Cover Story: Their Roots Are Showing

A funny thing happened to Robin and Joani Lacy on their way to fame and fortune

Feb 2, 2005 at 2:06 pm
Sean Hughes


Still crazy after all these years (from top): Robin Lacy, on couch back, in high school; in Time Piece in the mid-'70s with Joani; and in the first DeZydeco lineup in 1989.

Joe Polen wails on saxophone as Robin and Joani Lacy (here and opposite page) work up a sweat at the Blue Note.



First you hear the beat. It's a shuffling snare and a bass drum thumping in places you don't expect it to. Then it's jangling percussion from Joani Lacy scraping spoon handles across a metal rubboard. Electric guitar, bass and sax come in underneath, and the train starts chugging out of the station.

Finally Robin Lacy steps to the front of the stage, flips back his blond hair, lets out a little whoop and starts squeezing his accordian in and out in short bursts. He taps his toes to the rhythm and smiles. It's hard not to do the same yourself.

Close your eyes, and you might be at the Maple Leaf or Tipitina's or any small club in New Orleans sipping an Abita and wondering when the next Mardi Gras parade is coming by.

Instead, you're at the Blue Note in Price Hill nursing a Bud and thinking, "Isn't Mardi Gras coming up?"

In fact it is, meaning Robin and Joani Lacy and their bandmates will be cranking over the next week.

On the other 51 weeks of the year, they'll play festivals, private parties and the occasional club date, plying their trade as the best Zydeco band in Cincinnati. Make that the only Zydeco band in Cincinnati.

A professional musician since the day he graduated Oak Hills High School 33 years ago, Robin has been used to playing in bands that caught the public's fancy by giving clubgoers what they wanted to hear: R&B dance, Top 40, Disco, New Wave. The only reason he even considered forming a Zydeco band was that he thought, in the late '80s, it was going to be the next big thing.

For Robin and Joani — who met in the mid-'70s at a band audition — music was going to be their ticket to the good life. It's all they knew and all they ever wanted to do. And if Zydeco helped punch that ticket, so be it.

But a funny thing happened on the way to fame and fortune. They fell in love with the music.

So even though reality has encroached on their hopes and dreams, it doesn't really matter. At their age — Robin turns 50 in April, Joani is a few years older — they've decided to focus on becoming better musicians while spreading the Zydeco gospel to nonbelievers.

Which is why they're playing to 30 people at the Blue Note, many of whom they know by name.

"There's something about this music that connects with people," Robin says, shaking his head. "People have written us letters telling us our music saved their lives. Literally. That's pretty awesome."

"Eventually you realize you can't give it up," Joani adds. "Playing music for audiences is your life, and you can't do anything else. Sometimes you wonder if you're not losers, though, sticking with it for so long. It's like an addiction."

'This is it'
Trying to build lives and careers, Robin and Joani Lacy's performance tastes have swung with the breeze. When dance Rock and R&B were popular, that's the kind of bands they joined. When New Wave was the thing in the '80s, Robin did that. Joani sang vocal standards at The Celestial when the classy lounge thing became big.

After forming yet another band in the late '80s, Robin remembers hitting on a new idea. He'd read a Rolling Stone interview with Buckwheat Zydeco, who was the face of a resurgent interest in the traditional Louisiana music called Zydeco. If Rolling Stone was writing about this, Robin thought, maybe Zydeco was on the verge of a breakout and maybe he and his new band ought to get in on the ground floor.

Only problem was he'd never heard Zydeco. Didn't know anything about it.

So while the new band started down a Classic Rock path, Robin kept thinking about this Zydeco concept. Did some more reading about it, tried unsuccessfully to find some music, kept bugging Joani about it.

Finally, Joani's sister and brother-in-law suggested Robin head down to New Orleans and find out about Zydeco for himself. So he and Joani made their first pilgrimage to Louisiana — and, as happens so often, it changed their lives.

