"It was magic music made
back then ..."

LEO NOCENTELLI
Interviewed By
Efram Turchick

Ultra-funky guitar-slinger Leo Nocentelli (of Meters’ fame, and much, much more) called Sundazed H.Q. January 22, 2002 to speak about his work — both with and without the Meters — on Lee Dorsey’s classic ‘60s Amy recordings for Allen Toussaint and Marshall Sehorn. Nocentelli noted that the Meters' role as Dorsey's backing band has been often exaggerated, so we asked him to set the record straight as to who played on what. Naturally, we couldn’t resist the opportunity to ask Nocentelli to fill in a few blanks regarding his own storied, on-going career as well!

How did you get hooked up with Marshall Sehorn and Allen Toussaint?
As an individual or with the Meters?

Was it as an individual first?
It was as an individual first. Before there was a Meters, I got introduced to Allen early in the game. I think he was just now getting to be associated with Marshall Sehorn. A couple of times I was playing with Danny White, he had such songs as “Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye” and “Loan Me Your Handkerchief.” They were huge, huge songs in New Orleans and he was a very prominent guy. Danny White had a car, and he used to bring his car to Lee Dorsey’s Body and Fender Shop. Lee Dorsey was a much better body and fender man than he was an artist! As a matter of fact, that kind of contributed to his death. Not that he was a body and fender man, but the fact that … Well, let me start from the beginning. That’s when I first met Marshall Sehorn, and I did some sessions with Toussaint before he even hooked up with Marshall Sehorn, we did “Ya Ya,” “Lottie Mo,” all those old Lee Dorsey songs when I was like 14 years old, 15 years old. The Meters wasn’t even nowhere near coming into play, you know?

Then Toussaint met up with Marshall and I started doing a lot of sessions, not only for Lee Dorsey, but for a lot of other people. I did a lot of songs with Ernie K-Doe, “Mother-In-Law,” and stuff like that. The Meters didn’t come into play until ... I would say the first thing I would do with the Meters as a group, when Allen started using the Meters, was a song called “Everything I Do Gonh Be Funky.” And we did another song called “Yes We Can.” At the whole, the Meters’ involvement in terms of Allen and especially Lee Dorsey was very minimal. I would say 90% of the songs were just done by myself.

Some of the early stuff I remember is “Working In The Coal Mine,” “Get Out Of My Life, Woman,” “Ride Your Pony” and a couple of songs that wasn’t as popular. “Working In The Coal Mine,” the bass player, his name was Walter Peyton. And he used a drummer by the name of June Gardner. June Gardner was the drummer for Sam Cooke. And he used George Davis, you know George Davis? He also played guitar and played bass. In terms of the rhythm, that was the nucleus of Allen Toussaint’s studio band. “Working In The Coal Mine” and “Get Out Of My Life, Woman” — I was in the Army and came in on two weeks of leave, Allen found out I was in town, and I did that. I didn’t play on everything that Lee Dorsey did, you know what I mean? It’s impossible for a person to play on everything. But what I’m trying to convey is that all the stuff the Meters is getting credited for, and getting notoriety for, is not a fact. And that is wrong.

What do you remember about working with Lee?
Well, Lee was a great guy, man. Even when he had the hits out he still had his body and fender place. I used to bring my car there and get the dents knocked out, and he’d repaint the car, stuff like that. Like I mentioned earlier, that had a lot to do with his death. He was a great person and he did great work, but he didn’t protect himself very well in terms of wearing a mask and stuff. Lee died, basically, of emphysema. He smoked a lot, and I think the inhalation of the paint and the fumes, toxic paint went into his lungs. And I think that had a lot to do — I’m not saying that was the main reason, but I think that had a lot to do with his illness, you know?

But Lee and I used to hang out sometimes. He used to take me riding on his motorbike. He used to be a Harley Davidson guy. And we used to go right to taking a ride sometimes and we got to be real close, especially during the latter part of his life. I would go to his body and fender shop, and Lee would be in the back of some station wagon … he had had an accident with his motorcycle, and he had broken both of his legs, and here is Lee in back of this station wagon, with both of his legs in casts, he couldn’t move. He was a strong little guy, man! He was about 5’ 1’’, 5’ 2’’, a real short guy, little bitty person; man, he must have weighed about 100 pounds! But he used to be a boxer, and he was the toughest little man I ever seen in my life, he was like hard as a rock! He used to ride around in his Cadillac’s and his Harley Davidson’s and make appearances going out on the town, you know? He was very flamboyant, out-going guy.

What are some of your favorite songs with Lee?
I really liked playing on “Yes We Can” because of the style I played, a kind of ticking, almost like a banjo type of sound. If you listen to the guitar, it’s a lot of staccato notes that Toussaint had me play. I really liked “Working In The Coal Mine.” Allen Toussaint was writing all the notes, everything you hear on those songs was written out. Every note! There wasn’t any improvisation there. And that astounded me to see Walter Peyton read that stuff . It was a real complicated and intricate bass line, and to think that a guy was reading that, just sight-reading, amazed me.

Was that Toussaint’s working method for the band all through …?
Yes, Toussaint was a very schooled musician, and I would say in the early days everything was written out. During the latter times, like when I did “Lady Marmalade,” I did Robert Palmer’s “Sneaking Sally Through The Alley,” he kind of got into the thing where he’d let the musicians play what they wanted to play.

