I just got back from a vacation in Quebec and was saddened to see that Kermit Venable has passed.
When I was a student at Loyola University, New Orleans, I found that Cajun musicians with free time for accordion lessons were in short supply. Even Bruce Daigrepont, who leaved nearby, couldn't accommodate me.
I met Kermit at a horrible bar at the Jax Brewery mall. He was a bit grumpy and initially unwilling to even talk about accordions. Eventually, however, he realized that I was serious about learning to play. He was also impressed that I was conversant in French.
During the next few months, I became somewhat of a fixture at his gigs at Michaul’s on St. Charles. I'd wait for his band to take a break and then I'd bother the poor man for a few lessons. His teaching style didn't stray too far from the Marc Savoy school of squeezebox instruction: Now look here. I'm gonna play real fast and you're gonna watch, completely befuddled.
I was floored by the vastness of his repertoire, and amazed at the power of his vocals. I was also more than a bit saddened to see such a great musician playing at a depressing Cajun restaurant for a bunch of half-zonked tourists eating overpriced, frozen seafood (ain't that the life of a Cajun musician?).
Naturally, he wasn't without his quirks. For instance, I never could get over his bizarre folk remedy for heartburn: fresh radish slices mixed into a pint of melted vanilla ice cream ("My ONE contribution to the medical field"). He gulped that sh*t down.
Nauseating home remedies aside, Kermit was a wildly entertaining raconteur. His jiggly build and intense, half-mad gaze only added to the experience of watching him wax romantic about Cajun legends he had known. I used to love his story about a tour in Belgium where he tried desperately (and in vain) to keep Canray sober.
During lessons he told endless anecdotes about legendary musicians who had since passed on, punctuated always with "and I said to myself, `we've lost another one'".
I'll always remember this monster accordionist -- he played an Acadiana box -- as a walking, talking archive of rare Cajun tunes. Not only was he the first Cajun musician to ever invite me onstage, but he also accompanied me on my virgin trip to Eunice, introducing me to both Marc Savoy's jam and the Liberty Theater.
Despite having lost touch with the guy very soon thereafter, I never forget his generosity and patience with a Cajun newbie.
Hey Nick and Christian,
I had the honor of playing with Kermit at the majority of his gigs over the past 3 years. I actually played on his last gig this past saturday. He was so optimistic about getting gigs now because after the storm Michaul's closed for good. He definately was an old style accordion player. I've heard the story about Canray and all of the other stories he had about all the guys most of us have only read about. About the BeauBassin CD, the record company that produced it was actually based out of New Orleans and was completely flooded by Katrina. I'm pretty sure the company is slooowly getting back up and running but after the storm the only way Kermit could sell cd's was with burned copies. I'm going to miss playing with him and hearing all the stories he had. Unfortunately he didn't have insurance, so its been really hard trying to gather up the money to have him cremated so he can be buried next to his wife in Church Point.
His style kinda reminded me of Nonc Allie Young. I saw him in Michaul's once -- he was very nice to my young daughter, taught her a few dance steps and stuff. sorry to hear he's gone, he was a very nice man.
The April 2011 Dewey Balfa Cajun & Creole Heritage Week
