Clifton Chenier

Clifton Chenier, the "King of Zydeco" who inspired toot-tootin' and foot stomping worldwide with his spirited Cajun accordion, has died at the age of 62. Chenier, who was severely diabetic and had required weekly kidney dialysis, died Saturday at Lafayette General Hospital. A hospital spokeswoman said the cause had not yet been determined. "He was the king of zydeco," said Lynn Boutin, manager of famed Mulate's Restaurant in Breaux Bridge, La., a bayou hamlet and frequent stop for zydeco bands.

Much as reggae did after Bob Marley's death, zydeco went through a period of adjustment and mourning after the 1987 death of its dominant figure, Clifton Chenier. Although such peers as the late Rockin' Dopsie and Buckwheat Zydeco carried on Chenier's pioneering blend of Cajun, blues and '50s R&B, they never fully captured the same vibrant sound. Now a crop of younger artists has arrived from Louisiana to create fresh excitement in zydeco with updated influences.

Blue Monday promoter Michael Kaufer has been bringing just about everybody who is anybody in zydeco music to Ventura County over the past few months. Wayne Toups was here, then Nathan Williams and noJ. Chenier is on the way to headline this week's Blue Monday presentation at Alexander's in Ventura. Chenier is the son of the king, the legendary Clifton Chenier. The senior Chenier wore a crown onstage and helped popularize zydeco music--he even coined the z-word.

There's going to be a whole lotta dancin' goin' on at Alexander's in Ventura when J. Chenier headlines the next Blue Monday gig. He usually comes to California twice a year. It's time. Chenier has zydeco in his veins--his father, Clifton Chenier, not only used to wear a crown on stage (he was "The King of Zydeco"), but actually invented the Z-word. The elder Chenier died in 1987, and his son inherited his accordion and his band, the Red Hot Louisiana Band.

If ever a musician had cause to feel beleaguered, it would be C.J. Chenier, son of the late Clifton Chenier. He has quite a bloodline to live up to. The elder Chenier pioneered zydeco music in the '50s, his accordion-fired stew of Cajun and R&B virtually defining the form, and the invention and zeal of his performances setting a nearly unattainable standard. Universally hailed as the King of Zydeco, Chenier often wore a crown during his performances--and it looked good on him.

There's going to be a whole lotta dancin' goin' on at Alexander's in Ventura when J. Chenier headlines the next Blue Monday gig. He usually comes to California twice a year. It's time. Chenier has zydeco in his veins--his father, Clifton Chenier, not only used to wear a crown on stage (he was "The King of Zydeco"), but actually invented the Z-word. The elder Chenier died in 1987, and his son inherited his accordion and his band, the Red Hot Louisiana Band.

The late Clifton Chenier sometimes donned a gaudy crown when he performed on stage, making like an Imperial Margarine commercial to emphasize his position as the king of zydeco, the spirited mix of R&B and Cajun folk music that has enjoyed a surge in popularity over the past year. But Chenier's son, C. J. Chenier, wanted no part of that as he prepared to make his debut leading his father's Red Hot Louisiana Band at the Music Machine on Friday.

The drama at the opening day Saturday of the third annual Los Angeles Cajun and Zydeco Festival should have been the face-off between two of zydeco's new-generation contenders. In one corner was C. J. Chenier, who in 1987 was bequeathed the accordion and the Red Hot Louisiana Band of his late father, the king of zydeco, Clifton Chenier. In the other corner was Nathan Williams, another favorite son from Lafayette, La., making his first West Coast appearance. The non-contest that ensued pointed up the folly of searching for dramatics at what is staged primarily as a gigantic back-yard barbecue, an event where the spirit of the dancing and the spiciness of the home-cooked jambalaya matter most.

In the summer of 1986 I was moving from Houston back to California and stopped in Austin to see Clifton Chenier and his Red Hot Louisiana Band at Antone's ("Remembering Clifton, the King of Zydeco," by Don Snowden, Dec. 20). I hadn't heard a single song by Chenier and his band, but knew the name courtesy of Marcia Ball and Buckwheat Zydeco. But what a show. He looked near 70 years old and just this side of death. He had to be helped on stage, and he took a seat and never said a word.

Much as reggae did after Bob Marley's death, zydeco went through a period of adjustment and mourning after the 1987 death of its dominant figure, Clifton Chenier. Although such peers as the late Rockin' Dopsie and Buckwheat Zydeco carried on Chenier's pioneering blend of Cajun, blues and '50s R&B, they never fully captured the same vibrant sound. Now a crop of younger artists has arrived from Louisiana to create fresh excitement in zydeco with updated influences.

