by RUPERT BOTTENBERG

Mr. Quintron and Miss Pussycat would be originals anywhere they settled. They’re unique in their one-two punch—Quintron’s voodoo brew of raunchy soul-punk organ grind and lo-fi, jerry-rigged beats (Swamp Tech is the telling title of the duo’s new CD) alongside Miss Pussycat’s technicolour puppet parade (a DVD of her new short puppet film Electric Swamp accompanies the CD).

But the pair are, proudly and defiantly, New Orleans originals. So is the Spellcaster Lodge, their “illegal, underground, all-ages speakeasy” (Quintron’s description) in the Ninth Ward. The beautiful, badass basement space, which has hosted Peaches, the Make Up, Jon Spencer and Andre Williams, is currently—to borrow an ominous older Quintron song title—the “Underwater Dance Club.” But it’ll take more than a hurricane to sink these two.

Mirror: I understand that about a week ago, you did a CD launch at One Eyed Jack’s in the French Quarter in New Orleans.

Quintron: There were over 300 people who came out of I don’t even fucking know where, and it blew my mind. We were like, “We have to play in New Orleans, it’s our record release party and it’s part of our obligation to not let this city die.” It was out-the-door packed—Red Cross workers, and FEMA inspectors (laughs), all of the typical New Orleans people too, all the rock ’n’ roll people—and then these weird Navy guys from Massachusetts. It was a great, great, great show, a very cathartic release. All we’ve been doing for the last two months is ripping out sheet rock, repairing the roof, crying at the television and going through hell, basically. We’ve hardly even played at all.

M: Where do things stand for the Spellcaster Lodge?

Q: It has about three feet of water—we live upstairs and the club is downstairs. The club will have to be gutted and rebuilt, but only as far the studs. The structure is fine, but all the furniture and walls need to be replaced. But thanks to the love and generosity of our friends, fans and fellow musicians, we’ve gotten donations of everything from clothing to $1,000 cheques to construction materials, so we’re gonna be able to rebuild it—without the federal government or any insurance, so ha ha.

Soul survivors

M: I’ve been noticing the unofficial thoughts—those of real-life New Orleans citizens and not politicians and TV talking heads—and for all the sorrow and despair, I’ve also noticed so much defiance and even hope, a sense that the city can and will be rebuilt—better than before, better grounded environmentally and economically.

Q: There’s a perfect opportunity to do that. The slate has been wiped clean, your sheet rock is gone. Take out the nasty—I’m speaking metaphorically, but your walls are bare now, maybe what you had there in the first place should be replaced with something more suited to the lake bottom we live in. Maybe you should re-spike your studs to your silt, because they were wobbly in the first place. Now’s your chance.

M: That’s the recurring theme—building better while keeping what was so great about New Orleans, the creative arts and just the spirit of the city.

Q: That’s not going to go away. New Orleans isn’t like some hipster part of town that’s got a couple of cool stores and some funky people and one great club. Every fucking soul that is able to tolerate that dysfunctional, beautiful place makes it what it is. It can’t go away, there’s no way. You’d have to kill everybody that ever lived there to get rid of the soul of New Orleans.

Remember the wetlands

M: The most important question for my readership, I think, is, how can we help? Beyond the benefit concerts and donations, I mean, which are a very short-term help. What do you think?

Q: I would say, in a general sense, when you hear about issues such as coastal erosion in Louisiana, if you live anywhere in North America, you should be concerned about that ecosystem as a part of your life, and how it affects the entire continent. It really does. We’ve let, as a nation—politicians and people—those beautiful, natural coastal wetlands deteriorate and die. If people would just think more about those things when they voted. It’s not like a hippie-dippy, liberal, save-the-birds thing either. The fishing industry depends on those wetlands, the protection of New Orleans from the storm systems, all that Cajun culture—the oil industry used to, then they helped destroy it and left it. I mean, support New Orleans music and culture, vacation there, go to Mardi Gras, give us your money—that’s all obvious, but if I have this one little venue to speak to a small part of the world and make them know about something they wouldn’t otherwise, it’s the state of the wetlands. It’s something they’re not fucking talking about, and it’s a huge part of why this all happened.

Concert and film projection, with guests Harry Merry and No Dynamics, at Zoobizarre on Sunday and
Monday, Nov. 6-7, 9 p.m., $10

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