Live Review: The Hot 8 Brass Band, The Seven Ups, Papaya Tree

New Orleans is an infectious place, full of overwhelming sights and sounds that make even the most vanilla traveller get down and boogie. So, when the essence of New Orleans – the surfeit and the smiles – comes to town, it’s difficult to resist. The Hot 8 Brass Band are no doubt the quintessential New Orleans outfit: a cluster of sounds, a loose symbiosis and long lavish jams.

First, local band Papaya Tree kicked off the night at The Factory Theatre while a smattering of early comers nodded along or yelled over the unnecessarily loud tunes. This six-piece has the potential for bigger and better things as they appear to have grasped a fine balance between stage presence, synchronicity and sumptuous songs, all heavy with horns and oozing joy. Songs like Bamboo Schooner are testament to the happy-go-lucky vibe of this outfit.

Melbourne band The Seven Ups picked up the energy as fans spilled in. The deep grooves the seven-piece produced were hypnotic and high intensity. The horn section provided harmonious and experimental overtones while the rhythm section dragged us into the primal ooze of existence. Each song built to a crescendo as variations on simple patterns lead the listener into a state of rhythmic reverie.

Then, as the crowd filled out, The Hot 8 Brass Band took to the stage to the sound of squeals and yelps. This is a band that has the power to inspire and unite through outrageously fun and immersive songs. From the call and response of Let Me Do My Thing to the thrilling rendition of Sexual Healing, the music has few noticeable variations. It’s just soul food for the senses.

A bevy of brass instruments collided with parade percussion to create magic. This is music to dance to, music to move to, music to make you forget your worries. Of course, the Hot 8 themselves have had a cluster of tragedies rock them over their illustrious career; yet, the band keeps on keeping on, giving it their absolute all each time they perform.

This night in March (as revellers were waking up from Fat Tuesday over in NOLA) was no different. The band hammered out track after track in celebration of the sweet life, giving back as they have always done. The audience replied, under the spell of free-flowing libations, morphing into a menagerie of sweaty animals.