John “JoJo” Hermann is growing up. When Widespread came to town last October, the scene was identical to each of their annual North Chuck appearances over the last decade: parking lot Bud-shotguns, dirty guitar riffed, three sheets to the wind, heads cocked back, havin’-a-good-time-old-school Panic. JoJo loves the bunch, no doubt, but he’s also eager to showcase a mature “left hand” in a way that a guitar-driven rock band doesn’t quite allow. To that end he’s designed a five-night, solo piano run that comes to the Farm this Sunday.
Upon entering, don’t expect your usual grungy dance floor contingent crowding the stage. “It’s kind of like a date night, a lounge act kind of thing,” explains JoJo. “They’re setting up tables and tablecloths, get a nice bottle of wine, you know, kind of give the ears a break, everybody relax.”
Whoa. Fold down those collars, Spreadheads. Have a seat and let Mr. Mo JoJo take you back to old Nawlins. Turns out JoJo’s more than a rock star, he’s a jazz player, and he’s written a couple hundred originals that he’s ready to sample with some prime ivory tickling. “There’ll just be an upright piano, and I’ll be playing some old New Orleans standards mixed in with stuff I’ve written. I just want to do a little ‘pretend I’m Mose Allison’ kind of thing.”
Even in a dim, jazzy wine bar setting, expect JoJo to bring the boogie. When he’s playing with Panic, he keeps pictures of Art Neville and Dr. John on his keyboard. “Everytime we get into these long jams, sometimes I kind of get lost, and I just look at those pictures and they get me back on the right path.”
JoJo has long been an anchor for Panic, bringing them out of spacy exploration back into a tight, hip-shakin’ groove. One of the songs he shines on, “Greta,” was written by the whole band but he “kind of brought in the seedlings. I wrote the words in my shotgun shack in Mississippi. There were yellow jackets every time you walked in and out the front door, and you know, coyotes, and cows, so I just wrote a song for them.”
Hermann moved to Oxford, Miss., at age 24 after being born and raised in New York City. He lived in New Orleans for a “brief period,” renting a room from Michael Ray of the Cosmic Krewe, but soon moved to Atlanta to be closer to the Athens-based Panic. These days he lives with his family in Franklin, Tenn., but the soul he picked up in the bayou stays with him.
Despite his love for intimate solo performances, he doesn’t anticipate any other projects getting in the way of Widespread Panic. “We’re not ready to ride into the sunset yet. I’d like to keep this going for 10, 15 more years. I think we all do.”
When City Paper asked JoJo about his fantasy band, he said that among living folks Panic was the dream gig, but history may have played out differently for the Southern jam rock world if players — alive or deceased — were allowed in the dream. “Hall & Oates singing, Jimi Hendrix, Keith Moon on drums, on bass Jaco Pastorius, and Liberace.” So where does JoJo fall into the mix? “I’ll just stand there and get them drinks.” —Stratton Lawrence
JoJo Hermann headlines a solo show with opening act Sherman Ewing at the Music Farm (32 Ann St., 853-3276) on Sun. Dec. 3. 10 p.m Tickets are $14 ($12 adv.). See www.musicfarm.com for more.
Help keep the City Paper free.
No paywalls.
No subscription cost.
Free delivery at 800 locations.
Help support independent journalism by donating today.
