along Cindy".1  In 1934, Joe Falcon and Cleoma Breaux use the melody for their Decca recording of "Ne Buvez Plus Jamais".  This original melody may have also influenced Lawrence Walker's "Jolie (Johnny) Can't Dance".   However, it's most dominant influence can be found in Iry Lejeune's 1954 recording of "I Went To The Dance" for Eddie Shuler's Goldband Records in Lake Charles. 

1. Ye Yaille Chere, Traditional Cajun Dance Music by Raymond E. François
2. https://roothogordie.wordpress.com/2013/10/06/let-me-play-this-for-you/

Find:
Le Gran Mamou: A Cajun Music Anthology - The Historic Victor–Bluebird Sessions 1928–1941 Vol. 1 (Country Music Foundation, 1990)
Cajun Country, Vol. 2, More Hits from the Swamp (JSP, 2005)
Let Me Play This For You : Rare Cajun Recordings (Tompkins Square, 2013)

"Pleur Plus' (Don't Cry)" - Columbus Fruge

Columbus Fruge (or Frugé) was from Arnaudville, Louisiana, a town in the St. Landry and St. Martin parishes in south-central portion of the state.  Virtually no details of his life exist, other than the fact that he began playing accordion as a child and was performing around his hometown by the age of eleven. 

Hé, yaille! chère 'tite fille, t'es la fille de la veuve que moi, j'aimais.

Moi (z) aujourd’hui, dans la traîne dans les chemins, chérie.

Chère, t'es partie de mourir moi tout seul là bas à la pointe noire.

Yé yaille, tu connais, toi tu me fais des misères, j'suis parti m'en aller.

Hé, toi tu marches pour ton nég', te connais ce ton nég' est parti, s'en aller si longtemps.

Hé, canaille.

Pourquoi tu me fais les misères!

Columbus "Boy" Fruge

In 1929, Frugé traveled along with Opelousas jewelry store owner Frank Dietlien, fiddler Leo Soileau, and accordionist Moise Robin to Memphis, Tennessee where he recorded four sides for Ralph Peer's Victor Records including "Pleur Plus' (Don't Cry)", (#22206).  It was a similar melody to Angelas Lejeune's "Valse De La Lousianne" and Bixy Guidry's "Qu'Est Que J'Ai Fait Pour Etre Peuni Si Longemps?".  In the song, he be referring to Pointe Noire, a locale not for from Fruge's home in Arnaudville, Louisiana.  For some of the Victor engineers working that day in the Claridge Hotel ballroom, the raw accordion sound and loud raucous of Fruge banging on Coca-Cola crate lumber was too much for them to bear.   According to Dietlein,

After listening to two or three of Fruge's practice runs of his accordion music, his singing and his stomping on the wooden board, I noticed that all of the engineers had placed wads of cotton in their ears.  Being the sensitive soul that I am, and disliking the thought of hurting any person's feelings, I asked the head engineer, what was the reason for the wads of cotton.  "Listen, friend," declared the fellow, "We've recorded the tom toms of tribal Africa and the tin pan music of China, but our ears have never listened to anything like this."2  

Hey, yaille! Dear little girl, you're the daughter of the widow I loved,

Today, I'm lagging behind down the road, honey,

Dear, you left me to die by myself over there in the black point.

Ye yaille, you know, you make me miserable, I'm going to go.

Hey, you're walking towards your old man, you know your old man left to go so long ago.

Hey, mischievous one.

Why do you make me miserable!

1. http://theanthologyofamericanfolkmusic.blogspot.com/2010/02/saut-crapaud-jump-frog-columbus-fruge.html
2. Daily World (Opelousas, Louisiana) 28 Oct 1965, Thu Page 4

Find:

Cajun Country, Vol. 2, More Hits from the Swamp (JSP, 2005)

"Five Foot Five" - Bill Hutto

Country artists commonly used Cajun musicians to fill in the ranks as their talent and popularity grew.  As Cajun musicians looked to other bands in order to keep playing, east Texas would provide country music stars looking to record songs around south Louisiana.  During the 1950s, George "Bill" Hutto landed in the J.D. Miller studio and recorded six country tunes, with many of Happy Fat's band members, including Oran "Doc" Guidry, a Cajun fiddle player.  One of his first tunes he recorded was a swingy number called "Five Foot Five" (#1021) for Feature records.   According to Ron Yule, the Sons of the South consisted of several Cajun musicians: Curtis DeLoach on drums, Sandy Lormand on guitar, Bradley Stutes on steel guitar, and Jack Richards on tenor sax.  The group lasted till 1951. 