"We'd never been to New Orleans, so we were just sort of wandering around, meeting people," Joani says. "We asked people where we could hear Zydeco, and someone recommended the Maple Leaf. Turned out Rockin' Doopsie was playing there that night."

She does a quick inhaling sound, the kind you make when you're shocked or surprised.

"That was it," she says, slapping the table in front of her. "We were hooked."

Robin brought tapes back from New Orleans and announced to his bandmates, "We're going to be a Zydeco band, fellas." Amazingly, they didn't quit on him.

The group — which included Mike Herrman, Jeff Monroe and Vernay Rhinedollar — was game to try something different, and Robin Lacy & DeZydeco was born. A drummer throughout his teens and twenties, Robin helped everyone learn the tricky New Orleans beat. The big problem was the music's signature instrument, the accordian.

"The only people in Cincinnati who could play the accordian were German musicians," Robin says, "so we had a few German guys play with us who could fake what we were doing pretty well. But they'd bail on us when they'd get a good-paying oom-pah gig. So I decided I had to be the accordianist myself."

Like every other instrument he plays, Robin says, he taught himself the accordian. And like every other instrument he plays, he calls himself "not very good but servicable" on it.

Ever the marketer, Robin saw an opportunity to fuse the dance Rock he'd been playing for years with this new Zydeco twist and draw audiences who wanted to dance and be part of a new national trend.

"I wanted to do familiar Blues and Rock songs in a Zydeco style," he says. "Maybe even some Hank Williams and old Country that might fit the sound. And of course throw in Louisiana songs, too, and our own stuff."

Joani, who hadn't played music with Robin since they'd gotten married almost 10 years before, became involved in the new venture as well.

"At first I told Robin he needed a rubboard player, so I taught myself how to do that," she says.

"I said, 'OK, but it's my band so you can't tell me what to do,' " Robin says, and they crack up at the memory.

"Then I said I could sing a little back-up and maybe do some Patsy Cline songs," she says. "He couldn't get rid of me."

As the '90s dawned, the band was tight, confident and miles apart from what Cincinnati music audiences were used to. Robin and Joani were poised to ride the Zydeco wave to the big time.

They're still waiting.

But like many local musicians — and Cincinnati artists in general — their journey has been worth the effort even if they haven't reached the final destination.

Robin and Joani talk of opening slots at local concerts by all of Zydeco's greats, from Buckwheat Zydeco to Zachary Richard to Boozoo Chavis the year before he died. Even though they often felt like Ohio pretenders, the Lacys are still amazed at how welcoming and supportive the living legends were.

"They genuinely liked our band," Robin says, smiling. "They liked that we're promoting Zydeco here in this part of the country, and they've never been condescending toward us. Of course we soaked up everything we could about the music."

And the Delhi boy even taught the big boys a thing or two.

"We opened for Steve Riley (and the Mamou Playboys), and he came up to me later and wanted me to tell him about the 'show' stuff I do," Robin says. "You know, how I move my hands and feet, how I'm a showman on stage. These guys have been playing Zydeco their whole lives and let the music speak for itself. Steve said he didn't know much about entertaining a crowd."

Robin and Joani run through a bunch of other memories they hold dear. The time Buckwheat Zydeco called out to the audience while playing the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival, "There's my good friend Robin Lacy!" Hanging out with Buckwheat every year during Jazz Fest, when they stay at a Garden District apartment they lease through a time share arrangement.

Travelling down to Eunice, La., home of Mark Savoy, famous in his home state for building and repairing accordians — including Robin's. Savoy invited the Lacys to join him at a crawfish boil at his home, and the party featured a house band with Michael Doucet, leader of the reknowned traditional Cajun group Beausoleil.

Playing at a downtown hotel the night before the Bengals hosted the New Orleans Saints, when Saints owner Tom Benson and his entourage partied late into the night dancing to the band. Benson later invited Robin, Joani and the band to come down to New Orleans to play a private New Year's Eve party he was throwing, which could have provided a real foot in the door in Zydeco's backyard.

Robin declined, because he'd already committed to playing the city's New Year's Eve party on Fountain Square and preferred building an audience in his home town.

