The marshy interior of southern Louisiana is home to a cuisine, language and sound all its own. Today, Cajun and Zydeco music, often sung in French, is enjoying a renaissance.
The idea that this country has become one big, bland, conformist culture, the United States of generica? Well, if you’re in search of a counterpoint, hang out, as we did, in the marshy interior of southern Louisiana. You need no passport to enter Cajun country, but it’s an exotic land like nowhere else, home to a cuisine, a language, a landscape, even a pacing all its own. And then, there’s the singular sound. Cajun music — and its cousin from across the way, Zydeco, resists easy description. But it is intoxicatingly catchy, often sung in French, and enjoying a most unlikely renaissance.
The sun is out and living is easy on the bayous of Louisiana. The fish are jumping — those are carp — and the cypress trees grow high.
On dry land, the music hangs in the humidity.
In Eunice, Louisiana, the Savoy family has lived on this patch of land for eight generations. Music is often a family inheritance down here, and you can think of the Savoys as the Von Trapp clan of Cajun country — Acadiana, as it’s known.
Joel is a Grammy-winning producer and musician, often accompanied by his brother, Wilson—also a Grammy winner.
Their father Marc, an accordion-maker by day, is a prominent musician in his own right, as is their mother, Ann, who once recorded with Linda Ronstadt.
Jon Wertheim: What defines the Cajun sound?
Wilson Savoy: Typically Cajun music has a Cajun accordion, fiddle, sung in Cajun French. They play two-step and waltzes. It’s got a very unique rhythm, very syncopated rhythm that you don’t hear in a lot of other kinds of music. It’s the syncopation that drives the music.
Ann Savoy: And it has a hauntingness about it, the music. And, it’s just got soul, you know.
These sounds are sourced from the unique blend of people that converged on Cajun country over the centuries.
Joel Savoy: The music is obviously born out of this swirl of different cultures. The accordion arrived with some part of the population. Fiddle arrived with different part of the population. The syncopation comes from people that we encountered here, the African Americans, the Creoles, the Spanish, things like that.
Joel Savoy: It’s also a social music. You know, anytime there’s music, there’s somebody hanging out, somebody cooking. These things just are part of life. It’s always inclusive. Maybe you’ll dance a few times. Who knows?
As we saw, when the sun sets in Acadiana, the volume turns way up.
This music is the soundtrack in dive bars, in night clubs, and the old French salles de danse — dance halls — that stud this landscape.
And while it’s not topping Billboard charts, the music is experiencing a resurgence as young audiences two-step once again, to those accordions, fiddles and wash-boards.
Chubby Carrier: You say Louisiana, the first thing to come outta their mouth is, « How is New Orleans? » I’m like, « I don’t know. I don’t live in New Orleans. » I live in southwest Louisiana.
Jon Wertheim: Totally different sound.
Chubby Carrier: A totally different sound.
Chubby Carrier is a Grammy-winning accordionist from Church Point, Louisiana. He tours with his group, The Bayou Swamp Band.
Chubby’s Zydeco is a relative of Cajun music, born out of the French-speaking Black Creole community.
Chubby Carrier: One time this couple came and goes, « Honey, you gotta come see this. That’s a Black gentleman with an accordion in his hand. I wonder if he plays polka, honey. »
Jon Wertheim: Polka, oh. You had a surprise for ’em.
Chubby Carrier: Oh, my goodness, and I seen that, and they came back. And when I seen ’em sittin’ there, I said, « Watch this. »
Chubby Carrier: I started playin’ my songs, and she started lookin’ over to her husband going, « Wow, this is great. » She starts doin’ this. (taps)
Jon Wertheim: She thought she was comin’ for Lawrence Welk, and she got you–
Chubby Carrier: Somethin’ like that.
Jourdan Thibodeaux is the frontman of the touring band Les Rôdailleurs.
