Queen of New Orleans

Irma Thomas, the Soul Queen of New Orleans, is, at 58, still at the musical heart of the Crescent City

Irma Thomas, the Soul Queen of New Orleans, is, at 58, still at the musical heart of the Crescent City. I sought her out for two specific purposes. First, I wanted to hear her sing, and second, I needed to be put right on a few historical matters. New Orleans, after all, is a place which yields as much confusion as delight.

In truth, the place had thrown me completely. I hadn't expected much and yet I'd found the music very much alive and, better again, so too were most of the people who had first made it. In fact, I'd bumped into most of them on my first night out on the town - Allen Toussaint, Ernie K-Doe, The Meters, Clarence Samuels and many more. It seemed that this near mythical place was as unique as ever, and everyone I met had one more theory to throw in the pot.

I heard the Queen sing the night I arrived. With the opening lines of It's Raining, the hairs stood on the back of my neck. Her voice was as clear, as immediate and as soulful as ever, and she swayed with rare and earthy grace. I had maybe hoped to meet her later in the week over at her own joint - The Lion's Den - but better still, I found myself invited out to the house. It was all happening much too fast. When I arrived out the next day, the red beans were already cooking, and the radiant Irma was ready to tell me a thing or two about New Orleans.

"I think entertainers in New Orleans - the older ones - are the most uncompetitive people we know. We're more apt to jump on stage to share the spotlight than try to take the spotlight from each other. And, when we run into acts that are selfish, we just kinda sit back and look at them and wonder what's wrong with them. So, I think New Orleans artists are different in that respect. Also you've got to realise that because this is a port city and one of the first early cities, you get this gumbo of music. And, in order to make a living, you gotta be able to do a little bit of all of it. Of course, those of us who have gotten our little niche don't have to cross over and step on anybody else's toes, but we always enjoy each other's music."

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There has, however, been a sense that the success of New Orleans music was always limited by something inherent in the Big Easy approach. Few stars ever had huge international (or even national) success and, while Lee Dorsey and Benny Spellman occupy cult status, they never enjoyed anything like the success of those superstar exceptions such as Fats Domino.

One obvious reason is that, unlike Detroit and Memphis, New Orleans never developed effective record companies of its own and so never became a recording centre in the way other cities did. But someone in Tipitina's had come up with another suggestion - that the problem with New Orleans musicians was that they never knew how good they were.

Irma Thomas won't hear of it. "Oh we knew we were pretty good. We all knew that we were good entertainers because we'd been making a living at it for a long time. It's just that a lot of people come into New Orleans and take us for granted - like we're backward hicks or something. Maybe we didn't always know the business, but we're getting more business savvy. And, now that we've got savvy, they take a stand-off attitude because they can't get over on us the way they used to."

That said, many truly great New Orleans acts never achieved the success of which they were obviously capable. Irma herself, despite a very successful career, had only one top 20 single in the US - and it was recorded in LA.

Another theory put to me (by one of Dr John's buddies) was that there was so much work in New Orleans that musicians were happy to stay where they were. But, as Irma points out, that theory leaves out one very important factor - greenbacks. "Well, there's a lot of work here for musicians - if they want to work at those prices. So, for me there wasn't that much work here. I always did a lot of travelling and still do. Yes, there are a lot of places to play and, yes, you can survive here if you want to - but a lot of the musicians hold down a second job."

And, so, disturbed to find that members of the Dirty Dozen Brass Band might be physics teachers by day, I questioned the Queen on the race issue. Music in New Orleans is never simply a case of black and white. The notion of black music, white music and who can play what, doesn't even seem to apply. Certainly the city has its problems like any other, but musically, it is very pluralist, which explains much of the unique kicks and shifts in the music of the place.

"The racial division we had back when segregation was in was because it was the law. It wasn't because they wanted it that way. There were times when white musicians would sneak to black clubs just to sit in, and vice versa. They would ease us in the back door and we would perform and leave.

"I gathered a white following real early in my career. I crossed over at a time before they called it crossover. It wasn't a thing I did on purpose, it just happened that way. For months and months when It's Raining and Ruler of My Heart were out, the white stations were playing it, not realising that I wasn't white! But, by the time they'd found out I wasn't white, it was too late!"

The race issue did arise back in 1964 when The Rolling Stones covered one of her B-sides - Time is On My Side - and scored their first major US hit. She hadn't written the song, but there's no mistaking that The Stones's version was based rather lovingly on hers. And worse again for Irma was that, when The Stones toured the US on the back of its success, it was Tina Turner and not Irma Thomas who toured with them. She may have somehow lost her song - but the tour at least might have helped her career considerably. It was a hard blow.

"At the time the Stones re-recorded that song, my career was just on the upswing. I was just beginning to climb in the charts and beginning to get some national recognition. Then along came the British Invasion.

"I say it, and it's no reflection on Mick Jagger because he's laughing all the way to the bank - but he still can't sing. I've never had the opportunity to tell him that, but I would if I could. He just happened to be British and things caught on and he rode the wave like the rest of the groups. But, at that time, I really wanted to make it and it just floored me - along with a lot of other r'n'b acts who were climbing the charts.

"When the Beatles and all the other groups came, it just squashed us. It hurt a lot of careers. European groups would come to the States and leave here millionaires. We'd go over there and come back and couldn't pay a bill."

Irma Thomas was successfully covered again in 1984, this time by the irritating Tracy Ullman. She sang Breakaway, as Irma puts it, "verbatim". But this time around it didn't particularly hurt because The Queen was already on her throne.

Back in 1964, however, it was a real problem - although that was clearly never the intention of groups such as the Stones who had a particular penchant for Louisiana r'n'b.

When I suggest that, if it hadn't been for The Stones, most people in Europe might never have heard her glorious original, she smiles. She admits that, these days, she is flattered by the whole thing and acknowledges that it did lead to her being appreciated more.

In her case, however, such recognition, was a long time coming, "The Rolling Stones, The Beatles and all those bands bought our r'n'b records - especially Louisiana acts - and they admit that. They used to sit down and play them over and over and copy them in many ways. And I'm sure they were a big help in bringing our music to Europe, because I made my first trip to Europe in 1966 and I was scared to death. I had no idea anybody knew anything about me . . . But when I got off the plane and saw the banners and all the fans, I gave a great sigh of relief.

"So, yes, it helped us, but back then, we weren't even thought of in many cases. I'm getting more appreciation now than I did then. And I'm glad most of us are still around to get it."

Before I left, the Soul Queen of New Orleans offered me rice and beans. Totally smitten, I offered to be her gardener. She's thinking about it. So am I.