"He thought it'd be our big break," Joani says, laughing as she pushes Robin on the shoulder. "Instead it was one of many missed opportunities over the years."

"Turns out it was freezing cold on New Year's Eve," Robin says. "Not that many people came out. The next day I saw some TV coverage of the event and the reporter said, 'People are having lots of fun dancing to a band.' "

They also relish their retreat every Tuesday night to the small studios of WAIF (88.7 FM) to host Crawfish Fiesta, the long-running Louisiana music program. They took over the show in 1995 from Neil Sharrow, who started it back in '83.

"The band is only as good as our last gig, and so we're always up and down with how we feel we're doing as performers," Robin says. "But Crawfish Fiesta is a place to come for a few hours and play the music we love and hang out and talk with friends and fans who call in. It's a sanctuary."

The rest of the time, Robin is running the band. He used to have a manager, but for frugality and control purposes he does it himself now — book performances, including a new weekly acoustic gig at La Normandie downtown; manage the Web site (robinlacy.com); sell shirts, voodoo dolls and CDs (the most recent is 2003's Have No Fear); look after the equipment truck; and whatever it takes.

Joani has been a court reporter for 20 years now, working as a freelancer to provide freedom to schedule around shows and out-of-town trips. Robin keeps the band — and the dream — going.

"My father has said to me at various times over the years, 'Robin, what are you going to do with your life?" he says. "I always answered, 'This is it, Dad.' Not that long ago he asked me again. And I said, 'Uh, Dad, this is pretty much it.' I don't see myself changing after all this time."

'Drink it or wear it'
Robin Lacy isn't the first Cincinnatian to get hooked on Rock & Roll in high school. He played drums in a few bands here and there and hung out in Clifton bars on the weekends watching other bands.

He'd met up with some older guys who were playing Progressive Rock (mostly Yes covers) but wanted to change to a dance band. Not long after graduating from Oak Hills High in 1972, Robin and the new band hit the road to play Holiday Inns for weeks at a time. He was gone for three years.

Then came a gig with a Glitter Rock band that played David Bowie and dressed in a Ziggy Stardust/ New York Dolls Glam style. When that band decided to break up, Robin was invited to audition for a new touring dance band that Joani was in.

"I was living in Columbus at the time, and an agent there was putting together a band and I was hired to be the girl singer," says Joani, who grew up in a small town near Findlay, Ohio. "Our bass player happened to see Robin's band in Columbus one night because he'd heard Robin was a good drummer and we needed a drummer. Plus Robin sang in this high falsetto back then, which the agent thought would be good for us."

"I got invited to come the next day and audition for them," Robin says, picking up the story. "We were only supposed to be in Columbus one night for our show, so I told the guys to go ahead to wherever our next gig was and I'd catch up later. I didn't have any other clothes, so I showed up at the audition with my weird glam clothes and my fingernail polish and mascara on from the night before."

"I was at the audition," Joani says. "I liked him right away."

Robin was hired, and the band rehearsed for a month in Columbus — and then promptly broke up before hitting the road.

Robin and Joani were a couple by then and weren't ready to give up life on the road, so they quickly formed another band, Time Piece, and played hotel lounges and nightclubs steadily for the next six years.

As Joani approached turning 30, though, she considered the inevitable "settling down." Having spent time with Robin's family and friends whenever the band played Cincinnati, she decided they'd make this their new home.

They rented their first apartment together in 1980 on West Eighth Street in Price Hill. Joani began classes at UC to study court reporting. They were married in September 1981.

Robin continued playing in a series of bands, finally coming out from behind the drums to be lead singer with The Untouchables, a dance band that toured the Midwest. Then came a gig with the house band at Easy Street, a popular Top 40 Rock club in Sharonville. Then there was Modern Pink, which played original songs in a New Wave style at The Plaza near UC.

Finally, in the mid- to late-'80s, Robin fronted the house band at The Islands, the happening barge spot on Newport's riverfront. He went to Louisville when the barge was moved there, playing six nights a week for six months and commuting back to Cincinnati on Mondays.

