Freedia deems Mississippi a 'right-to-twerk' state

Cam Bonelli / Jack Hammett

Staff  Reporters / Awesome Kids

Freedia grooving at the Showroom set on March 25.
Photo: Cam Bonelli

Drinking patrons darted in and out of The Dollar BOX Showroom on Friday, March 25, cutting streaks through the artificial fog that spouted from the stage. A projected sign reading “MISSISSIPPI IS A RIGHT TO TWERK STATE” bathed the crowd in blue and red. When the opening DJ’s set came to a close, the air grew tense. A procession of dancers stalked onto the stage with confidence.

Then came Big Freedia, sporting a black robe that seemed to wave off the pressurized atmosphere as it fell away at the start of the first number.

Two weeks before Big Freedia’s initially scheduled February performance, The Dollar BOX Showroom owner Ben Shemper received a phone call

from Mississippi’s Alcohol Beverage Control board. The ABC said Big Freedia’s performance would be too sexually inappropriate to go on, according to The Times-Picayune.

Freedia marching out from backstage.
Photo: Cam Bonelli

“So [the ABC] expressed if there was gyrating at the show, it could be shut down,” said Big Freedia’s co-manager Reid Martin. “What we wound up doing is going up the ladder, if you will, and asked to speak with the ABC’s legal team and enforcement team. This is free speech. The way we read the law was that we were not in violation of anything.”

The ABC law prohibits “activities that include live entertainment or conduct which is lewd, immoral or offensive to public decency, including any live act or performance which appeals primarily to sexually oriented.” The law bans mud wrestling, bikini contests, beastiality, masturbatory activity and strippers– none of which Big Freedia and her dancers qualify as, according to Reid.

Reid said Big Freedia’s attorney spoke on the phone with the ABC’s chief of enforcement and deemed that twerking could not constitute lewd behavior.

“I guess they had seen some things on YouTube that would be deemed a violation,” Reid said. “We wouldn’t violate [the regulations]. We’ve played in Mississippi so many times. Our last show before this was the Mississippi Gulf Coast Coliseum. I’d like to chalk it up to misunderstanding.”

Reid said eventually the ABC and Big Freedia’s team came to an accord, and the show was rescheduled.

And Big Freedia returned with a vengeance.

“We had to stand up for ourselves,” Reid said. “I was shocked and in disbelief. When I heard it, I really didn’t think it was true. In my career in managing artists, it’s certainly the strangest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Reid said Big Freedia made a statement by coming back to Hattiesburg to perform.

“It is expression, it is speech and it is an art form,” Reid said. “There’s no question about it. What those dancers do is incredible. It was definitely a statement.”

Big Freedia’s statement in coming back to perform resonated with the Showroom crowd.

Amanda Kleinhans, a senior sculpture major at USM, said Freedia “brought it” like she always does.

“Closing out senior year, who else would you want to see other than Big Freedia,” Kleinhans said. “My professor told me about the show being cancelled. I think the whole lewd acts thing is ridiculous in such a progressive time. I think it’s partly censorship and, obviously as an artist, I don’t believe in censorship.”

Freedia and her dancers known as The Divas.
Photo: Cam Bonelli

Donald Thibodeaux, a dancer who tours and performs with Big Freedia, said he was glad the show was rescheduled because the performance was worth the time and energy.

“The crowd loved us,” Thibodeaux said. “We left our hearts and our sweat on the stage. We grind every day. It’s our craft. Everybody has an art. Everybody perfects an art.”

Thibodeaux said from day one he felt Freedia’s hospitality. His experiences with the Big Freedia team have been very positive.

“At the end of the day, she’s still a person,” Thibodeaux said. “I treat her like she’s my mother.”

The music TV channel Fuse appeared at the show and helped Freedia film footage for an upcoming music video and her reality show.

Following her performance, Freedia hurriedly left to attend a New Orleans birthday bash. When asked for comment, she politely declined.

Now, with no opposition from regulation officers, Mississippi is now a “right-to-twerk” state.

This article also appeared in The Student Printz.

Dérive returns to Hattiesburg, strikes back

Jack Hammett, Staff Reporter

Greg Nahabedian during the Spice World Set
Derek Ellis / Courtesy Photo

On March 15, Dérive of Northampton, Massachusetts dropped in on Spice World alongside some lo-fi locals and played with enough power to launch a pack of corned beef into orbit. Boasting the night’s heaviest sound, the group appealed to that baser instinct we all carry deep in our cannibal hearts: the instinct to groove.

This wasn’t Dérive’s first cow poke in Hattiesburg, so to speak. The group played several shows locally prior to March 15. What started as an off-handed 2013 show in Jackson ended with the band forming a relationship with venue owner Hampton Martin.

“Hampton ended up being one of just a few people to watch us, and he invited us to come play at his place next time we came through,” said Dérive vocalist Greg Nahabedian. “We played our first Hattiesburg show in January, 2014, and I think we've been back three more times since then.”

Nahabedian rockin' the accordian at Spice World
Derek Ellis / Courtesy Photo

According to Nahabedian, close-knit DIY communities like the one in Hattiesburg are sprinkled throughout the country. In such communities, they said, there are enough people to produce a lot of bands, but that it’s small enough so everyone can come to know each other.

“Every time we come to Hattiesburg, we are totally taken aback by the enthusiasm and coordination of its local musicians and fans,” Nahabedian said.

Drummer Paul DeGrandpre said the bands and community in Hattiesburg are always kind and helpful. He said the group spent 23 hours driving  from Los Angeles on their first visit to Hattiesburg.

DeGrandpre said touring with the group can be described as “Long periods of true garage truncated by brief shimmers of real beauty.”

