Gumbo Gig

A Cajun festival in Simi Valley? Why ask why? Ask Lisa Haley instead. The Cajun fiddle player helped organize the Ninth Annual Cajun-Creole Music Festival, which unfolds this weekend. Haley & the Zydecats will play Saturday.

The two-day festival, featuring five bands each day, opens at 11 a.m. Saturday and Sunday with dance lessons to set the tone for the weekend. There also will be arts and crafts booths and food that includes jambalaya, alligator-on-a-stick, red beans and rice, seafood gumbo and spicy sausages. For the less adventurous, American food will be available.

The redheaded Haley is known as the “whirling dervish of violin,” a pretty serious description for anyone’s resume. Her band works a lot, causing serious outbreaks of dancing in their wake. She also gets jobs in films and commercials. Between gigs, Haley discussed the latest.

How did you get started?

I used to play with Queen Ida, and we’d play these huge festivals in Europe. But then we’d come back here and play a wedding in San Francisco, which just floored me. I played with Ida for a year and a half, but I got too much press and her manager fired me. Later, she hired me back, but then I got too busy with my own band.

Then what?

Next, I was in the Zydeco Party Band--the guys in Acadiana used to come to our shows before they started their own band. The reason the Zydeco Party Band didn’t end up with a major record deal was there were too many opinions in the band. But for what it was, it was a great band. I left to play my kind of music.

Which is?

I play real Cajun and zydeco songs, translated into English and with a beat kids will like. I like to call it “zydeco music for the 21st century.” It creates a phenomenon called “zydecosis,” a word I copyrighted. The symptoms are you begin to tap your feet, then your hands get going and you just have to stand up. There is no cure except to dance until the symptoms pass.

Why do you think zydeco and Cajun music is so popular in California?

After World War II, Cajuns moved west to Los Angeles, San Francisco and Sacramento, but zydeco is spreading everywhere. There’s all these Cajun dances everywhere now.

The heartland hasn’t gotten zydeco yet, but they will. People would move somewhere new and nothing would be happening. Then they’d meet a couple of friends on the Internet or wherever, then have a zydeco record party and spin some CDs. Then things would get bigger, and maybe they’d rent the Knights of Columbus Hall and charge two or three bucks to get in.

The final step is when some zydeco band calls, saying they’ll be traveling by the town and could they play? I’ve seen it happen from Canada to Florida and on the East Coast.

So you see this scene comparable to the swing dancers?

Sure. A lot of kids that are into the West Coast swing thing are getting into zydeco. They like the music, and it leads to dancing and you actually get to touch your partner. Cajun dancing is for people who don’t necessarily drink to oblivion. A lot of these people don’t drink alcohol, and venues are getting hip to that by selling bottled water and juices.

Why do you have more fans in Europe than you do here?

In our hometown of Long Beach, we’re nothing special. But in Europe we are American musicians and we have value. People know who Queen Ida and Buckwheat Zydeco are--they’re accepted American-roots musicians. Also in Europe, the accordion is a traditional instrument, while over here there’s the Lawrence Welk curse and people think we’re going to play polka music.

So you came from a musical family?

My dad could play a blade of grass. He could make it sound like anything. When he played his music from Louisiana and Arkansas--my mom called it ring-rang music--it wasn’t allowed in the house and we had to go to the garage. My mother wanted the family to step up and I was supposed to play classical music. When I was a kid, we moved to Los Angeles. We were the only family in the neighborhood that had two cars up on jacks.

Tell me a “Hillbillies” story.

I went to this audition for “The Beverly Hillbillies,” and they only wanted redheads. Director Penelope Spheeris was walking down the line checking everyone out and stopped at me and said, “Yeah, you look like a hick.” I said, “Thank you very much, I think.” And that’s how I got the role of Hortense Clampett.

Who goes to your gigs?

I’m amazed at the people who come to our shows. We have everybody from newborns to 90-year-olds. The other day, a guy 100 years old came. I danced a waltz with him in his wheelchair.

We get three categories of people: college kids who have migrated over to zydeco from West Coast Swing, baby boomers--lots of baby boomers--and we get the old folks because we remind them of the music they liked when they were kids.

So could the band play longer than the Grateful Dead?

No, not yet, but we recently discovered when we had two gigs at Disneyland that we had played 5 1/2 hours of music without repeating a song. My music is split--about 50% originals and the other 50% are 100-year-old Cajun and zydeco songs that have never been recorded. Zydeco music has taken over. Not everyone can carry a tune, but everyone can keep a beat.

What’s the deal on this festival?

I helped to get this thing going. One of my students who helped organize the festival used to drive from Simi Valley to Long Beach to take lessons. I’m so busy, I haven’t had time to teach for four years.

I remember the festival’s first year, there were just three bands, but it slowly grew. I’ve played in every one but one. The promoters are thorough and all the money goes to charity (projects of Rotary Simi Sunrise). It’s a great event, and I know the Cajun community from L.A. will be there.

This year the stage is huge. You can eat all sorts of good food like alligator-on-a-stick, or they have other stuff, too, in case you don’t want to eat anything with claws.

What was your strangest gig?

There’s been a lot of those. Let’s see. Oh, I know. We were supposed to be in this movie called “The Thing Called Love,” which happened to be one of River Phoenix’s last films. Anyway, we were on the set and Peter Bogdanovich was directing and he wasn’t very happy. Everyone was quarreling, totally discouraged and wanted to quit. They had been working all day on one scene and still couldn’t please the director. We had taken our places and waited and waited.

During a break, I started playing “Jambalaya” on my violin, and Bogdanovich snapped, “What’s that?” I said meekly, “A little Cajun music, sir?” He told me to keep playing. Later, we did our scene in one take.

BE THERE

Ninth Annual Cajun-Creole Music Festival, the corner of Tapo Canyon Road and Los Angeles Avenue, Simi Valley. 11 a.m.- 8 p.m. Saturday; 11 a.m.- 7 p.m. Sunday. $8 advance or $10 at the gate. (805) 520-4894.

Saturday: Eddie Baytos & the Nervis Brothers, 11:30 a.m.; Lisa Haley & the Zydecats, 1:10 p.m.; Acadiana, 2:50 p.m.; Lil Malcolm & the House Rockers, 4:45 p.m.; and Joe Simien & the Country Folks, 6:30 p.m.

Sunday: Crawdaddy, 11:30 a.m.; Bonne Musique Zydeco, 12:55 p.m.; Acadiana, 2:20 p.m.; Lil Malcolm & the House Rockers, 4:14 p.m.; and Tony Delafose & Friends, 5:45 p.m.