Joani, meanwhile, stepped away from music except for a stint singing old Pop standards at The Celestial in Mount Adams.

Somehow — despite Robin's constant presence in bars and long stretches on the road — their marriage survived and he never lost his love of the music biz.

"A lot of friends over the years succumbed to the alcohol, the drugs, the women, the whole bar scene," Robin says. "I remember especially during my years at Easy Street, I was 22, 23 years old, and these biker guys were hanging out and after every set they'd give me a tequila and a beer. Every set, six nights a week. They'd say, 'Drink or it or wear it.' I drank it for a long time, but finally I just decided I couldn't do it anymore, so I started turning them down — at least toward the end of the evening. So they'd just dump it on me, and I'd come home smelling like tequila and beer and everything else."

Among other lessons, Robin says he learned to respect his role as an entertainer.

"Playing in Holiday Inns back in the '70s teaches you discipline," he says. "I worked with older guys, and we had to stay on schedule, had specific bathroom breaks and all. I even got a musician's union card. Even now, when we play festivals or such, we're very professional. We don't fart around. I don't know, maybe I'm old-fashioned.

"I might not be a great musician, but I'm a professional. It's my job. It's my career. And I treat it seriously."

'Never happens'
When DeZydeco was ready to play out in 1989, Robin secured a few weekday shows at area clubs. After a while, the owner of Dollar Bill's in Corryville (now Martino's on Vine) gave them a shot at a regular gig.

When they started drawing decent crowds, the band was paid $175 to play every Wednesday. Split six ways, it wasn't great money — but it was guaranteed and it was regular.

They've played just about every notable Cincinnati area club over the subsequent 15 years, with memorable stints at Cory's (now Mad Frog) and Sudsy Malone's. Band members have come and gone — including Scott Covrett, Karen Addie and Ricky Nye, among others — and Robin and Joani have tweaked the musical concept from straight Zydeco to what they call "carnival music," with beads, voodoo dolls and an overall Mardi Gras flavor that encompasses everything from Jerry Reed to Muddy Waters to the Wild Magnolias.

"We finally found the music we love," Joani says. "We can do anything we want in this style, and it gives us a lot of freedom. But we've been very fortunate with the guys we've had in the band over the years. They each add something and rejuvenate us all the time."

The current lineup — Ricky Leighton on guitar, Craig Comer on drums and Chris Boughter on bass — has been together almost five years. Sax/clarinet player Joe Polen, who had played with H-Bomb Ferguson for years, joined the band last summer.

The real backbone for the band, Robin is quick to point out, is actually Daniel "Dano" Klems. He produces and engineers their albums, runs sound at the live shows and drives the equipment truck.

"Dano keeps everything moving," Robin says. "He's been a sound guy since he was about 16 and hadn't done it in a while until he saw us one time about 10 years ago. He didn't love Zydeco, but he knew we were good musicians and played our own instruments, which seemed like a big deal to him. He tells me, 'This is the only band I've ever worked with where I go home happy every night.' I feel the same way."

Yet there's something behind the happiness in Lacyland. What Robin and Joani always thought would be their strong suit — writing songs and performing interesting covers in an unusual style — has actually come back to bite them.

The original music community views them as a cover band or, worse, a show band. The clubs that like cover bands think they're a little too far out there.

"One young woman told me at a show, 'I thought you sucked until I saw you,' " Joani says. "We used to play at clubs up in Oxford, and the college kids loved us and danced all night. You start to think, mmm, maybe this Zydeco thing might actually get popular. But it never happens."

And so the band doesn't play local clubs much anymore. They'll do shows at places with a Louisiana theme (Fat Fish Blue, Redfish), and they have several dates lined up at the new Jimmy Buffett-themed Cheeseburger in Paradise in Eastgate.

But most of their public appearances these days — beyond the packed Mardi Gras season — are outdoor festivals, where the music seems to be a hit with families, especially children.