“You kind of put yourself in a new world to get through it,” DeGrandpre said. “This tour we've all been putting on voices and characters. But I love it. I have a relatively professional job but they still let me tour. I have another band, too. So I'm working 60 hours a week and then practicing 4-5 nights every week too.”

For DeGrandpre, music is a way to cut loose after working so many weekly hours. To tour, he said, is to put all his work to the test.”

“Putting out records, doing art, writing the songs are all good for me,” DeGrandpre said. “It's the big release of actual years of effort for me.”

These reasons are why DeGrandpre takes his artistic endeavors seriously.

“It’s not a party for me,” he said. “I’ve gotten into arguments at shows from kinds who said, ‘Chill out, man, it’s just a party.’ And I'm like, ‘Dude, I'm in California. It took me 6 days just to drive out here. All I asked was you to not put your beer on my amp.’ It's a very real dream that I make a career, and I'm working every day to get there. That's really as simple as it gets.”

When asked if Dérive would return to Hattiesburg, DeGrandpre said they would likely come through again in the summer.

Noah Jacques diddlin' that bass at Spice World
Derek Ellis / Courtesy Photo

“Hattiesburg is almost always our favorite show on a tour, because people come out in force to see us and are really excited for the other bands on the bill,” said guitarist Paul Schmelz. “I think there's something about Hattiesburg punks that they're all really excited—that music is happening, and that's something that isn't as common as one would expect.”

Schmelz said the March 15 show’s tame atmosphere was certainly not a bad thing and that, at times, it’s respectful for audiences to allow each other to comfortably watch the bands they’re excited to see.

“And of course, there's something about playing a show where like half the people know most of the lyrics to most of your songs,” Schmelz said. “That's a kind of humbling experience I never seem to get over.”

DeGrandpre said Dérive’s future releases include “one in the chamber, two in progress and maybe a one-off thing just to do another release. For sure an EP and maybe even an LP.”

Needless to say, the Hattiesburg crowd has a lot of Dérive to look forward to—both live and in the punk bunker.

And as always, to be continued.

"Sweetheart" sings to soul - REVIEW

If I Die In Mississippi / Courtesy Photo

Cam Bonelli & Jack Hammett

Staff Reporters

On Feb. 4, Jonathan Hope of Hattiesburg lo-fi duo Jizz Kitten released a solo album titled “Sweetheart” under the moniker If I Die In Mississippi. The tape received acclaim from every which direction upon release, and its pull doesn’t seem to have a stopping point after getting much attention from DIY and, by extension, lo-fi communities and outlets.

The project’s name, If I Die In Mississippi, reaches the would-be listener deeply and immediately. The title seems to have been distilled from the music itself as it reflects the low guitar picking and warm tape noise that are present from the album’s onset. The name is a foreword of sorts, the beginning of a sentence the album finishes with “Detox,” an instrumental ellipsis that works its way into the listener’s darker head spaces.

In short, listening to this album is like living a dream underwater. To press play is to fall straight from one’s bed into the slow whirlpool of Hope’s lyrics and soon lose hope for resurfacing.

It takes multiple listens to catch the album’s every nuance, but one of the first things the listener will notice is Hope’s frankness and honesty. The words don’t dance circles around the subject matter and remain vague such that the songs can be interpreted in any way one chooses. Hope sends us reeling headfirst into his imagination without trying to shield us from the music’s core: song?

“Please don’t get weirded out by my overuse of exclamation marks in each text I send frantically / I swear I’m just genuinely excited to know you’re out there somewhere. / Maybe I’m a tad over enthusiastic about saying good morning / But I get the feeling that you don’t really hear it that often.”

If I Die In Mississippi / Courtesy Photo

Hope’s singing rests neatly inside the music, as his vocals are stylized in such a way that they almost warm your ears. The guitars peel their way through subtle tape noise and rain sounds to come out equally warm. That warmth quickly becomes the album’s trademark sound from the first few notes, like coffee on a cold morning, which is apt. The second song’s first lyrics are, “I want to drink coffee with you in the morning / Take you out for lunch when things get boring.”

Each element in Hope’s work serves specific purpose; nothing is accidental or filler. He meticulously constructs each song with genuine regard to how each sound fits — the lyrics, guitar, tonality and most notably, his voice. Hope’s lyrics reach the listener in the most vulnerable places, such as “The Castle Takes Time.”

“I’ve been talking to you by myself / in the driveway sometimes when I’m alone / and I’ve been wasting my life in my bed / hoping you would pick up the phone and it’s too bad.”

When watching Hope perform, the listener establishes an immediate connection the moment Hope opens his mouth.

The intimacy in Hope’s performance creates a bell jar around the listener and himself, as if you and he are the only ones in the room. Hope shuts everything out around him and looks to be swallowed by his own music. By disengaging, he in turn engages the audience, inviting them to watch as he constructs a beautiful microcosm of sound.

If I Die In Mississippi performing at Nick's Ice House
Photo: Cam Bonelli

No sound is too small to be forgotten as Hope employs the use of several instruments. He’s not just a musician playing music on stage. He creates an atmosphere that completely envelopes anyone who is watching and listening. Hope darts back and forth on stage to employ keyboard and guitar loops ultimately crafting the songs as opposed to merely playing them.

“Sweetheart” as a name perfectly defines the album’s tone as Hope’s music swells with nostalgia and sentimentality. This is not a typical low fidelity album. “Sweetheart” is a thing made, much in the spirit of William Carlos Williams’ artistic philosophy.

To listen to “Sweetheart” by If I Die In Mississippi, visit the If I Die In Mississippi Bandcamp page.
This story also appeared in The Student Printz.