In the hallowed ranks of New Orleans “piano professors,” Jon
Cleary is on the tenure track. With his new release MO HIPPA
(FHQ Records), Cleary finally puts the sizzling energy of his live shows
on wax.
“The fact
is that the magic that happens in a live performance is unique and will
only happen once,” Cleary says. On MO HIPPA, that magic is captured. The
Absolute Monster Gentlemen are Cleary on piano; New Orleans natives
Derwin “Big D” Perkins on guitar and Cornell C. Williams on bass, both
ten-year vets of the band. While Cornell’s deep grooves and funky beat
anchor the grooves, Big D and Jon soar, with R&B licks that take the
best from island rhythms, jazz, funk and traditional New Orleans soul.
Cleary, born in England, is an adopted son of the Crescent City, who’s
five soul-soaked R&B funk albums with the Absolute Monster Gentlemen. As
a session man, he’s played with Taj Mahal, B.B. King and Bonnie Raitt,
to name a few, and is a longstanding member of Raitt’s touring band.
Musically, though, his heart and soul reside on the banks of the
Mississippi.
Recorded at the Vanguard club in Sydney, Australia, MO HIPPA shows
Cleary and his ace band stamping their signature, groove-laden style on
New Orleans classics like Professor Longhair’s iconic “Tipitina” and the
Meters’ funk masterpiece “People Say.” Originals like “C’mon Second
Line,” and “Port Street Blues” show the British-born Cleary’s fluency in
his adopted hometown’s idiom – as he slides from street-parade swagger
into soulful blues, he funks it up like a native. The smoking original
track “When U Get Back” is a singular example of Cleary’s eclectic
style: killer R&B infused with Caribbean funk, Cajun sizzle and a catchy
pop sensibility that infects the dance floor.
The closing track, the shack-shaking funk blues original “Mo Hippa,” is
a celebration of everything New Orleans, playfully challenging the rest
of the world to step to the Crescent City’s legendary and effortless
groove. The infectious energy in the Vanguard that night as the song
took over the room is audibly apparent on the recording. The audience
was “seated, and like many jazz club audiences they were a little polite
and almost seemed to be waiting for permission to move all the chairs
and tables out of the way,” Cleary remembers. “When it came time, we
gave them a gentle nudge and the next minute they were all getting down
and shaking it New Orleans style.”