She's my five foot five,

And boy oh boy, is she alive

She makes me blue, she makes me sad,

But she's the prettiest gal I've ever had,

She's my five foot five.

She can make my heart pitty pat,

She never wants a new dress or a new hat,

She just wants what I can give, baby,

She's my five foot five.

She's my number one,

The only gal for me beneath the sun,

Bill Hutto

And when we go out at night,

She cuddles up close and holds me tight,

She's my five foot five.

She can make my heart pitty pat,

She never wants a new dress or a new hat,

She just wants what I can give, baby,

She's my five foot five.

Rayne Tribune
July 20, 1951

Hillbilly music had always been Miller's favorite music and it was not a difficult decision in leaving his Fais Do Do label to promote his Feature label.  Happy Fats recalls how Bill was slated to play for the Louisiana Hayride one year, however, the owner of Shreveport Syrup, who was backing Happy and Doc's broadcast, had spent a lot of money on the duo and decided otherwise. He would eventually record with Eddie Shuler's Goldband label. Happy recalls:

We stayed on the show in place of poor Bill Hutto which I wasn't glad of because he was a nice boy and everything.  Be they invited us back and we went back several times.5 

Back in Orange, TX, he hosted a television show, in the 1950s, titled "The Bill Hutto Show". In the US Army, he became Personnel Management Specialist with the rank of Staff Sergeant. His assignments included tours of Greenland, Germany, and various posts in the United States.  He later retired from the US Army and was a member of the Disabled American Veterans. He was also a member of the Amateur Ham Radio Club. 

1. South to Louisiana: The Music of the Cajun Bayous By John Broven
2. http://www.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~txorange/Vital/obits/huttogeorgebill.html
3. Negotiating Difference in French Louisiana Music: Categories, Stereotypes By Sara Le Menestrel
4. http://www.bopping.org/happy-fats-leroy-leblanc-his-rayne-bo-ramblers-louisiana-extraordinaire-1935-1967/
5. Cajun Breakdown: The Emergence of an American-Made Music By Ryan Andre Brasseaux

Find:

I'm A Honky Tonk Daddy (Flyright, 1992)

"Les Blues De Crowley (Crowley Blues)" - Amede Ardoin & Dennis McGee

The "blues" of Cajun music wouldn't be recognized in the same manner as the typical blues music being recorded in New Orleans.   It was more of a wailing sorrow and less of a call-and-response style commonly heard.  It truly was an early synthesis of traditional Cajun material with African American forms. They are reminiscent of the crudely emotive style common in early country blues recorded during the same era in the Mississippi Delta.2  Here is Amede Ardoin's take on the blues, "Les Blues De Crowley" (#2190) on Bluebird records.

Travelling with Dennis McGee, a white fiddler, provided Ardoin, a black accordionist, more protection in places where he played and stayed.3 In 1934, the duo headed to San Antonio, TX for a session with Bluebird records.  This one session at the Texas Hotel accounts for half of his total output of such overtly blues-inspired numbers. According to author Irene Whitfield in 1939,

Amede was known throughout my community [Crowley] as P'tit Nègre Ardoin. He was very well respected for his musical talent and his recordings were all sought after.5  

Oh, je m'en vas, je m'en vas z à la maison

Tout seul, j'ai pas conné ayou c'est,

Demander pour moi te voir.

Oh, je m'en vas, m'en vas à la maison,

M'en vas, ô moi tout seul,

Quoi faire, c'est moi je vas à toi,

T'es après partir toi tout seaul.

Oh, moi je m'en vastous les Samedis au soir,

Oh, je m'en vas à la maison,

Ta mom est après me quereller!

