Like the great Louis Armstrong before him, Fats Domino was a perfect ambassador for New Orleans music.
Even at the height of the mid-‘50s rock and roll explosion, when Elvis and Chuck Berry were scaring the bejeezus out of parents with their primal rhythms and suggestive stage antics, Fats was a cherubic presence when seated behind a piano with a sweet smile on his face and a fat horn section by his side. No wonder he was one of the era’s most prolific and universally accepted hitmakers; with trumpeter/bandleader Dave Bartholomew as his co-writer and producer, Domino unleashed an incredible run of hits on Imperial Records that were irresistible to teenagers and their parents alike. Fats always did the Crescent City proud.
Domino, who died at the age of 89 in his beloved home in Harvey, Jefferson Parrish in New Orleans, Louisiana, at night on the 24th of October 2017, had been ailing in recent years after surviving the wrath of Hurricane Katrina in 2005 (he had to be rescued from his Ninth Ward home, which was utterly devastated). But prior to his health woes, Fats never stopped rocking like it was 1957 all over again, always fronting a rollicking band soaked in second-line rhythms and jabbing horns. Domino never seemed like he was just going through the motions; whenever he launched into his raucous set closer When The Saints Go Marching In, it was instant Mardi Gras time.
