She Had a Song to Sing

11/27/2019

Quarter Beat - November 2019

Image courtesy Estate of Leigh Harris

Beloved by her "Dawlin' New Orleans," Leigh Harris was renowned for both her powerhouse talent and her life affirming spirit.

- by Dar Wolnik
- photos by Kerry Maloney, Tom Redfield and the estate of Leigh Harris

In the modern world, news of a beloved icon’s passing inevitably is shared on social media, with scores of weeping emoticons and RIP’s flung up as the day progresses, usually ending within one news cycle. In the case of New Orleans singer Leigh “Little Queenie” Harris’ death on Sept. 21, this year, the tributes continued to pour out days, even weeks later. Her memorial concert was held this past weekend (Nov. 22) at Chickie Wah Wah's and a second line sent her off in style the following day.

The memorial concert and second line were organized by Harris' husband and son, Rick Ledbetter and Alex Harris Macdonald, Lenny Zenith, Holley Bendtsen, Jimmy Robinson, Stephanie Shilleci Ray and NOMAF.

The memorial concert at Chickie Wah Wah's. Photo by Tom Redfield

Lenny Zenith at mic. Photo by Tom Redfield

Alex Harris Macdonald, of the Daywalkers. Photo by Tom Redfield

L to R: Jan Clements, Darcy Malone, Holley Bendtsen. Photo by Tom Redfield

Two themes emerged in the tributes: the personal relationship hundreds had with her, sharing the gratitude they felt they owed her for a kindness she had done for them. Or, almost as profound, a deep and abiding admiration that all musicians and music-lovers had for her song list, personal style and life-affirming presence.

Harris fronted Li’L Queenie & the Percolators in the 1970s and early ‘80s, Mixed Knots, Little Queenie's Wahini Dakinis, and a few other bands with names that made it hard to keep track of her as the front person. Luckily, the local media loved her – great copy -- and wrote of her often.

She even made the New York Times in 1980, in an article predicting "big-time success," and adding that "Miss Harris has more voice, personality and stage presence than any other young performer this observer has encountered in a long, long time." You could almost always find her at Jazz Fest, usually performing with a dozen or more musicians and singers, getting as many talented friends as she could to share her spotlight. It was a party.

Her emergence with the Percolators coincided with my own teen-aged move to the French Quarter from the gritty, Midwestern garage-rock land where I had lived. A flyer on a telephone pole alerted me to this oddly-named group. I liked the name and the look of the flyer, so I went - and was hooked for life.

Even though physically tiny, Leigh ruled the stage with unflagging energy and a vocal style that could go from rocking to soulful to poignant in a flash. Her stage patter was hilarious, touching and - as they say for profane - “blue.” The musicians she played with were the best of their generation and of New Orleans and seemed to love to be on stage with her.

I noted her control of the direction and tempo of the performances that reminded me of the artful 1960s television work of Judy Garland performing at the top of her craft. Through a later email exchange with Leigh, I found out that she deeply admired Kay Thompson, the woman who helped fashion Garland’s stage work and had hoped to do an homage to Thompson at some point.

Two versions of "My Dawlin New Orleans"
the original and the version on the new Purple Heart album

I followed the Percs wherever they played when I could reach the venue by bike or streetcar and over time learned about New Orleans and all great music through their shows and their friends. There was often a punk edge to performances, even though R&B and blues were the main sound. I didn’t yet know about bands like The Cramps or X, but when I did find them, I nodded in recognition because of the Percolators.

Like so many of our legendary New Orleans musicians, Leigh stayed around town, maybe defined as “too New Orleans” by those who controlled the music industry, or likely just ignored by major labels who could not figure her out. Maybe she just didn't want to go; think John Boutte or Kermit Ruffins.

It is hard to believe she recorded only four full-length albums: House of Secrets, Polychrome Junction, Purple Heart, which includes her legendary “My Darlin’ New Orleans” and will remain a Carnival staple for generations to come, plus a live album. That was a Percolators album compiled from studio and live recordings and offering a permanent record of brilliance. It gives the opportunity to listen over and over to one of the treasures of her career, “I Gotta Song I Gotta Sing” and to bring me there again when I hear her shout, “We’re really glad to be here; Goddamn this is great!”

