Artist: THE MORNING 40 FEDERATION
Album: TRICK NASTY
Song: ONE IN THE BOTTLE
FROM THE BOY: Okay. So I'm a big gigantic slacker. I originally wanted to post this song on Fat Tuesday, make some nice comments about the dynamite New Orleans tunes posted on Home of the Groove (linked at left!) and then spend a few days downloading all the Mardi Gras goodness in the blogosphere. But instead I decided to try and make some money, and that made me really busy. Then I proceeded to dump a glass of water into my laptop and fuck it proper. So now, loaner model in hand, it’s finally time to post this bitch. My sincere apologies to the five guys who read this thing. Oh yeah, and to the Girl, too... who was forced to wait for me to get my act together.
So, a month later, One Track Minds celebrates Mardi Gras:
There is a neighborhood in New Orleans called the Ninth Ward. It's got a lot of independent businesses, a TON of churches, and an undeniable community pride. Describing that is hard, especially for an outsider. Here’s an example: A bartender friend of mine here in Kansas City, a guy who grew up in New Orleans, has a tattoo of the insignia from a Ninth Ward manhole cover on his forearm. The Garden District, this ain’t.
The Ninth Ward is the undisputed home of New Orleans’ best bar scene. And in that scene, on the best and most drunken nights, you will hear the Morning 40 Federation. This liquor-soaked outfit — named for their daily malt liquor meeting, beginning at noon — is long on good times and short on musical ability. They might as well be banging trashcans and yelling at the neighbors. Actually, they might be.
Listen to “One In The Bottle.” It could be a second line funeral dirge, the backing tune for a sleazy burlesque show, or the pinnacle of a Rat Pack-style musical standup show. It is of course, all of these things. And also an inspired overture to drunken, nameless, ashtray sex. Which we could all use a little more of, right?
FROM THE GIRL: Why is it that we always equate music with drinking and/or sex?
This tune, if you can call it that, is barely musical enough to be included in this blog. More or less, you could get 15 of your most tone-deaf friends, a case of Dewar's, some pots and pans, and some recording equipment, and recreate this track with ease. And it helps if you happen to have a friend who sounds like G. Love, like the Morning 40 Federation seems to.
While it's not going to be winning any Grammys, it is very entertaining. I imagine even more so when you're tanked. In fact, if you listen to this song enough times, you start to feel nauseous, cotton-mouthed, you even get a twinge of a headache. But with no nasty bar tab to go with it.