"You should see Robin at these festivals," Joani says. "He's the Pied Piper, leading packs of kids around with his beads. Little kids love to dance to this music. They're never embarrassed to get up and jump around."

Like a lot of musicians in town, Robin and Joani wish Cincinnati's club scene was more diverse. They'd love to see a club that catered to the area's wealth of talented "roots" performers, calling it a shame that Katie Laur, Jake Speed and others (including themselves) don't play out every weekend.

Don't think they're bitching, though. They'd never waste time with that.

"We love getting up on stage and playing music, no matter where or when," Joani says. "In between the shows and the festivals and trying to sell CDs and working a day job and keeping a band together, you still have your hopes and dreams. You still think maybe the next song you write will be the one that makes you a household name."

"Zydeco has been perfect for us as we've gotten older," Robin says. "Roots music in general fits older musicians. I can see us playing this until the day we die — or can't hold a guitar anymore.

"I remember as a kid we'd visit my grandparents in the summer, and they'd sit up and play cards and put on this hillbilly music — Hank Williams, Patsy Cline, that kind of stuff. God, I hated it. Hated it. And now, of course, I play it in my band. And I love it."

Back at the Blue Note, Polen picks up his clarinet and starts wailing. You hear some Pete Fountain, some Swing, some Big Band.

You laugh to yourself, thinking that if you had a dollar for every time a clarinet played in the Blue Note you'd be broke. Doesn't mean you wouldn't be happy. ©

Mardi Gras 05: Let the Good Times Roll

Robin Lacy

· Friday 8 p.m., 20th Century, Oakley Square: Robin Lacy & DeZydeco headline a Mardi Gras fund-raising party for Ovation Theatre Co., sponsored by WNKU-FM. $20 admission gets you two drink tickets (including New Orleans' famous hurricanes), a crawfish boil, prizes and more. Casual attire, or come in a Mardi Gras costume. 513-731-8000.

· Saturday 8:30 p.m., Madison Theater, Covington: Robin Lacy & DeZydeco headline their second annual Mardi Gras party. $5 admission gets you beads and Cajun food from Shiska Haus Catering. Mardi Gras costumes encouraged. 859-655-4807.

· Tuesday 4-8 p.m., Redfish, Downtown: Robin Lacy & DeZydeco work a Fat Tuesday shift before giving way to the Blue Birds at 8 p.m. $5 cover after 4 p.m. 513-929-4700.

· Every Thursday 7:30-11:30 p.m., La Normandie, Downtown: Robin and Joani Lacy and guitarist Ricky Leighton play acoustic from The Grateful Dead to old school Country.

· Feb. 12 2:30 p.m., Findlay Market, Over-the-Rhine: Robin Lacy & DeZydeco play the annual Mardi Gras at the Market event, which features beads, celebrity cooking demonstrations and a parade around Findlay Market. (Ricky Nye plays at 1:00 and Lagniappe at 11:30). The event is 10 a.m.-3:30 p.m. Free admission.

Other Mardi Gras Parties
· Friday and Saturday 7 p.m., MainStrasse Village: The annual Mardi Gras celebration features bands (Rusty Griswolds Friday, Leroy Ellington & E Funk Saturday) and Cajun food under a tent at Fifth and Main streets. The popular Big Head Parade is Friday and the Grande Parade is Saturday, both rolling at 7:45. $10 admission each night. 859-491-0458.

· Friday 9 p.m. and Tuesday 8 p.m., Wild Bill's New American Grille, Lebanon: A special menu is rolled out for the Mardi Gras season, while Taylor Farley & Blue Rock play Friday and Lagniappe on Fat Tuesday. There's no cover, but you'll still get beads, masks, special drinks and prizes. 513-934-1300.

· Tuesday 5 p.m., Fat Fish Blue, Newport on the Levee: Live music starts with Lagniappe at 5 p.m., followed by Crazy Marvin at 8:00. Stiltwalkers, beads, hurricane specials, dancing and prizes. $5 after 5 p.m. 859-261-4401.