Download - Downbeat

notions and built on things with an experimental attitude.”
As a result, melodies on For True sometimes lurk within meandering
motifs. It’s interesting to hear Ellman—who performs as a DJ under the
name Gypsyphonic Disko and plays with the New Orleans Klezmer All-
Stars—on “Unc,” one of the disc’s highlights. The tune juxtaposes Serbian
music concepts with a gregarious beat representative of Treme Brass Band
legend Lionel Batiste, a bass drum player and singer known around town
as “Uncle Lionel.” (Beneath those layers lies a seed rooted in hip-hop:
Andrews says that Snoop Dogg and Pharrell Williams’ 2004 chart-topper
“Drop It Like It’s Hot” was an influence on the composition.)
The song “Big 12,” on the new album, draws on Andrews’ impressions
of scenes and characters from where he grew up. Neighbors tend to
hang out in the covered area beneath the I-10 highway at the intersection
of Orleans and Claiborne avenues. It’s a part of the Treme that was verdant
and foot traffic-friendly decades ago, before city planners tore up the oak
trees on Claiborne Avenue and built the interstate along what had been the
heart of the neighborhood. It’s also a favorite haunt of James Andrews II
and his friends, who like to observe the comings and goings there.
“‘Big 12’ is about my dad,” says Andrews. He wanted to recreate that
corner’s activity as if he were scoring a film. So he wrote funky music to
suggest action: “Because that’s what you see under the bridge: police driving
fast, you see some people might get in a fuss, some people having fun,
some people dancing with no music.” Inspired by his father’s pastime, Troy
adds, “I want to sit there with him one day and just see what happens.”
Growing up, Troy’s older brother, James “Lil’ 12” Andrews, was his
constant mentor. When Troy was still a toddler but clearly a prodigy,
James dubbed him “Trombone Shorty” for obvious reasons. He took
Shorty on the road with his own band, the New Birth Brass Band, taught
him what he knew and kept him in contact with legendary Treme musicians
like Anthony “Tuba Fats” Lacen, Kermit Ruffins and Rebirth Brass
Band founders Keith and Philip Frazier, all of whom Troy played with on
second lines around the 6th Ward.
In 1995, the Andrews family was devastated by the tragic death of
James and Troy’s brother, Darnell. Soon thereafter, Troy began living with
Susan Scott, a longtime family friend, who helped raise him and supervised
his education.
At the prestigious New Orleans Center for Creative Arts, Troy went
from child prodigy to well-rounded musician. “I was already exploring
[music] before I got to NOCCA. I was already touring,” he says. “They
wanted me to know and speak the language of what I was doing. It was more
about backtracking so I could understand everything that I was playing.”
By 2002, when Andrews released his debut, Swingin’ Gate, (Louisiana
Red Hot Records), the advantages of having learned “backwards,” as he
likes to say, were evident. Originals highlighting his post-bop compositional
chops, an homage to his grandfather (the Crescent City songwriting
icon Jessie Hill, who penned “Ooh Poo Pah Doo”) and a Latin-tinged
interpretation of “St. James Infirmary” all featured an intangible creative
passion that was almost as memorable as his technical mastery.
Embraced by critics, Swingin’ Gate kicked off a flurry of wide-ranging
recording projects for Andrews, including a bluegrass project and
a soulful, funk-infused jazz recording with James called 12 & Shorty
(Treme Records, 2004) that showcased the brothers’ symbiotic relationship
on trumpet and trombone.
The End Of The Beginning (Treme Records), by the Troy Andrews
Quintet, dropped in 2005, the same year as Orleans & Claiborne, an original
electric funk romp backed by the first incarnation of Orleans Avenue.
In those days, Andrews did not yet consider himself a singer. An invitation
from Lenny Kravitz to join his tour as a featured player took both his
vocal and rock interests in new directions.
Suddenly, Andrews was paying close attention to the new information
he could absorb on the road with Kravitz. During stopovers in New York,
he’d visit with his former classmate and original Orleans Avenue band
mate Jonathan Batiste, who was studying at The Juilliard School.
“We would hang out in the hotel room,” Batiste recalls, “and he would
tell me about what they were doing and how they rehearsed. Touring with