main: December 2007 Archives

In general, signs of decay on a New Orleans building is a bad thing. Not so for the gorgeous dilapidation of Preservation Hall. You won't find much real jazz on Bourbon Street these days. But not far from it, there is -- and I'd like to think, will always be -- Preservation Hall. Here's a short appreciation of the hall and its wonderful recent boxed-set release, as appeared in The Wall Street Journal on Wednesday:

Three distinct groups lined up on St. Peter Street, just off Bourbon Street, one recent Sunday evening. The first awaited tall cocktails called "Hurricanes" at Pat O'Brien's bar. The second had signed up for a "ghost tour" through the French Quarter. The third sought passage through the iron gates at 726, better known as Preservation Hall. Once inside, that last group sat in a dusty room on benches and narrow floor cushions, sans food or beverages, seeking to drink in only traditional jazz and to commune with a singularly haunted spot.

Joel Dorn, who was one hell of a record producer and a dear friend, died yesterday of a heart attack at 65.

Joel loved good music, knew it when he heard it -- from Roberta Flack to Rahsaan Roland Kirk, the Allman Brothers to Max Roach, and on and on.

Joel was a hoops man. Knew the game, loved it. And he heard the music in bouncing balls and sneaker-on-wood squeaks.