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Neville was born on January 24th, 1941. After solo hits including the 1966 classic, "Tell It Like It Is," he joined siblings Art, Cyril and Charles to form the Neville Brothers in 1977. His quavering tenor and sublime falsetto inspired Bob Dylan to write, "There's so much spirituality in his singing that it could even bring sanity back in a world of madness."
You've lived in New Orleans your entire life. What kept you there?
Born and raised, man. It was the spirit of it: the atmosphere, the attitude and my roots. All of my people that passed before me, who are buried there. It's our city, our stomping grounds. I used to tell people that I've been in some beautiful places -- Switzerland and France and this and that -- but the prettiest sight was flying back to New Orleans, being able to look down and see the swamps and say, "I know where I am now."
Growing up, you must have been surrounded by music.
We grew up in the Calliope housing projects. When I was thirteen, we moved uptown and I got to see a little more of New Orleans. My mom and dad were playing Nat "King" Cole and Sarah Vaughn and Louis Jordan, but my first inspiration as a singer was my older brother Art. He and some guys used to get out on a park bench and sing doo-wops, sounding like Sonny Til and the Orioles, and Pookie Hudson and the Spaniels, and the Flamingos. I used to want to sing with them, but they'd run me away. "Get away from me, kid!" they said. Then one day a guy called me over and said, "Hey, man, you take this key." I was singing at home, I thought I was Nat "King" Cole, but that was the happiest time of my life, to be able to start singing out.
And music filled the streets.
Music was everywhere. You might hear a band and follow the sounds, and you'd see a bunch of people following a funeral -- that's where the term "second line" came from. The first line was mourners, and the second line was a brass band playing a slow dirge on the way to the graveyard.
Everybody from down there, you can hear the New Orleans beat in their music. From the Marsalis family, to Harry Connick Jr., to Dr. John, the Nevilles -- it's in them. There was a rhythm to the city. When Mardi Gras came, I got a chance to get a little further away from the projects. We'd see the Indian bands, and that fascinated all of us. It was a melting pot of different cultures, music and food. We had the French, the Spanish, the Irish, the Italian. The Nevilles have some Native American in us. I call myself Heinz 57. It was a cultural gumbo down there, and right now it's a toxic gumbo.
Were you there for the flood in 1965?
Oh, yeah. I had my wife and three kids and I remember trying to hold the walls up. They were vibrating -- it felt like they were going to be taken off into space. At that time, Mayor Skiro dynamited the levee so the water only flooded the Ninth Ward -- the lowest part of New Orleans -- where a lot of people were killed, and not the whole city.
If today you were a child in the Calliope projects, do you think you would have survived Hurricane Katrina?
Probably not. If we were poor growing up, we didn't know it, because our parents always gave us clothes and something to eat. We had a great childhood, with great memories. But we probably would've been like the people who couldn't make it out of the way of Katrina. I still don't know if friends of mine are alive or dead -- I may never see them again. But I will keep them alive in my heart. Government officials were telling these people to get out any way that they can, but what are they going to do, walk? Where were the buses? Where was the cavalry? I sat there in a hotel room watching this for days, trying to hold back. "Damn, where are y'all at? Come get these people outta here!" It's chaos down there. Now people are telling [the evacuees], "Come get $2,000." What is that going to do?
As a member of the Neville Brothers, who are commonly referred to as the "First Family" of New Orleans, you must feel an incredible responsibility to see your city restored.
Yeah. We're running all over the place, trying to do benefits. Wynton Marsalis and I have spoken about getting together at least once a month, with his family and mine, to raise money for the people.
When you return to New Orleans, what will you miss the most?
It will be a while before I go back. Right now I'll leave it as a memory, and remember it as the city that I grew up in. The way it looks now, with all the toxic stuff down there, I don't know if I'll be able to return to New Orleans in my lifetime. And it's not going to be the same. I hear people talking about making New Orleans better. That would be good. I hope they can.
How could they possibly make it better?
I don't know. I hear politicians say that, but there ain't nothin' like the old New Orleans.