Didn't they ramble? Dirty Dozen, Kermit Rufffins, Lil' Ed hit town

For the past few years, Hollywood Beach has done Mardi Gras right. Crescent City royalty including Dr. John, Allan Toussaint and Marcia Ball have all celebrated Fat Tuesday South Florida style, trading in the bustle of Bourbon Street for the roar of the surf. And this year's edition continued the good-time tradition, as The Dirty Dozen Brass Band and Kermit Ruffins capped the all-day beach party with spirited night-time performances.



• Helmed by the veteran front line of baritone saxophonist Roger Lewis (above), trumpeter Efrem Towns, tenor saxophonist Kevin Harris and trumpeter Gregory Davis, Dirty Dozen put on a signature set of rollicking brass-fueled New Orleans classics. With a festive and furry oversize hat shading his eyes, the cannonball-shaped Towns served as the merry master of revels, handling most of the vocals and even blowing two horns at once, one of which was the toy-size pocket trumpet favored by Don Cherry. Each musician took a turn in the spotlight, with Lewis consistently delivering the greasy goods on the bari, while tenorman Harris unleashed brawny yet sophisticated fills and solos. Trumpeter Davis also killed, while the big man, Julius McKee, held down the bottom end with his burping sousaphone. Of course, you can't do justice to tunes like "Mardi Gras in New Orleans" or "Big Chief" without a snap-tight rhythm section, and drummer Terrence Higgins laid down the parade-ground sound with snap and excitement, while guitarist Jake Eckert unspooled some razor-wire solos. Keeping still was not an option, as audience members dutifully shook their booties and grubbed for beads tossed from the stage; even the ocean seemed to be in on the act, as the wind churned the surf nearby.

• Unfortunately, the momentum faded as about 40 minutes elapsed between Dirty Dozen and Ruffins. A large portion of the audience wandered away, not exactly riveted by the shapely, hand-painted contestants vying for top prize on the neighboring black-light stage. When Ruffins and his quartet did take the stage, the crowd had dwindled, and the music was far more low-key than what Dirty Dozen had offered. No question, Ruffins is a top-flight musician and entertainer, blowing some beautiful solos on his trumpet and singing standards in an engaging voice. However, going from the full-on, high-octane brass assault of the Dozen to a more-sedate jazz-club set was kind of a letdown, at least as far as the energy level goes. In hindsight, event organizers should have reversed the order of the acts, and, while sometimes it's unavoidable, they need to keep in mind that long delays between performances are the ultimate buzz kills.




• There was no letdown — nor letup — when Lil' Ed and the Blues Imperials hit the stage at The Back Room Friday night. Together now for 20 years, the Chicago blues vets kept the engine revving through two long and energetic sets. Lil' Ed Williams remains a marvel of kineticism, as he expertly worked his steely slide over the strings of a black Epiphone — a guitar he acquired in a swap with Back Room owner John Yurt — and sang in a hoarse baritone holler accompanied by the cartoonish expressions of his elastic features. While the crowded room and limited stage space didn't allow for much in the way of acrobatics, Williams did, at one point, stroll through the house, beaming broadly as he continued playing a typically fierce solo.

Crowned by his signature fez — a snazzy, red and gold-embroidered number — Williams performed tunes from his new album, Full Tilt, as well as a few Chicago blues classics. Among the latter, he offered up a boogeying rendition of J.B. Lenoir's "Mojo Boogie," (its lyrics, "I been to New Orleans and I sure had a wonderful time" perfectly suited to Mardi Gras week) on which he ripped some wicked slide licks on a cigar-box guitar. Another highlight was a terrific read of the tear-stained slow-blues "As the Years Go Passing By," although Williams' eye rolls and mugging were kind of distracting. But then, you could always choose to look at outstanding bassist James "Pookie" Young, Williams' half-brother, who seemed to really be feeling it; with his eyes squeezed shut, the big man appeared to be lost in reverie. Guitarist Michael Garrett and drummer Kelly Littlejohn were spot-on, as usual; hell, after 20 years, this band practically breathes as one. As many of the audience can attest — particularly the Ed Heads, who sport fezes of their own — Lil' Ed and the Blues Imperials damn near guarantee that you'll leave whatever venue they're playing feeling better than you did when you walked in.