Blue Monday promoter Michael Kaufer has been bringing just about everybody who is anybody in zydeco music to Ventura County over the past few months. Wayne Toups was here, then Nathan Williams and noJ. Chenier is on the way to headline this week's Blue Monday presentation at Alexander's in Ventura. Chenier is the son of the king, the legendary Clifton Chenier. The senior Chenier wore a crown onstage and helped popularize zydeco music--he even coined the z-word.

If ever a musician had cause to feel beleaguered, it would be C.J. Chenier, son of the late Clifton Chenier. He has quite a bloodline to live up to. The elder Chenier pioneered zydeco music in the '50s, his accordion-fired stew of Cajun and R&B virtually defining the form, and the invention and zeal of his performances setting a nearly unattainable standard. Universally hailed as the King of Zydeco, Chenier often wore a crown during his performances--and it looked good on him.

The drama at the opening day Saturday of the third annual Los Angeles Cajun and Zydeco Festival should have been the face-off between two of zydeco's new-generation contenders. In one corner was C. J. Chenier, who in 1987 was bequeathed the accordion and the Red Hot Louisiana Band of his late father, the king of zydeco, Clifton Chenier. In the other corner was Nathan Williams, another favorite son from Lafayette, La., making his first West Coast appearance. The non-contest that ensued pointed up the folly of searching for dramatics at what is staged primarily as a gigantic back-yard barbecue, an event where the spirit of the dancing and the spiciness of the home-cooked jambalaya matter most.

It's always tempting to scour the horizons of any musical genre for future figureheads--especially when the old leader has stepped out of the spotlight. That's why any hot young metal band is met with a tag of "the next Zeppelin," reggae performers contend with the moniker of "the next Bob Marley" and singer-songwriters continue to face the onus of being tabbed "the next Dylan." In the world of zydeco--the enticing, rhythmically effervescent branch of Cajun music--the throne that belonged for years to Clifton Chenier remains vacant, though there is certainly no shortage of contenders for the crown.

With her first major label album in years behind her and another in the works, her soulful 1960s rhythm-and-blues hits for Chess records seeing new light on re-releases and a streak of recent film soundtrack credits and on-screen singing roles, Etta James is enjoying a career upswing at age 51. "I'm doin' real well, but I don't look at it like I'm out of hard times," James said over the phone this week from her home in Los Angeles. "With me, I'm always going to pay dues. I don't say, 'I've paid my dues.

The late Clifton Chenier sometimes donned a gaudy crown when he performed on stage, making like an Imperial Margarine commercial to emphasize his position as the king of zydeco, the spirited mix of R&B and Cajun folk music that has enjoyed a surge in popularity over the past year. But Chenier's son, C. J. Chenier, wanted no part of that as he prepared to make his debut leading his father's Red Hot Louisiana Band at the Music Machine on Friday.

The only way Angelenos could get a true glimpse of the musical world of Clifton Chenier, who died last weekend at 62, was to attend one of the numerous benefit dances featuring the zydeco kingpin at Verbum Dei High School in South Central Los Angeles. Those performances had the ambiance of a Saturday night church social in Texas or Louisiana. They were held in the school gym, with rows of cafeteria tables flanking a long central strip extending to the elevated stage where the band set up.

With her first major label album in years behind her and another in the works, her soulful 1960s rhythm-and-blues hits for Chess records seeing new light on re-releases and a streak of recent film soundtrack credits and on-screen singing roles, Etta James is enjoying a career upswing at age 51. "I'm doin' real well, but I don't look at it like I'm out of hard times," James said over the phone this week from her home in Los Angeles. "With me, I'm always going to pay dues. I don't say, 'I've paid my dues.

In the summer of 1986 I was moving from Houston back to California and stopped in Austin to see Clifton Chenier and his Red Hot Louisiana Band at Antone's ("Remembering Clifton, the King of Zydeco," by Don Snowden, Dec. 20). I hadn't heard a single song by Chenier and his band, but knew the name courtesy of Marcia Ball and Buckwheat Zydeco. But what a show. He looked near 70 years old and just this side of death. He had to be helped on stage, and he took a seat and never said a word.

The only way Angelenos could get a true glimpse of the musical world of Clifton Chenier, who died last weekend at 62, was to attend one of the numerous benefit dances featuring the zydeco kingpin at Verbum Dei High School in South Central Los Angeles. Those performances had the ambiance of a Saturday night church social in Texas or Louisiana. They were held in the school gym, with rows of cafeteria tables flanking a long central strip extending to the elevated stage where the band set up.