Jazzfest - tribute to Kurtis Martin
I don't know if this is the right forum or even how these requests typically get back to Ed and the band, but our dear friend, Kurtis Martin, passed away this past November after a brief fight with cancer at the age of 61. Below was the tribute I wrote for him. He would have been 62 years old this past Sunday, April 27th, and Jazzfest was our special birthday present to ourselves over the years. This weekend our crew and family will be coming from Texas, Arizona and Louisiana to celebrate his life and what he meant to us. We planned 2nd weekend before the lineup was announced, so it is serendipitous that a band that means so much to us just happens to be headlining. Funny how life works sometimes... I'm sure they get tons of requests, but if Ed has a chance to do a shoutout to Kurtis during the set, I know he'll be there in spirit. -Liam
The King of Jazzfest | November 25, 2024
As we wrapped up our text that afternoon, Kurtis, in his typical way said, “You live your life well, brother.”
“At times,” I responded. “You have a good day?”
“Amazing day.”
Of course you did, Kurtis – of course you did. Rest in peace, my brother.
“Yes, I understand that every life must end.
-Eddie Vedder
The King of Jazzfest | November 25, 2024
On my journey to New Orleans last night, I was able to take some time to reflect and hopefully found the words below to convey how my life has been richer having Kurtis in it. Today as we mourned his passing and celebrated his light, I was fortunate to witness so many of his friends and family celebrating what he meant to them. It made me realize that my relationship with Kurtis was not unique, but just another story of a generous soul who appreciated the good in life, and shared that with all of us selflessly…
I was introduced to Kurtis Martin in 1997 when BB moved to New Orleans for work. My first visit to the Big Easy was during Mardi Gras, and Kurtis was the older brother of Tim(breaux) who worked with BB.
Kurtis and I were both going through tumultuous times in our personal relationships when we first met, and in chatting with him over copious libations that first Mardi Gras, we discovered that we shared a lot more in common than heartache. We had the same birth date. Both Taurus. Kurtis was in the Navy. I was a Marine. Music was endlessly intertwined with who we were. We both had angry resting face that made us look pissed all the time. And we both felt that we were always in on the joke (and that nobody else was). We laughed until we cried. We were kindred spirits.
That first indulgent introduction to NOLA was magical, and it became a tradition to spend every spring there for Mardi Gras, St Patty’s Day, Jazzfest (the annual birthday celebration), or you name it – New Orleans always has a reason for widespread jubilation. And the Martin brothers were always the most generous of hosts, representing the true definition of “southern hospitality” and welcoming us to be part of their extended family.
But as is known to happen in life, we all adulted more and more as we grayed over time. The parties were fewer and far between, but it always felt like yesterday whenever we were fortunate to get back together.
Anyone that is lucky enough to have been in Kurtis’ life knows how you felt when you were around him. He always had a welcoming hug, a sweet compliment and a sarcastic line that brought levity and introspection. He genuinely enjoyed our company and opened our eyes to the greatest of vibes, the best of times and the sincerest of friendships. Kurtis was well read and an “armchair philosopher” on what matters most in life. I say that with the greatest of admiration. He pushed us to think – to have an educated opinion. Most importantly, Kurtis appreciated and lived in the moment, and especially appreciated those that he was sharing that moment with. Never a stranger did this man meet. Kurtis was special…and he made us feel special.
Despite not seeing each other in recent years, Kurtis and I would always connect on our day in April. Sometimes we’d talk (and sometimes we’d shout because he was at the Fest), but at a minimum we would always text. At the time, I didn’t know that this year’s birthday would be our “goodbye.” Kurtis texted me that morning as I embarked on a memorial “hump” at Camp Pendleton for fallen Navy and Marine veterans. He and his partner in crime, Jodie, were heading out to partake in the beautiful music, people and festivities that the Jazzfest brings to NOLA every year without fail. Later that afternoon, I sent him some pics of the sheer beauty and solemn sentiment that I was surrounded by that day as I reconnected with a past life.
As we wrapped up our text that afternoon, Kurtis, in his typical way said, “You live your life well, brother.”
“At times,” I responded. “You have a good day?”
“Amazing day.”
Of course you did, Kurtis – of course you did. Rest in peace, my brother.
“Yes, I understand that every life must end.
As we sit alone, I know someday we must go.
Oh, I'm a lucky man to count on both hands the ones I love.
Some folks just have one, others they got none…”
-Eddie Vedder
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