She also wrote and recorded with a wide swath of musicians on their own albums and compilations; check out “Providence Provides” (composed by Amasa Miller and Emmett Sheehan) on the James Booker tribute album as one transcendent example.* I wrote her to tell her how much I loved this song and she immediately wrote back to give fellow musician Larry Sieberth credit as a great collaborator. That response was typical of her, always recognizing others she felt lucky enough to work with.

Around 2002, I had the opportunity to hire musicians to perform at the Thursday American Can farmers market but with limited funds, certainly not enough to make the gig worthwhile to many. Though I expected a firm “no,” I immediately contacted Leigh thinking, “Wouldn’t that be amazing?” In my defense, I knew she was a faithful weekly shopper at the farmers market in those years, living just across Orleans Avenue.

She said yes immediately and asked for the space and funds for one other musician and a microphone. Ten minutes before she was to begin, she walked over with her highball drink, put it on the ground next to her, and wailed the mess out of the next 60 minutes as shoppers and farmers stopped in awe and disbelief to listen.

One shopper asked me with wide eyes and mouth open. “Is that… Li’L Queenie?” Are you fucking kidding me?”

At the end of her set, Harris sweetly thanked me for inviting her, chatted for a few minutes with her friends and admirers and then headed back to freshen her drink and get ready for her evening. From then on, that market had a vibe and an authenticity about it that I partly credit to Leigh’s performance.

Even while going through cancer treatment, she continued to perform, release music and visit with everyone and anyone at her post-Katrina home in Rural Hall, N. C., even making it back to New Orleans once in a while. Her 2014 “Waking Up in Dreamland” Kickstarter campaign was the last promise we had for another album of new work; sadly, the cancer diagnosis came along to interrupt its completion.

In the last few years, the sometimes-hopeful and often-agonizing updates on Facebook from her husband, her sister, her son and daughter-in-law and her many friends always gave a sense of a woman surrounded by love and music and comfort even as she battled through every crisis and diagnosis.

Little Queenie Second Line photographs by
Kerry Maloney for French Quarter Journal

Last fall, it was reported that she had entered hospice care and immediately the tributes to her poured in as if she was already gone. Her husband quickly admonished us all that she was still around and reading those messages, so don’t count her out yet. We were reminded once again of her will to live and her determination to make every moment count. True to her famous valor, she did just that for another year.

On the day that Leigh died, Susan Cowsill had a show at Chickie Wah Wah for the Covered in Vinyl series that she has done for years, this one featuring Jackson Browne’s music. I was out of town, but signed up via Facebook to listen online. Susan is another deep favorite, and someone I follow as fervently as I did her pal Leigh.

It was a classic CiV show, with Susan’s trademark quick wit, great musicians and astonishing voice. The next day, the news came that Leigh had died, likely while the show was happening. Somehow, the connection between that show and the news of Leigh gave me an uplifting feeling of life force flowing around and through New Orleans all the way to North Carolina and up to me waiting out the heat in Northeast Ohio. Connections.

The loss of a mother, a wife, a sister or a dear friend is what some have to process over the painful months ahead. But those of us who only knew her through performances or recordings, or a few treasured personal exchanges, will mourn the loss of our Li’L Queenie, too.

"Purple Heart" is a previously unreleased complete album by Leigh Harris featuring some of Louisiana's finest musicians. Click here to purchase the music.

*Leigh also sang "Providence Provides" on the all original CD by Holley Bendtsen and Amasa Miller, called "Our Songs."

Image courtesy Estate of Leigh Harris

Dar Wolnik and Nancy Ochsenschlager at the L'il Queenie second line

Dar Wolnik is a writer, blogger, activist and Girl Friday to her city of New Orleans. She has published essays and blogged for the last 20 years on reanimating public spaces, direct action democracy, the good food revolution, farmers markets, street life, and New Orleans - among other subjects. She works nationally as a trainer and writer for farmers market organizations.