NEW ORLEANS--There’s an obvious metaphor lurking in the sad news of zydeco pioneer Boozoo Chavis’ death on Saturday, May 5, in Austin, Texas. After all, Chavis, who had originally been scheduled to play the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival on Friday before becoming sidelined by a stroke earlier in the week, embodied the “heritage” part of the festival’s title like few performers could.

But while it would be a stretch to declare that indigenous forms like zydeco and Cajun music are being swept aside at Jazz Fest in favor of rockers, rappers and the dreaded “jam-band” phenomenon, it’s nevertheless true that the festival’s cultural identity is slowly eroding. Indeed, during the second weekend, there often seemed to be two very distinct festivals sharing the same space.

Thursday, May 3

Staging a large outdoor music festival poses its own unique problems, not the least of which is the dilution of an artist’s music in the open air. Some performers are just better suited to smaller, more intimate settings, a rationale the festival gives for consigning most of its jazz performers to the smaller tent stages. The “jazz tent” (better known to some as the BET on Jazz/WWOZ Jazz Tent) might have been a better venue for Lucinda Williams' set than the sprawling grounds of the Sprint PCS stage.

A large portion of Williams’ set was given over to new and unfamiliar material from her forthcoming “Essence,” and if her performance was any indication, it’s a lethargic disc indeed. Songs like “I Envy the Wind” were pretty, if a bit slow-paced for such an environment. Even though things picked up with the funky title track and the charging standby “Changed the Locks,” the proceedings were marred by their surroundings. What sounds lush and poetic on record or in a cozy club comes off as precious and even naive in the great outdoors, as the usually engaging “2 Kool 2 Be 4-Gotten” proved.

Later on the same stage, South Louisiana supergroup Lil’ Band o’ Gold fared better, mixing rootsy swamp-pop with touches of nouveau Cajun music (courtesy of Steve Riley’s accordion) and back-roads rock and roll (in the form of C.C. Adcock’s snarling, fuzzed-up guitar solos). Powered by a superlative horn section and the avuncular presence and rock-solid drumming of Warren Storm, the group tossed off classics like “Please Mr. Sandman” with aplomb, giving unsuspecting audiences a primer in the timeless Excello Records catalog.

For all the carping about the jam-band set, it has to be said that Widespread Panic [ tickets ] provided one of the festival’s highlights during a blistering run-through of Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition.” With the Dirty Dozen Brass Band providing a squall of dizzying horns against a backdrop of elemental African percussion, Panic vocalist John Bell growled through Wonder’s lines like a college-crowd John Lee Hooker. You didn’t have to be a fan of Widespread Panic to be moved by the extended, expansive jam, or to agree that it was a high-water mark for the weekend.

Friday, May 4

A day of disappointments. Rocker Peter Holsapple has served as a touring utility player by both R.E.M. and Hootie and the Blowfish, and currently resides with the criminally overlooked Continental Drifters. During a puzzling solo show (why no Drifters set?), he seemed, well, adrift, nervously introducing odds and ends like a tentatively played “Lonely Is as Lonely Does,” which was penned for the seminal dB’s before it “crawled away from the playpen.” If Holsapple seemed unable to let go and let his works fly free, his follow-up, neo-bluesman Keb’ Mo’, suffered a different problem. His folksy pop-blues confections have never stirred this writer, and although the swelling crowd seemed to enjoy them just fine, they were too breezy to offer any real heft.

Faring slightly better was New Orleans’ James Rivers, a local institution (and favorite of Clint Eastwood) known for equal proficiency on the saxophone and the bagpipes. Rivers is an enjoyable performer and presence, but an ill-executed hop onto the Louis Armstrong bandwagon--with Rivers’ genial bassist handling unremarkable vocal duties--threw cold water onto an otherwise fine set.

