The new album by Steve Riley and the Mamou Playboys is called Dominos, because it symbolizes the impact of previous generations on future generations. The album cover features the genetic and musical forebears and offspring of the Mamou Playboys. This document by Mamou fiddler David Greely gives song-by-song background on the historical figures whose compositions are on the album.

Ardoin Medley. The Ardoin family is a dynasty of accordion masters, the foremost of which was Amédé Ardoin. Amedé played and recorded in the twenties with Denis McGee, a White fiddler (whose music is also featured on the album). They worked in the fields around Chataigner, Louisiana side-by-side before they started playing music together. They were very popular at Black and White dance parties in the twenties, and even took the train to New Orleans to record some of the earliest '78s. I started to call them "Cajun" 78s, but that designation is debatable, since Amedé was Black and Denis was White. Amedé once went as far as New York City to record. Amedé's accordion playing, songwriting, and vocals were phenomenal, and he was loved by all who heard him, but he always had to be careful about becoming too familiar with the White people at the parties he was invited to. Finally, according to Denis, a White woman at a dance loaned him her handkerchief to wipe his brow, and several men from outside the area noticed it. They follow him after the dance and beat him so severely that he suffered brain damage, and died soon afterward. An old friend of mine, a White fiddler in his 80s, once brought out a chair from a back room and proudly announced, "Amédé Ardoin sat and played music in that chair." Bois Sec Ardoin, who is still living, is Amedé's cousin. We have spent quite a lot of time with him. He and the late Canray Fontenot, the great Creole fiddler, played and recorded together for probably more than 50 years. They never referred to their music as zydeco, or even Cajun music. They called it ‘French music.’ He takes life easy now, in the country on land that he owns, with his National Heritage Fellowship certificate hanging on the wall, and with his children and grandchildren living on the same gravel road near Mamou. Steve has recorded with him. His son, Morris, who plays fiddle, guitar, and accordion, is on the CD cover with us.

The Bachelor's Life. This is by D.L. Menard. D.L. is a songwriter and singer from Erath, Louisiana. In the ’60s, he was working in a gas station, writing a song between customers, and having to write the meaning of his song in English because he couldn't write in French. When the song, “The Back Door,” was recorded and released it was a huge hit in Louisiana. D.L. is a skinny man with big ears, an enormous voice, and an enormous personality who naturally becomes the center of attention, spreading laughter wherever he goes. His songwriting output is phenomenal. D.L. is on the cover with us.

Marie Has Died. From James Broussard, author of Louisiana Creole Dialect: "The poems in the text were written by an octoroon about 1860. The manuscript came into my possession many years ago through one of my students who reported that the author's name was Pierre. The tradition was that he was a negro of exceptional ability who was used in the plantation commissary. He lived apart from the other slaves, did his work efficiently and faithfully and was treated with especial kindness by the master. It was further stated that the other slaves avoided him and feared him and had their own notions as to his parentage. The family knew that he brooded over his fate and considered him "un peu fou" [a little crazy.] The impression was that he had learned to read and write "in a mysterious way." The manuscripts were found among his meager possessions after his death altogether with his young master's primary grade textbooks. I consider these poems a real find because they are of exceptional merit. "Vini Jilie" is a genuine lyric and "Cofé" is the appealing cry of a bewildered soul weeping in the night. All the poems reveal a decided poetic talent." Pierre lived within 20 miles of where I live today.

Napoleon B. Frugé. Both Steve and I knew Denis McGee (Steve much better than I), who wrote this song. He was not only half of the Black/White powerhouse with Amedé, but also a bridge to the pre-accordion era in Cajun music. His repertoire of ancient reels and waltzes was unique, and for many years he was the sole performer of dozens of melodies that would have disappeared without him. He died at the age of 96 in 1989.

Coulée Rodair. Canray Fontenot—who wrote this song—was a tall, skinny Black man with blue eyes and an enormous false-toothed smile. He was Bois-sec's partner, as well as a National Heritage Fellow, and has an album of solo field recordings out on Arhoolie. His fiddle style and vocals were incredibly inventive and bluesy, and he had a huge repertoire of old Creole music. He was very fond of his whisky. I saw his last performance in 1995 and it was stunning. He was 77 when he died two months later.

The Keys to the Prison. Elita Huffpauir was a strikingly pretty fifteen year-old when she sang this song for John and Alan Lomax in 1934. The contrast was striking between the modal European sound of the songs she learned from her father Julien and the heavy Black influence of songs like this one.

Wait Till I Finish Crying. Nolan Dugas—who wrote this—is the father of our drummer, and was once a popular fiddler, singer, and songwriter in this area. Several of his songs have become standards, and we hope this one does, as well. He no longer plays, but he'll sing a couple of his songs with us from time to time. He once said to me, when he cracked open a beer before noon, "I don't drink by the clock, me." He's on the cover, too: top right corner.

Mazurka. Varise Conner was a lumber jack and fiddler from Lake Arthur, Louisiana. He quit playing dances in the ’30s, because the money was so bad, but continued to play for his family. His fiddling was very elegant, sweet and well in-tune, and he carried a huge and obscure repertoire as well. I co-produced an album of his field recordings for Louisiana Folk Masters Records. I still play concerts of his music now and then, with his family accompanying me on fiddle and guitar.

Vorance Barzas is also on the CD cover. He sang and played drums in Dewey Balfa's band with Steve, and was one of the original Mamou Playboys, giving us permission to continue the name. He specializes in the old style of Cajun singing, high, shrill and loud, with no microphone necessary. An acquired taste. He still sits in with us once in a while, and is a great source for old lyrics.

Additional Info
Cajun Music So Old, It’s New: Steve Riley and the Mamou Playboys ...
Historical Figures on "Dominos": How the Mamou Playboys Draw On the ...
A Brief Timeline of Cajun History

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