31 Mar Matador Playlist 3/26/26 + A Man Called Ding-Ding

Welcome back once again to that paragon of Euterpian virtue, that Orphean/Eurydicean journey through the dense subterranean murk of Ye Olde Matador Bar & Lounge, that curiously curated labyrinthian musical curlicued dance of Id and Ego—yes, you guessed it, it’s another edition of DJ Inky’s Matador Playlist. Did you miss me? I sure as hell missed you, whoever the hell you are.

I’ll be of a truth unto you, Gentle Reader(s)—it’s like This: The older I get (and the process does seem to be inevitable and ongoing) the harder it is for me to rouse my skinny ass up and return to the Matador DJ booth after an absence. The more prolonged the absence, the more difficult it becomes and my regular relocations to Ink South are quite prolonged. I’ve never been a morning person, but in recent years I’ve gravitated further and further away from the night owl ways of my misbegotten youth. When I was but a wee lad, all I wanted to do (well, not quite all) was to stay up late. ‘Late’ was when all the Cool Stuff was happening. The adults were downstairs talking and drinking and smoking, interesting grown up things were on late night teevee, and the adults just wanted you to go to bed so they could get on with their assorted adult activities unhindered and uninterrupted. So of course I wanted to stay up late and get in on as much of the Cool Stuff as possible. When, at long last, I was in command of my own hours I took to the night life and the Cool Stuff with a vengeance, and there were few places better suited to this noble pursuit than New Orleans in the 1970s.

Now that I am encroaching upon my dotage, the creaking hours of early morning and the impending squint of first light have lost much of their lustre and allure. On civilian evenings I generally aim to be under the covers by 11:30 or so, but on DJ Inky nights I’m rarely headed for the Land of Nod before 3 in the AM. It’s a bit disruptive to the usual circadian rhythms, but c’est la vie, c’est la guerre. Duty calls and I must heed the Siren’s Song. So if my Matador Playlists seem a bit fewer and further between than used to be, that there is the reason for it.

Now, I’m guessing perhaps you’re wondering about the individual pictured at the top of this page. And well you might. This person is (or, more accurately, was) someone that I knew in my misbegotten youth in New Orleans in the 1970s. The individual pictured at top was known to many simply as Ding-Ding, but his actual birth designation was Ambrose J. Schumpert. Ding-Ding/Schumpert was a colorful character around town and was famed for his years of service as a vendor at City Park Stadium (now known as Tad Gormley Stadium). Ding-Ding dispensed peanuts and beer to the masses at the stadium for sporting events that included high school and college football matches and home games for the city’s minor league baseball team, the Pelicans. He also did deliveries for assorted stores and eateries and rode about town on his befendered bicycle which was equipped with a large wire basket and a bell—hence, Ding-Ding. Over the years, Ding-Ding accrued the appellation of ‘King of the Hawkers’, and as you can see from the photo, he had the belt buckle to prove it.

‘Ah,’ you are doubtlessly thinking,’This is all very well and good, but what’s it got to do with YOU, our most Humble Narrator?’ I shall tell you. In the aforementioned 1970s in New Orleans I was an aspiring and rather singularly untalented guitar player, but my lack of musical aptitude did not forestall me from somehow being in a band or two. The last and most notable/notorious of these ensembles was known as the Androids, or Andrew and the Androids (after our drummer, who was the linchpin of the organization). Much of this era exists only in a vague haze of distant memory so many of the details are lost to the mists of time, but at some point a fellow named Richard appeared on the scene. Richard was a Brit, a few years older than myself, and he had become acquainted to some in my youthful crowd as a motorcycle-riding hipster. Richard’s motorcycling activities had eventually taken a turn for the calamitous and he emerged from the fray minus the lower portion of one leg.

His two-wheeling days now behind him, Richard turned his focus to other passions—specifically, singing, songwriting, and guitar playing. In late-ish 1978 or early-ish 1979 his path crossed with that of drummer Andrew and thence with mine. A fourth individual—a dreamy young multi-instrumentalist whose name is lost to posterity—was conscripted to round out the group and rehearsals were set to commence. In order for rehearsals to commence a commodious space for such activity was required and this is where Ding-Ding entered the picture. Richard was a hustler—always on the make for one thing or another—and he was rather aggressive about recruiting people to his various causes and schemes. Richard somehow made the acquaintance of Ding-Ding and Ding-Ding, in this phase of his career, was working as a live-in security guard at a large and dilapidated mansion just off the uptown edge of Coliseum Square Park in the Lower Garden District. This regal dump had once been the home of the storied mayor of New Orleans, deLesseps Story Morrison, Sr., known familiarly to one and all as ‘Chep.’ Chep Morrison was, by all accounts, a politician of questionable morals and virtues but he built a reputation as a charming rogue and was known for having romanced none other than Zsa Zsa Gabor. After four consecutive terms of service in City Hall, Morrison was voted out of office in 1961 and died suddenly and dramatically three years later in a plane crash in Mexico. By the 1970s his former home was a decrepit wreck inhabited by Ding-Ding and an occasional female companion, the two of them being in possession of, perhaps, a cumulative five teeth betwixt and between them.