Tes parents ça ceut pas de moi,

Ça veut pas me voir tout seul.

Oh, pourquot, ils sont après me quereller pour ça?

Dennis McGee

Because Ardoin's take on the blues featured French lyrics sung by an accordionist, they seem simultaneously exotic and familiar, foreshadowing the subsequent synthesis at the core of early zydeco.2 According to writer Jared Snyder:

When a musician such as Amede Ardoin wished to play a song like "Les Blues De Crowley", he solved the problem by shifting his hands down the buttons, playin his D accordion in the key of A, a move that allowed him to play the flattened seventh-- a "blue note."  The rest of the effect he accomplished with his powerful voice. 

The following year, slight accordion turns in the song would go onto inspire the main melody in Nathan Abshire's "French Blues".

Oh, I'm leaving, I'm going home,

All alone, I didn't know where to go,

I demand to see you.

Oh, I'm leaving, I'm going home,

I'm leaving all alone,

Why should I go to your place?

You're leaving all alone.

Oh, I'm leaving, every Saturday night,

Oh, I'm going home,

Your mom is quarreling.

Your parents don't want me,

They don't want to see me all alone.

Oh, why are they quarrelling with me?

The song influenced many tunes such as "Rosalia" by Eddie Segura, "Le Crepe A Nasta" in 1937 by Happy Fats, "Hula Hoop Two Step" by Nathan Abshire",  "Le Crepe A Nazaire" by Shirley Bergeron, "Coulee Rodair" by Canray Fontenot and  "Le 'Tit Negre a Tante Dolie" by Ambrose Thibodeaux.  According to collector Jared Mariconi:

Nobody could do it like Amedie and Dennis. They must have been amazing at three in the morning at some fais do do. Sometimes when I think about the Cajun blues, it seems like vocally it has similarities to the free form rural blues styles in Texas (such as Texas Alexander) and the east (Barefoot Bill), but with the intensity of Charley Patton or Blind Willie Johnson from the delta. Instead of a stark back and forth interplay between the singer and a guitar, the singer is almost detached from the music and can go wherever they want, even back to declamatory 17th century a capella styles or shouts and yells, because the structure of the musical interplay between the fiddle and accordion is there to return to. What a magical combination of style and structure and McGee and Ardoin did it better than anyone.

Among the thirty-four titles that compose his entire recorded repertoire, Ardoin made specific reference to “blues” only four times, and one half of those references occurred during this single session in San Antonio, a fact that symbolically hints at the role Texas would play in the intermingling of la la and blues for decades to come.4

Regarding the spelling of Dennis vs Denus, after speaking to his relatives, his name is listed as "Dennis" on recordings and his grave site, however, his close friends and family spelled it "Denus".

1. The Kingdom of Zydeco By Michael Tisserand
2. Texas Zydeco By Roger Wood
3. http://www.louisianatravel.com/music/articles/our-own-music-cajun-and-zydeco
4. Southeast Texas: Hot House of Zydeco by R. Wood.
5. Louisiana French Folk Songs by Irene Therese Whitfield

Release Notes:

BS-83856-1 Les Blues De Crowley (Crowley Blues) | Bluebird B-2190-A

BS-83857-1 Oberlin | Bluebird B-2190-B

Find: 

I'm Never Comin' Back: The Roots of Zydeco (Arhoolie, 1995)
Cajun Country, Vol. 2, More Hits from the Swamp (JSP, 2005)

"Lemonade Song" - Leroy Broussard

LeRoy Broussard was another popular Cajun accordion player during the 1940s.   He had played with Chester "Pee Wee" Broussard. According to Mr. C.J. Broussard, LeRoy was the first Cajun accordionist to play dances standing up contrary to the credit given the late Austin Pitre. C.J., who is said to have owned eleven night clubs, hired LeRoy Broussard to play at his B.O. Sparkle Club in the early 1950's. What brought all this about was that LeRoy would play his accordion when at home often lying in bed! Mr. C.J. asked him how long he could play standing up and the reply from LeRoy was 'as long as you want'. Mr. C.J. Broussard had LeRoy play his dances standing up from then on. 2

Moi j'aime cousin et moi j'aime cousine mais j'aime mieux la cuisinière.  