Try as he did, in the end your humble correspondent couldn’t resist the tidal tug of Paul Simon at the festival's largest venue, the Acura stage. He was not particularly well-rewarded for his efforts. Nothing against Mr. Simon, but his buoyant pop stylings just seemed out of place (an odd distinction, to be sure, for a festival hosting both Wilson Pickett and venerable Cajun swingers the Hackberry Ramblers on the same day). You don’t get more populist than Simon’s catalog, and the crowd ate it up, but this reviewer had trouble keeping interested. A fatal one-two punch in the form of new song “You’re the One” and the too cutesy “Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover” finally did him in, causing him to miss a duet with Aaron Neville toward the end of the set.

Saturday May 5

The schism between the two Jazz Fests has never been more apparent than on the day of Dave Matthews’ performance. In one corner is the festival in all its multi-cultural diversity: from the world music, soul and rap offerings of the Congo Square stage to the dance-happy Cajun and zydeco enthusiasts at the Fais Do Do stage to the blues, rock and R&B aficionados at the House of Blues stage. In the other is the ever-growing jam-band contingent, whose numbers have grown exponentially each year since the infamous Phish booking of 1996. At times the festival seems to be overrun with the patchouli and sandals demographic.

From a fiscal perspective, you can’t blame Jazz Fest organizers for cannily booking at least one jam-band on each day of the festival. From a cultural standpoint, however, something is definitely getting lost in the transition. It’s not just that the throngs of jam fans seem voluminous: They swelled the New Orleans Fair Grounds to record attendance levels on Saturday, making normal travel impossible even on the dirt race track that circles the grounds. It’s not just the incongruity of the music (the “jazzy improvisation” of such bands notwithstanding), although Matthews’ set, featuring guest spots from Lenny Kravitz and Paul Simon, did offer little in the way of jazz or heritage. So maybe it’s the sheer number of such acts on the schedule, adding to the pop-cultural homogeny of what’s supposed to be a celebration of regional and worldwide culture and music. Some pop crossover is fine, and even to be expected. But, come on, moe.? Sonia Dada, already? Does anyone else hear the plausibility (not to mention the credibility) stretching to the snapping point?

Sunday, May 6

Allen Toussaint, one of the key architects of classic New Orleans R&B, was in fine form and strong voice, even when running through a medley of some of his more well known contributions to pop music (“Mother-in-Law,” “Working in a Coal Mine”). Wandering over to the Congo Square stage to catch New Orleans’ DJ Jubilee, one was struck by the similarities of the two artists: Jubilee is also a solid performer, and a pioneer of the “bounce” subgenre of hip-hop so prevalent in New Orleans rap. But where Toussaint’s place in history is secure, Jubilee’s groundbreaking work (he coined the phrase “Back That Ass Up,” made famous by Juvenile) goes unheralded outside of the Crescent City.

One man whose work needs little explaining or introduction is Antoine “Fats” Domino, one of the heavyweights at the crossroads of R&B and early rock and roll. Unfortunately, the beloved “Fat Man” succumbed to James Brown syndrome, letting his “Fats Domino Orchestra” warm up a capacity crowd for 20 minutes, barreling through chestnuts like “I Feel Good” and “Mustang Sally,” of all things. This visibly tested the patience of some audience members (including yours truly). The payoff was hit-and-miss: Competent revisitings of classics like “I’m Walkin’,” “Blue Monday” and “Shake, Rattle and Roll” (the latter featuring endearingly gritty, soaring sax workouts) were inflated to accommodate unnecessary solos. But if it seemed like he was coasting at times, few living legends are as deserving of a little slack. And the overwhelmingly positive crowd response was heartwarming--a good sign that the festival has yet to completely buckle under the weight of its more controversial booking policies. There’s hope yet that the spirits of forefathers like Boozoo Chavis (and, of course, Louis Armstrong) won’t be forgotten.

Kevin Moreau is the music editor of liveDaily sister site newsorleans.citysearch.com. Click here to read last week's Jazz Fest report, and find more coverage of the event at neworleans.citysearch.com.