Urban Jacksonville

Jax can be maddeningly insular,apathetic, and downright ignorant. However, when the unique elements that make up North Florida come together the results are often brilliant.
A growing community devoted to cultivating the brilliant parts and hopefully undermining the ignorant ones is encouraging.

I was trying to explain to a friend over dinner last night the brilliance of Chops and its level of communication across social groups. What I most picked-up on when I watched the documentary was the fact that it appealed to such a wide range of Jacksonville residents while providing a good representation of the different types of people found in Jacksonville. The fact that the film could relate these different social groups by illustrating a united passion among residents was awesome. Seeing that feeling carried through into the audience viewing the film was unbelievable. I had chill bumps.

Glad to hear the film will likely be shown again.

Nice comment skink. When I first got to jax it felt like a bigger version of where i grew up in the panhandle, but different still. same diversity still lacked a lot of tolerance. We had the swamp ghetto thing (tip to mofro) but it was more republic of west florida. Since new orleans was easier to get to by half we clung to our coast much more than exploring the rest of florida (which we were barely in- we were even central time zone). even north florida once we were at our respective north florida universities seemed the same but different. I think it was coastal. cajun vs. cracker if you will. Savannah and Charleston are more like jax than pensacola, mobile, NOLA. But I think your thoughts on skynyrd brought it all together for me. And despite all the crappy stuff about where we are, I am definitely glad I am here! Chops definitely highlighted that!

I regret missing this show. From what I have read however this documentary will be picked up for wider distribution. In that case, the San Marco or Beaches Theater will offer it to audiences who missed it this time around.

As I left, I recalled a statement made earlier in the night, which at the film’s conclusion made perfect sense; North Florida and South Georgia have an understanding of soul unlike any other place.

North Florida soul was a central idea in a conversation with my better half one recent evening. We had just finished singing along to “:The Ballad Of Curtis Lowe” in the car. As a native, at times the dominant “whiskey bent and hell bound” narrative found in a majority of Skynyrd song tends to evoke a tired revulsion. The incessant repetition on local airwaves of their southern anthems stimulates a deeply conditioned response. Most often, this response is to change the station(to NPR of course) or pop in a CD. This is a reaction to decades of bombardment both by their music and by the dominant redneck culture of our city.

However, when the timing and song choice align, certain Syknyrd songs produce a profound and sincere appreciation of North Florida soul. They bring up memories of oyster roasts over an open fire on the beach. And weekend trips to St. Augustine or Fernandina in an old patchwork trimaran.I think of fistfights at the boat ramp and ill advised races down Mandarin Road. “Oak tree your in my way” I am reminded of wailing bar band blues and Jimmy Buffet standards being played on open-air decks next to the ocean. And watching a ten year old Derek Trucks summon wicked voodoo on the slide next to the old Palm valley bridge.

Then I realize, like it or not, these old redneck codgers speak and play of the place I call home. Despite whatever tragically un-hip connotations assigned to their music I cannot deny that these songs express a fundamental understanding of the language and culture that shaped my understanding.

Maybe that is why I love Mofro so much. They speak a language of place and express a narrative experience that embraces and surpasses what Skynyrd did. If you are interested in a contemporary expression of the North Florida soul found in songs by Skynyrd or Woody Guthrie’s time in the North Florida swampland, do you self a favor and go to the next Mofro show with the Symphony.

And regardless of the work you are doing to drag this city into cultural relevance and civic responsibility, don’t be ashamed when you here that opening riff to Sweet Home Alabama and, like me, you almost involuntarily utter the invocation…”Turn it Up.”