âMy favorite day of the year:â A Mardi Gras tradition at Callaghan’s
Some Mardi Gras traditions are big, old and deep. But even the ones that aren’t can be a blast, such as Grayson Capps’ annual Joe Cain Day performance at Callaghan’s Irish Social Club.
“It’s my favorite day of the year,” said Kathleen Howard, a regular who knew to get there early and stake out an outside table with a good view of the band’s performance through one of the open windows. (“We have a process,” she said of her group’s approach to the annual event.)
As traditions go, the show is a recent blip on the Carnival radar. Neither Capps, nor drummer John Milham, nor Callaghan’s owner John “J.T.” Thompson is sure exactly when it started, but Milham said he thinks it goes back to Capps’ release of a song titled “Ol’ Slac.” It was March 2011 when Capps dropped that ode to Joseph Stillwell Cain, aka Chief Slacabamorinico.
Beginning at the ending of the Civil War/ The Mobile Mardi Gras was no more
The Union soldiers occupied the town/ Wouldn’t let anybody party down
The Lost Cause Minstrels, into town they came,/ With a man dressed in feathers and a walking cane
Stole a coal wagon and an old gray mule/ Marched downtown despite the ridicule
Somebody tell me, what’s his name? Somebody tell me, what’s his name? Somebody tell me, what’s his name? Joe Cain!
What’s his name?
Joe Cain!
What’s his name?
Joe Cain!
So that’s just 14 years, minus at least one for the pandemic. But it depends on how you look at it. Cain did his thing back in the 1860s and Callaghan’s was founded in 1946, so there’s no shortage of history involved. At any rate, the song instantly joined the small but significant collection of tunes that specifically celebrate Mobile’s Mardi Gras traditions.
“I’m excited, because we have that song,” Capps said in a 2011 Press-Register interview. “I’m real psyched. It came out great, and it’s a sing-along type thing. It’s all about giving Mobile a Mardi Gras song. Sometimes it’s weird to do New Orleans Mardi Gras songs in Mobile. Joe Cain, you can’t deny him.”
It rapidly became tradition for Capps and his band to line up a short distance down Charleston Street and march to the venue, leading celebrants to the show. And that’s just what happened on Sunday afternoon, despite the challenges of a predicted washout and the competition posed by the Super Bowl.
In truth, given those factors, the crowd was merely respectable – not a mass gathering to rival St. Patrick’s Day. And while the band dominated during the game’s low-scoring first-half, the crowd conspicuously lost energy after halftime, as the big game approached a tense overtime conclusion. “This was a weird Joe Cain Day,” Thompson said afterward.
Still, a good time was had by all. Capps – backed here by guitarist Corky Hughes, drummer John Milham and bassist Rufus Ducote, with a guest appearance by trumpeter Chip Herrington – is known for gritty roots-rock that draws equally from the blues and the swamp. For a home-venue crowd, many of Capps’ originals, such as “Drink a Little Poison” became sing-alongs. The band also delivered some interesting covers, including the Beatles’ “Revolution.” At one point the band segued from the Rocky Horror track “Sweet Transvestite” into Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues,” a juxtaposition you don’t get every day; and when the halftime show hit the screens in the bar, Capps countered with some halftime music of his own, Prince’s “Purple Rain.”
Factor in a crowd resplendent in Mardi Gras attire – ranging from the beads of the casual parade-viewer to the full costumes of some who’d marched in the day’s Joe Cain Procession – and you had an appropriately chaotic environment.
While some preferred the comfort and lower volume level of the outdoor seating, the process was different for some. Glenda Campbell, who’d dressed up in Mardi Gras colors to dance the night away with friends a generation younger, spent the whole time on the front row. For her it was a return after being sidelined by illness.
“It’s my first year back,” she said. “I’m so happy.”