Tuesdays with Walrus Submarine
By Dean Church
On very special Tuesdays, the French Quarter watering hole known as the Kerry Irish Pub reverts to its primitive ancestry of a thousand years ago, when dens of ale held minstrels and troubadours making merry magic for medieval teenyboppers and soused serfs. On very special Tuesdays, The Walrus Submarine uncovers the Beatles.
Imagine the love child of John Lennon and Joan of Arc. Imagine a Renaissance festival on acid. Imagine Imagine imagined by Benedictine monks. Even imagining such ideas, nothing short of being marooned on a desert island with Dread Zeppelin, Black Mathis and the Coolies could prepare one for an evening with The Walrus Submarine.
The Walrus Submarine blends the lyrics of John and Paul with musical stylings more familiar to Pope John Paul. Let It Be is reborn as a Shape Note hymn; Paperback Writer becomes an Irish jig; The Ballad of John and Yoko evolves into a Mariachi sing-along. With lyrics as familiar as nursery rhymes, unsuspecting observers soon become co-conspirators, singing along as if they were part of the All You Need Is Love satellite broadcast.
In the midst of morbidly fascinating arrangements, the group’s reverence for the Beatles shines through, with members even mimicking the Fab Four’s sublime psychedelic vocal collages at the close of songs. Drifting easily from Hindu mantras to doo wop crooners to Bluegrass stomps, The Walrus Submarine compounds the mayhem by routinely switching instruments and performing in varying combos, with sidelined members cheering from the audience and spreading the contagious fun.
The spectacle of the show is as entertaining as the music. Mark Petersen, the band’s self-proclaimed fashion coordinator, outfits the band in matching digs ranging from medieval and pirate threads to S&M bondage gear to saint and martyr apparel. With members constantly leaving the stage to share tables with the audience, the barrier between the performers and the audience disappears and the stage becomes a roving spotlight capable of landing anywhere in the pub.
The Walrus Submarine is led by Katheryn Laborde and Ben Schenck, and also features Elizabeth Muhleisen, Mark Petersen and Patrick Mackey. Dave Carbonara of the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra and Steve Calandra of Egg Yolk Jubilee alternate on bass - in the "Paul is dead" tradition, The Walrus Submarine doesn’t have a permanent bassist. Interestingly, while the original four members love the boys from Liverpool, Patrick hates them. Notes Katheryn, "he refused to be born until his mother reassured him telepathically that the Beatles had disbanded."
The members’ alter egos are surprisingly normal, which may enable them to keep straight faces during the shows. Although it is difficult not to smile while listening to their Renaissance-fueled rendition of Drive My Car(t), the band isn’t out for laughs. As Katheryn explains, "We explore the songs without spoofing, and reinterpret without going into parody." With an arsenal of instruments at their command and everyone comfortable singing lead, the band offers a diverse and flavorful menu of ethnic Beatles dishes served up just right.
As Tuesday turns into Wednesday, amidst a pub full of medieval teenyboppers and soused serfs singing I am the Walrus, The Walrus Submarine is succeeding at doing the unimaginable, presenting Beatles songs in a style so fresh and different that comparison to the Fab Four is irrelevant. As Katheryn points out to her smiling audience, "These are all Beatles songs. If you don’t recognize them, thank you."
Read the next article: "THE WALRUS SUBMARINE: THE ORIGINAL BEATLES unCOVER BAND"