Samedi, ce soir, moi courir au bal, je m'ai saoulé comme un gros cochon. 

Dimanche matin, il est tout manière malade,

Passez lui le verre à limonade.

L'hiver arrive, l'hiver arrive, ton p'tit nég a pas de couverte,

Samedi, ce soir, l'ai courir au bal, je m'ai saoulé comme un gros cochon,

Dimanche matin, j'ai tout manière malade, 

Passez moi le verre à limonade.

Moi j'aime cousin et moi j'aime cousine mais j'aime mieux la cuisinière.  

Samedi, ce soir, moi courir au bal, moi saoulé comme un gros cochon. 

Dimanche matin, il est tout manière malade,

Passez moi le verre à limonade.

Moi je bois du vin et moi je mange des dattes, et tout ça, ça me coute pas rien,

Samedi, ce soir, l'ai courir au bal, je m'ai saoulé comme un gros cochon,

Dimanche matin, j'ai tout manière malade, 

Passez moi le verre de Kary-On.

Leroy Broussard

In 1957, Leroy entered Eddie Shuler's studio and recorded "Lemonade Song" (#1048), a tune Columbus "Boy" Frugé recorded as "Point Clear Blues" for Victor Records in 1929.  Some rumors claim that "Blackie" Dartez wrote the song for Leroy.  The reason for this was the fact that Blackie had already recorded the tune with Jimmy Choates and the Melody Boys band back in the late 1940s entitled "Petite Negress".  In Leroys' version he replaced Hadacol with Kary-On. "Kary-On" was a popular elixir similar to Hadacol.  It was launched by Louisiana state senator Dudley J. LeBlanc after he sold off his "Hadacol" brand to a syndicate on unwary Yankee investors.

I appreciate my cousin, appreciate my cousin, but I prefer the cook,

Saturday night, I went to the dance, I got drunk like a big pig,

Sunday morning, I wasn't feeling well,

Pass me a glass of lemonade.

Winter comes, winter comes, your old man isn't inside,

Saturday night, I ran to the dance, I got drunk like a big pig,

Sunday morning, I wasn't feeling well,

Pass me a glass of lemonade.

I appreciate my cousin, appreciate my cousin, but I prefer the cook,

Saturday night, I ran to the dance, I got drunk like a big pig,

Sunday morning, I wasn't feeling well,

Pass me a glass of lemonade.

I drank wine and ate dates, and all that, it didn't cost me anything,

Saturday night, had to run to the dance, I got drunk like a big pig,

Sunday morning, I wasn't feeling well,

Pass me the glass of Kary-On.

Daily Advertiser
Apr 22, 1951

For years, Leroy claimed he wrote the tune, however, other musicians, such as Moise Robin, knew better.

I went to Lafayette one night and met Leroy Broussard at a saloon while at the bar drinking a few beers. He came over and introduced himself. I was glad and we started a good conversation. He said, "you made some records?"  "Yes," I answered, "and you too?" Leroy said, "Yes, I made Passe Moi Le Verre De Lionade."  "Aw, " I said, "it's not you who made that; it's [Columbus] 'Boy' Fruge who made that in 1929."  But Leroy said, "I tell you it's me who made the record."  I told him, "You're wrong!"  He got angry.  I said, "Okay, but someday I might find 'Boy' Fruge's record , and even if I have to go to your home, I'll find out where you live and I will show you that it's not you who made that record.3  

In 1991, at a jam-session at the Friendly Inn, Lafayette, Louisiana, he dropped in to play a few songs with his friends. He played four numbers and stopped playing complaining of weakness. He died three days later at his home in Carencro, Louisiana.

1. http://www.discogs.com/artist/2522099-Leroy-Broussard
2. http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=14306583\
3. Ye Yaille Chere by Raymond Francois
4. Image by UL Cajun and Creole Collection
5. Discussions with Bryan L and 'Bassman'

Find: 
Cajun Dance Tunes Vol.2 (Goldband, 1989)