George Porter Is Still Funkin'

Nevertheless, fine albums such as 1974's Rejuvenation and 1975's Fire on the Bayou sold minimally, and a planned publicity push for 1977's New Directions came apart when Art Neville and his younger sibling, percussionist/vocalist Cyril, who'd joined the Meters along the way, decided to hook up with family members Aaron and Charles in the Neville Brothers. The split played havoc on a scheduled showcase during the first season of Saturday Night Live, which Porter, Nocentelli and Modeliste eventually played alongside keyboardist David Batiste — father of Porter's current bandmate, drummer/vocalist Russell Batiste. Reprise soon decided to cut its losses, and over the next year or so, the Meters fell apart.

Since then, the group has reunited on several occasions — most notably for a stretch beginning in 1989 when Porter, Nocentelli, Art Neville and Russell Batiste (filling in for Modeliste, who chose not to participate) dubbed themselves the Funky Meters. The lineup shifted again in 1994, when Nocentelli bowed out and was replaced by guitarist Brian Stoltz, whose credits included work with none other than the Neville Brothers. As the years passed, Art, who's seventy, became less interested in touring, but the three remaining players had energy to burn and decided to continue making music together, albeit under another moniker. Calling the trio a variation on the Meters seemed like false advertising because Porter was the only founding member, so they became Porter Batiste Stoltz.

On the new act's debut disc, 2005's Expanding the Funkin' Universe, songs such as "All We Wanna Do" mix occasional rock and blues touches with ass-shaking rhythms. Still, Porter feels that the biggest distinctions between Porter Batiste Stoltz and its precursors have to do with musical forcefulness. "The three-piece band definitely leans on being more powerful — more power funk," he says. "For most people, 'power' means 'louder,' and it probably is louder — but it isn't much louder than the Funky Meters." Still, he resists the urge to make up for the absence of keyboards with more notes. "Space is a very equal part of the music," he allows. "It's not what you play; it's what you don't play that makes syncopation work."

Post-Hurricane Katrina, Porter moved out of New Orleans. Watching what he considers to be bureaucratic mishandling and counterproductive blame-casting in relation to rebuilding projects made him too upset, so he and his wife headed to Darrow, Louisiana, a small community about an hour away. He also tries not to waste his anger on bitterness over the unpaid royalties he feels the Meters deserve for sample use. While he's pretty sure Heavy D eventually ponied up for "Gyrlz, They Love Me," he says he never saw a nickel from "Queen Latifah and a bunch of other ones who all claimed they were broke and couldn't pay us the money." (The Queen's doing pretty well these days, but she's yet to make good.) Likewise, a lawsuit against Whitney Houston over the use of "Hand Clapping Song" in her tune "My Love Is Your Love" was eventually tossed; the judge ruled that the Meters cut was based on material in the public domain.

Other modern performers have offered a different kind of compensation. "Some of the jam bands of the day — the Widespread Panics and other bands that came out around then and started playing our music — they've introduced us to another community of music buyers and listeners," Porter says.

Fortunately, Porter's jams taste as fresh as the day they were made.

Click here for more of our interview with George Porter.