Tonight, a friend of mine brought a VHS of an old television program that featured the King of Zydeco, Monsieur Clifton Chenier, at his last performance at a festival in Plaisance in 1987. There he sat in a wheel chair, his little pant leg flapping in the wind where his leg used to be, voice so hoarse, almost inaudible, and arms so weak that he needed a special accordion that operated with hydraulics to push and pull the bellows.

Clifton Chenier with son, C.J.

This man, who paved the way for every single Zydeco musician today - every single Zydeco musician today - was living out his last few days. This man, the one and only King of Zydeco, who is more important to Louisiana music than anyone ever has been or will be, was slumped in a wheelchair, pumping away what little strength that remained in him, singing "I'm Coming Home"

Tears rained from his eyes as he sang, "You know, all my friends, they're all turning their backs on poor old me, I'm back home, 'cause that's where I belong..." Then, the media crowded the stage to take pictures of the tears slowly dripping down his wrinkled old cheek, "Do you remember, before I come home, I wanna start all over again.. That's why I'm comin' home, 'cause that's where I belong."

Clifton's last performance at the Plaisance Festival in '87

To start all over again. This man, who is shown in Les Blank's "Hot Pepper" as a vibrant wild man, powerful with incredible godly talent on a piano key accordion, jumping all over the stage with his brother, cracking jokes, young and crazy, now was dwindled down to a wheelchair, crying, thinking of his youth, the days to which he wanted to return. He just wanted to go home and forget about all the people, to go home to his mother, 'cause that's where he belonged.

Clifton died not longer after that performance at the festival in Plaisance. This film marks the saddest day ever documented in Zydeco music. A man, so famous and renown, knew his life was at an end, and the world witnessed the end of an era, the end of a life of a brilliant musician who knew the notes, but had not the muscles to play them. Is this why he cried? You can't go home again. No one can.

 

 

Wilson Savoy
12-11-06