Ok, so this is where things get a little strange. This is where you need to adopt an open mind, otherwise it is simply not worth reading on. This is by no means a commercial record. It has no definable, commercial traits. The most common reaction I've had to playing this album is "What the fuck?!" which, to me, is far more successful than "This is shit." It is so out-of-the-ordinary that Gris Gris is either a bonafide winner or a certain loser. There aren't many who deem it 'alright'. I absolutely love it, and that's why it has made it onto my Classic Album Review blog.
Dr John, otherwise known as Mac Rebennac, is a stunning and unique musician who has been making records for over forty years. He is an elder-statesman of the New Orleans scene, whose diversions into the weird and wonderful have amounted to an amazing career's work. Gris Gris, Dr John's debut album, was released in 1968 under the ATCO label - a subdivision of Atlantic. It is said that Ahmed Ertgun, the legendary pioneer of the Atlantic label, was reluctant to release it at all, exclaiming: "how can we market this boogaloo crap?" However, it went on to receive great critical acclaim, and even achieved #143 in Rolling Stone Magazine's Greatest 500 Albums Ever.
Gris Gris is out there on its own. Way out there. It begins with an African-style, cult jam in which Rebennac declares: "They call me Dr John the night tripper/Got my satchel of gris gris in my hand." The bleeding saxophone is the only thing that stops it sounding tribal, yet it is totally hypnotic, just like the second track Danse Kalinda Ba Doom. The vocals here are haunting, eerie, possessive even. On first listen, after an all day session around the pubs and bars of Sheffield, I remember being utterly bewitched by what I was hearing. Mama Roux is soulful and delivers some relief from the intensity of the occult, and Danse Fambeaux, despite being a tuneful chant, displays some fantastic guitar playing and magical harmonies.
Croker Courtbullion is fascinating; like something straight out of Joseph Conrad's Heart Of Darkness, it is frightening, mysterious, tense and spectral. The sound scape is uncanny; imagine yourself deep in the jungle being hunted by cannibals - now if that doesn't sell it to you, nothing will. Jump Sturdy, the penultimate track, is a crazy, boogie-woogie meets tribal blues number in which Dr John's supernatural lyrics hit their heady heights: "People say she used to dance with the fish/Some people say they juggled fire in a dish/Living on the Bayou Saint Joan/She raised her hand and caused an electrical storm." I Walk On Gilded Splinters, the final oracle here to behold, is a genius, moody ramble through the night's ills, and the highlight of the whole record. The fact that Paul Weller's fantastic cover of this song lies on my favourite album of all time, Stanley Road, only heightens Rebennac's credentials. The original is equally as great though, admittedly.
One Friday night in May 2006 I caught the Northern Line into Liverpool to watch Dr John perform his avaricious blend of New Orleans blues/world/cult/psychedelic rock at the majestic Philharmonic Hall, probably my favourite venue. He arrived on stage in an immaculate cream suit, feather-adorned trilby, and with a skull headed cane, sitting at his incense smothered grand piano with candles and lamp lights, beautiful rugs and pieces of artwork hung all over the stage. His performance was every inch as mesmerising as his records; a true one off, master of his craft, and creative visionary. Only an open mind can open doors; Gris Gris certainly opened mine.
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