Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Reader's Picks

Top Recommendations

A short list of St. Louis's most popular hot spots.
user content provided by: LikeMe.net & Riverfront Times

National Features >

  • SF Weekly

    Turning the Tables

    "Hey, Mr. Deejay: Bend over and spread 'em."

    By Lois Beckett

  • City Pages

    Big Farma

    Meet the Minnesotans who receive federal subsidies for not growing anything.

    By Matt Snyders

  • Village Voice

    Rent-a-Wreck

    We begin our countdown of New York's Ten Worst Landlords.

    By Elizabeth Dwoskin

  • Broward-Palm Beach New Times

    The Grow House Murder

    The sweet smell of ganja was a dead giveaway. So was the dead body in the freezer.

    By Gail Shepherd

Dumpstaphunk

9 p.m. Friday, March 13. Old Rock House, 1200 South Seventh Street.

Share

  • rss

By Roy Kasten

Published on March 09, 2009 at 5:21pm

If the legendary, mad Mardi Gras injuns of the Wild Tchoupitoulas have a 21st-century equivalent, it's Ivan Neville's Dumpstaphunk. Started in 2003 as a side project by the acclaimed keyboard player (and son of Aaron Neville), the band has become one of the fiercest, hardest funk bands on the festival circuit. Strutting second-line rhythms bump booty with funkadelic shakedowns, saxophone skronk and freestyle MC interjections in an urban shock-out that rocks like a hurricane and preaches a fiery gospel of inner-city solidarity and renewal. "Don't let them haters piss you off!" shouts Neville on the Family Stone-esque "Shake It Off." "We just need some space to breathe." And space to stretch the nastiest grooves across what remains and what will be of the New Orleans landscape.