Photo: Steve Rapport

[Tonight George Porter Jr. enters Jazz Fest mode with 15 gigs scheduled through May 5. The following conversation appears on the back page of our March issue.]

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“This album is our first attempt at recording as an all-instrumental band,” George Porter Jr. says of his new release with the Runnin’ Pardners. Although the iconic bassist first distinguished himself on studio sessions without vocalists as a member of The Meters in the late 1960s, this is the initial time he’s done so with his present-day group, in which he also sings lead on some tunes. The aptly titled Porter’s Pocket features his galvanic quartet of keyboardist Michael Lemmler, drummer Terrence Houston and Chris Adkins on guitar.

Before discussing the new release, Porter shares his thoughts on the recent blizzard, which dumped eight inches of snow on his native New Orleans in late January. “I want to say, in my lifetime—77 years—I’ve seen snow in New Orleans maybe three or four times,” he recalls. “But somebody just told me that this is the very first time we’ve had this kind of snow since the 1800s. The first time I can remember it is when I was in my early teens. It snowed but it didn’t stay long enough for anyone to go out and pick up a f lake. I’m not a big fan of snow and I’m not going to turn into someone who wants to be a part of the whole snow thing, but it was exciting to watch.”

As for the initial feedback on the album, Porter makes an intriguing observation. He notes, “A lot of the writers I’ve been talking to have said that I leaned on The Meters sound really hard, but I don’t see that. The interesting thing is that almost all of the people who said that were writing for jazz magazines. It makes me wonder, ‘If The Meters were to set out today, would they be considered a jazz band?’”

Did you know when you first went into the studio that this was going to be an all-instrumental record?

Yes, to some degree, but it didn’t turn out to be the instrumental record we went in there to record. We went in there to record a jazz record. The songs were supposed to be reinterpreted that way, but for some reason or another, they were too funky to be jazz. I think maybe five or six songs into the session, Joe [Kalb, the band’s live sound engineer, who also produced the album with Porter,] said, “This is far from being jazz.” I told him: “What they call jazz today is basically instrumental R&B songs. So this could border on a jazzy feeling.” On a couple of the songs, we swung the middle just to see.

I seem to recall that making a jazz record is something that you’ve had in your head for a little while.

It has been in my head for some time. Many years ago, I wrote a set of songs for David Lastie, and most of it was going to be swing. I wrote eight songs for David, then he got sick and passed away. So I thought about introducing those songs to a young lady named Juanita Brooks and then she passed away. I said to myself: “Man, I don’t know what’s going on with these songs.” Then I thought about Snooks Eaglin and Snooks passed away. That’s when I put the songs away. I thought, “These songs may be dangerous.” Or other people just said, “I think I’d rather die than play that shit.” [Laughs.]

In the fall, you appeared at Tipitina’s as part of a tribute to Irma Thomas. Back when you were a teenager, one of the first times you went on the road was with Irma. What are your memories of that?

I love my big sister Irma. What happened was she needed a guitar. At the time, I was more a guitar player than a bass player, although I had been playing bass, too. But the guitar player that was with her, Walter Washington, didn’t have a guitar because his was in the local pawn shop. So I was hired for Walter to play my guitar. [Laughs.] I ended up playing two songs on bass.

That was the first time I left the state of Louisiana to play a gig. I had been going out of New Orleans to different parts of Louisiana, playing with guys like Earl King and Ernie K-Doe. Irma tells people that she was the first one to take me on the road and she was the first one to take me on the road out of the state of Louisiana.

Many of the tunes on Porter’s Pocket originated during your weekly Maple Leaf gigs. Can you talk about the songwriting process?

Pretty much every Monday that we play, the first 20 minutes of the gig is something that comes off the top of my head. I might think about something at home earlier that day and then fool around with it, but usually, I just make something up. Sometimes I tell Terrence to give me a pocket, then he’ll start playing and I’ll come up with a bassline.

Songs come out of that and also during the gig. We’ll jam out of another song, and I might start a bassline that I’ll want to go back and revisit. If something hits me hard, the next morning I’ll get up, have some breakfast, then go up to the studio, pull the little SD card out of the recorder, stick it in the computer and download that set. Then I’ll go ahead and find that piece of music, cut it out and put it in a folder called Live Jams, thinking that we can build on that piece of music and make a song from it.

When we went to the studio, I had 12 pieces that we were going to revisit. Michael and Chris also brought in pieces, and Terrence played a groove for us to check out. Out of that we came up with the eight songs for the record.

“Sauce on the Side,” has a reggae feel to it.  How did you find your way to that one?

We do a Johnny Adams song called “Body and Fender Man.” It was a blues song that Johnny Adams did in one of his projects. I had been playing it with this reggae feeling and I thought that reggae feel could easily be another song. So I added a few different chord movements. I turned it from a 12-bar blues into a 16-bar blues with the intention to maybe write lyrics for it. But then once we got into it, I felt, “Man, this could stay an instrumental.”

What inspired the tune “Proteins and Carbohydrates?”

Most of the songs on the record were about the people and events that were happening with the band on the road. That particular song was about a crew guy who wasn’t doing what he needed to do to keep a healthy mind and body while we were on tour. So the title was inspired by him.

Although this album is comprised solely of instrumental music, since you mentioned writing lyrics, when you think back to the moment you started singing lead, was there someone you initially emulated?

I got my idea of wanting to sing from Ray Charles, along with the way that Earl King and Art Neville phrased things. So it was probably Art Neville and Earl King, with a bottom line of Ray Charles up under that. But because I was playing syncopated bass lines, sometimes I had to learn how to sing in between notes. There are a few songs I’ve written and recorded that I can’t play. That’s because I recorded the track and put the vocals on later. Then when I got to a rehearsal, I said, “Oh shit, this isn’t going to work.” [Laughs.] Most of those I’ve been able to rework and play but there are probably three or four songs on the 11 solo albums I’ve recorded that I have not yet performed live at all.

You’ll soon be returning to the stage for two nights with Voodoo Dead [which also features Steve Kimock, Jackie Greene, Al Schnier and John Morgan Kimock]. Given that you’ve previously toured with Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzmann, do you approach those songs differently in this setting?

Absolutely. The Voodoo Dead project is way more open but with pockets, whereas the Dead stuff was always spacey and floating around. Myself and Young Kimock on drums, we lock a pocket that allows for everybody else that’s on the stage to do the spacey stuff, but there’s a pocket to be spoken of in the Voodoo Dead.

It’s not only the Dead stuff, though. We add a New Orleans feeling to the tunes. That’s the idea of the voodoo. We’ve gotten complaints over the last couple of years that we don’t have enough voodoo. [Laughs.] So this year, I’ve added two more Dr. John songs to the mix, so we have a little bit more voodoo.