C.C. Adcock ready for Rialto gig after sad visit to Big Easy

Swamp blues guitarist C.C. Adcock returned to his home in Lafayette, La., after visiting hurricane-ravaged New Orleans.

By Cathalena E. Burch
ARIZONA DAILY STAR

The scene in New Orleans was post-apocalyptic when swamp blues guitarist C.C. Adcock and his producer made their way over the Mississippi Bridge to New Orleans on Thursday.

"The city's devastated," he said by cell phone Friday. "It's awful what's going on. I can only tell you what my experience was."

Adcock called the Star just before noon to talk about his Tucson concert with Lucinda Williams at the Rialto Theatre this Friday.

"I have things on my mind. I'm not even at my house. I've got people at my house, and I'm out at the country," he said.

His home in Lafayette, La., two hours west of New Orleans, was spared Katrina's wrath. The storm swiped east; its impact in Lafayette, a city of just over 190,000, amounted to gusting winds and spotty power outages.

About 15 of Adcock's music friends from New Orleans sought refuge from Katrina at his so-called "Disgraceland" complex. Adcock, 33, has spent most of his life - since his early teens - playing professionally, including touring with legends like Bo Diddley.

On Monday, he, his producer, Mike Napolitano, and a friend, singer/songwriter Ani DiFranco, headed back to the Big Easy to see the devastation for themselves.

"The big problem - the lack of organization, lack of truth, the lack of concerted effort - was what let us in. We drove right in," Adcock said of being able to cross the Mississippi Bridge and freely drive into the storm-ravaged, almost ghost-town city.

"Nobody knows what's going on so you just keep driving. A police officer stopped us, and I was sure he was going to turn us back, but he said, 'I don't care where you're going; just don't come back this way.' "

The trio went to Napolitano's home in the French Quarter to retrieve some belongings and secure it from the inside. There was no damage to the residence, for now; Adcock said he wouldn't be surprised if it is eventually looted.

Besides going into the residence, the trio did not get out of the car to venture into the French Quarter.

"The good news was the French Quarter was intact. The French Quarter looked like the French Quarter," he said, then speculated aloud: "There will be a day in the not too distant future where you will be able to sit on a balcony in the French Quarter and have dinner or listen to music or go to Preservation Hall."

But the entire city had a "Day of the Dead" feel to it, he said.

"Everybody has a look in their eye. These are desperate people," Adcock said. "Cars, water, food are hot commodities right now. It's that horrible situation where if you try to help the problem, you become part of it."

Most of the stores and businesses in the French Quarter were unscathed by storm damage or looters. But on his way out of town, Adcock passed by an upscale shopping mall where looters had had a field day. He spotted two guys stuffing bananas and T-shirts in $5,000 Gucci bags.

Back at Disgraceland on Friday, Adcock said he and his musical refugees were faring well.

"It's almost sinful," he commented in what sounded like an apology. "We've been eating and cooking in the way that people in Louisiana do. Lots of hospitality. We been making pots of stews and things. Keeping the mimosas and beers coming so people can chill.

"It's this strange thing in Louisiana, the contradiction between dealing with the sorrow and moving on. You move on. You do life."