As no one in Andrew and the Androids owned or had reliable access to an automobile, on the occasions of our practices we would hump our gear to St. Charles Avenue where we would catch the streetcar downtown to the LGD and then hump an additional two blocks over to the Morrison manse on Coliseum Street. The front steps up to the wide veranda had been razed and there was no entry at ground level, so in order to gain access we had to climb on top of a Port-A-Potty and pass all the gear up to the porch, bucket-brigade style. Lacking a critical appendage, this whole process was particularly onerous for Richard. After banging on the door for a while Ding-Ding would appear, armed to the teeth (or tooth, as the case may be) with an old .38 revolver and a broomstick holstered in his belt. The plaster had been torn off most of the walls and ceilings and if was raining, or had rained recently, water flowed openly down the lath work. We had no PA system and we plugged our Radio Shack microphone into one of the amp inputs so Richard’s vocals were at least partially audible.

Ding-Ding seemed to appreciate our raggedy little group and usually hung out to watch us practice. I can’t remember if we were allowed to leave Andrew’s drum kit in place or if we had to hump everything down off the veranda and back home on the streetcar every time. It was a less than optimal arrangement by any measure and things eventually came to head when Richard recruited a young African chap he had met in the French Quarter to join us as a percussionist. When we showed up at the Morrison manse with our new member Ding-Ding refused to allow him into the house. That didn’t go over well and our days at Chez Chep came to an inglorious end.

Ding-Ding wasn’t a sort you come across every day and he remains etched in my memory as a one-of-a-kind character of that era—a minor local celebrity of a uniquely New Orleans variety. The Androids played a handful of gigs around town. The band’s swan song took place on my 20th birthday at the Dream Palace on Frenchmen Street. I announced my intention to move to Albuquerque before the end of the year and Richard was furious at me for breaking up the band. I have no idea what happened to Andrew or Richard but Ding-Ding passed away in 1989, aged 67, and is buried in St. Patrick Cemetery #3 in Mid City.

So there you go, Gentle Reader(s)—a man called Ding-Ding. Now you know. As for the playlist, click for the YouTube-ish iteration of that bad mofo right HERE (go ahead and do it—you KNOW you want to!). DJ Inky shall return… I think.

Grammar of Life – Charles Bukowski
Roadrunner – the Modern Lovers
These Boots Are Made for Walkin – Nancy Sinatra
Ray of Light – Madonna
Highway to Hell – AC/DC
Band of Gold – Freda Payne
Face Squared – Fugazi
Intergalactic – Beastie Boys
Backwater – Meat Puppets
Put the Kids to Bed – Ron Gallo
Whiskey in the Jar – Thin Lizzy
Heads Will Roll (A-Trak Remix) – Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Saint Simon – the Shins
Crazy Train – Ozzy Osbourne
Fade Away – Junior Biles
Latest Heartbreak – 22-20s
Don’t Push Me Around – Zeros
Say It Ain’t So – Weezer
When The Levee Breaks – Led Zeppelin
Bellbottoms – the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion
(Ghost) Riders in the Sky – Johnny Cash
The Hardest Button to Button – White Stripes
Surfin’ Bird – the Trashmen
Foggy Notion – Velvet Underground
Science and Wine – the Shimmies
Where Were You? – Mekons
El Matador – the Mel-Tones
Let Yourself Go – James Brown
There Was A Time – James Brown
I Feel All Right – James Brown
Cold Sweat – James Brown
Clear Blue Sky – Chris Whitley
Born to Kill – the Damned
Shroud of Turin – Echo & the Bunnymen
C’mon Everybody – Eddie Cochran
Gimme Danger – Iggy & the Stooges
Till The End of the Day – the Kinks
Song of Life – Leftfield
Lithium – Nirvana
The Good, The Bad, and the Leftover Crack – Leftover Crack
Let My Baby Ride – R.L. Burnside
One Step Beyond – Madness
Gonna Hitchhike Down to Cincinnati and Kick the Shit Outta Your Drunk Daddy – Nashville Pussy
Twist and Shout – the Beatles
Make Love, Fuck War – Moby & Public Enemy
Beyond and Back – X
Do You Wanna Dance – the Ramones
Cabbage Alley – the Meters
The Boy With the Thorn in His Side – the Smiths
Maps – Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Lust for Life – Iggy Pop
Baby Blue – Badfinger
The Crusher – the Cramps
Comedown – Bush
Just Because – the Collins Kids
Pay To Cum – Bad Brains
Mystery Achievement – the Pretenders
Stoned Out of My Mind – the Chi-lites
Infected – Bad Religion
Fortunate Son – Creedence Clearwater Revival
Natural’s Not In It – Gang of Four
(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais – the Clash
Scorpio Rising – Death in Vegas
Petition the Lord With Prayer – the Doors
Dead Rats, Dead Cats – the Doors
Break On Through – the Doors
Nobody Really Cares if You Don’t Go To the Party – Courtney Barnett
Love is Lost – David Bowie
I Had Too Much to Dream Last Night – the Electric Prunes
Grip – Rollins Band
Streets of Baltimore – Gram Parsons & Fallen Angels
Submission – the Sex Pistols
Gimme Shelter – the Rolling Stones
I Put A Spell On You – Screamin’ Jay Hawkins
Think Again – Minor Threat
Doo Wop (That Thing) – Lauryn Hill
Superstition – Stevie Wonder
Scenario – A Tribe Called Quest
Quiet Dog – Mos Def
We’er Gone – Thee Headcoats
Subway Train – the New York Dolls
Downtown Train – Tom Waits
World Without Tears – Lucinda Williams
Buona Sera – Louis Prima
Happy Trails – Roy Rogers & Dale Evans
Taxi – Bryan Ferry