Mardi Gras Ball: Marcia Ball and Subdudes co-headline at the Garde

February 11, 2017 11:01 pm • Last Updated: February 13, 2017 2:38 pm

By Rick Koster
Day Arts/Features writer

Marcia Ball (Mary Keating Bruton)

Marcia Ball and Subdudes co-headline at the Garde

Texas-born and Louisiana-bred, piano queen Marcia Ball released her rollicking last CD, "The Tattooed Lady and the Alligator Man," back in 2014. In a career that's spanned 45 years, 17 albums, 10 Blues Music and nine Living Blues awards, five Grammy nominations and countless miles in a joyous cycle of touring, a three-year gap between albums hardly qualifies as protracted.

Talking on the phone from the den of her Austin, Texas, home, where she says she's about to make tacos, Ball does a bit of mental arithmetic.

"How many shows have there been?" she rhetorically asks herself. "Well, at least 100 a year — sometimes more — and multiply that by more years than I want to think about." She laughs. "Plus, a few years ago, I changed booking agents because I was wishing for more work and, boy, be careful what you wish for!"

Ball is now gearing up for a run of northeast dates that brings her Feb. 23 to New London's Garde Arts Center. She's co-headlining with some good pals, New Orleans' infectious Subdudes, on a bill aptly called the "Boogie on the Bayou Mardi Gras Celebration." Both in musical context and real time — Fat Tuesday in Feb. 28 — it couldn't be more appropriate.

Ball's fluidly funky piano skills channel Professor Longhair and Jerry Lee Lewis, while her songs, spanning dancefloor boogie and wise, sad ballads, reflect the architectural wizardry of Allen Toussaint and Ray Charles. As for the 'dudes, their harmony-sparkled material fuses swamp pop, New Orleans rock and archival southern soul. Last fall, they released their ninth studio album, the sublime "4 on the Floor." It's a dream bill anytime but particularly this time of year.

And if New England seems a long way from New Orleans at carnival time, Ball is quick to point out how much our region has become a favorite touring spot for Louisiana and Texas musicians. Various roots music festivals, blues societies and zyedeco dance clubs have blossomed throughout the northeast in the last two decades, and Ball thinks a lot of it has to do with the vast popularity of New Orleans' Jazz Fest — which over the years has evolved from a local showcase to an event that draws hundreds of thousands of people from across the country and even internationally.

"We're always thrilled to come up north, and people all over have become increasingly interested in roots music," Ball says. "The Rhythm 'n' Roots Festival (held every Labor Day in Charlestown, R.I.) is a tremendous example, and the people attending are always so welcoming. We always say, 'How did you find out about us?,' and invariably it's because they traveled to Jazz Fest."

Ball also attributes a lot of local awareness of blues and roots music to Rhode Island and artists like Roomful of Blues, Fran Christina and Johnny Nicholas and Westerly's renowned Knickerbocker Café (now Knickerbocker Music Center), where Ball has played numerous times.

"Rhody is very interesting," Ball says. "It's like it was originally part of the Gulf Coast, and a chunk broak off and floated to New England and became Rhode Island. It's a funky, very hip place, musically."

With her frenetic performance schedule, it's perhaps understandable that Ball hasn't found time to write and record a new album. Nonetheless, she suggests that sometimes an artist needs a bit of a push to ignite those creative juices. In this case, the recent presidential election might help.

"Politics is hideous right now," she says. "Living here in Austin, I wonder: when we attack Mexico, will they draft me?"

Ball is joking, of course. Sort of. But Donald Trump's victory shocked and angered her. On one hand, she's been grateful to play a lot because touring has been a distraction and comfort.

"Music is therapeutic," she says, "not just for me but, since the election, we get so many 'Thank you's' from fans at shows for, you know, an hour of respite."

At the same time, Ball says she hasn't really had time to process the meaning and implication of the election.

"I've got to admit, at Thanksgiving, we went to Europe to play for three weeks, then came home briefly for the holidays," she says. "On the fifth of January, we did (Delbert McClinton's annual Sandy Beaches blues cruise) and then back to Europe again. I missed all of the marches, unfortunately, and I want and need to find what little things I can do. I haven't been active enough, and I'm just getting my feet back under me and up to speed. I just keep thinking back to the first week of November and how amazingly we jeopardized ourselves. We just put a nut in the White House."

Ball is thinking about starting an Austin-based recording project with like-minded musical pals such as Carolyn Wonderland, Guy Forsyth and official State Musician of Texas Shelley King.

"It would just be a sort of protest record to raise funds for certain causes," Ball says. "It doesn't have to be a large-scale thing, just a statement and a commitment. We'd have to work around schedules, but Austin's a wonderfully active and supportive community, and when someone needs something, we all pull together."

Inasmuch as Ball also calls New Orleans home — certainly in a spiritual fashion and also because she spends so much time there — she's thinking about trying to start a similar project with musicians there.

The joy and rewards of music, coupled with a conscious attempt to stay involved in important causes should indeed spur Ball to get back in the studio, both in the collaborative, activist sense as well as for her longtime label, Alligator Records. As she says, "I've been needing to get off my butt and write some new songs. I've definitely got some stuff cooking, and now it's time."