How did the Meters begin working with Tousaint?
Every band used to play this song called “Hold It,” they used to open up their sets with it. I got sick of this song, you know; every band I played with played the same shit! I said to myself, "I’m going to write a song that hopefully one day will take the place of 'Hold It.'” So I went into my little garage studio and I started picking out a song, and eventually a song came out. We were playing at a club called the Avenue on the French Quarter six nights a week. And we were opening up with “Hold It” also, so I introduced a song, a melody, to George [Porter], Art [Neville] and Zig [Modeliste] and we started playing it to open up the set. That’s how the Meters really started recording as the Meters. Toussaint used to come there and check out the band, he used to love the band. So the song that we opened up with, he asked, “What was that? What was that song? Have you guys recorded the song before?” And I told him, “I just introduced it to the guys and we just started playing it.” And he said, “Would you guys like to record the song?” Toussaint came up with the name for the song, and that’s how “Cissy Strut” came to be alive.

Do you remember some of the other artists that you worked with? Betty Harris, maybe?
Oh yeah, Betty Harris had a song I did called “Nearer To You,” which the Meters wasn’t involved with at all. Uh … lessee, who else … Ernie K-Doe, “Mother-In-Law,” did a lot of stuff with Irma Thomas, I don’t remember the particular songs. There was so many people he was doing, people that was coming in from England, Jesse Roden I remember, he was an English guy. Toussaint was getting a lot of production deals from England, and some of the people I really never heard of in my life! The biggest thing I think he was involved with was when Patti LaBelle came out with “Lady Marmalade.” And the musicians on that was actually … the drums on that was Herman Ernest. On “Lady Marmalade,” myself, I think George played on that, George Porter. And then Robert Palmer came in and we did “Sneaking Sally Through The Alley.” That might have been one of the few times that all four Meters was involved, in actuality. You see, what it is, is Toussaint ... there was always problems, especially with Zig and Toussaint. So he would barely use Zig, because there was some kind of friction there.

One of the rare times that all of the Meters performed was with Robert Palmer, “Sneaking Sally Through The Alley.” I remember it well, because it was the first time I met Lowell George. I brought Lowell George in to play slide on the album, and that was a great experience. I said, “Listen man, we’ll do some tracks for you, you do some tracks with us.” So we played on a few tracks that he was getting ready to produce and introduce to Little Feat, and he played on a couple of things that we did. That’s Lowell George playing slide on a song called “Just Kissed My Baby” on Rejuvenation. But that was one of the rare times that all four Meters … also, we did one other thing. Well, we’re getting off of Lee Dorsey, but I’m just trying to let you see exactly what the Meters did. The Meters did “Right Place Wrong Time,” we did like three albums with Dr. John. And that was a time when Toussaint was using the Meters, was during that time. But the Lee Dorsey stuff, that wasn’t the case. The Lee Dorsey stuff, the Meters was used very sparingly.

Earl King said that Toussaint wouldn’t let the guitar players play more than rhythmic “chink-chink-chinks.” Was that the case with you?
Yeah, I would say so. To say whether or not that was a bad thing or a good thing, I don’t know why Earl said that, I don’t know if he referred to that he wanted to play more, or whatever, but I think what the guy did, man, it speaks for itself. The guy is a great producer, he’s a great writer, and to condemn … I would never condemn anything like that, because it worked, so whatever worked … I mean that was the right thing to do.

Did that have an influence on your style?
It might have, because it definitely was a more rhythmic thing. That’s my forte, you know, that’s what I do best. It might have given me some insight into my guitar playing, in terms of the rhythm aspect.

How did you come to play the Fender Starcaster?
It was mainly by accident, because our early stuff, “The Cissy Strut” and stuff like that was done on a big 175 hollowbody Gibson, you know? I was playing a lot of jazz at the time. I saw the guitar in a store in New Orleans in 1974, and it just looked so appealing, man! And at that time I started playing some rock stuff and was looking to pull the strings a little more and start to get a little more sustain, and you had to get real strong pick-ups to do that. So this guitar fit the mold that I had in mind, and I liked the shape of the guitar, and also it had two humbuckers that gave it the power to give the overdrive; it was a semi-hollow guitar. It was a beautiful guitar, man! I still have it. It was like Fender’s version of the Gibson 335. And it didn’t sell well, man. They ran it for two years, and the guitar never took off. I played it from then until now. I’m not playing it anymore, because I kind of retired it. I was endorsing Fender for a while, and I thought they would make a signature model for me, but they didn’t. I left Fender, and now I’m endorsing Gibson. I use a 335 now. I find that’s kind of comparable to the Fender Starcaster.

What was the atmosphere like at Cosimo Matassa’s studio? It sounds like you guys were having a lot of fun!
No doubt, no doubt! I mean, I caught myself as a young guy, 14 or 15 years old, man, playing with some of the most stellar guys in New Orleans, people that I was in awe of! Here I am in the studio with these guys, people like Smokey Johnson and Red Tyler, Nat Perillat, George Davis, Walter Peyton, June Gardner, all these people were premier musicians. When I was coming up I used to hear about them. It was good music, and if you’re playing good music, it has to be fun. And the fun part just came automatically, because it was magic music made back then.