I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.
Album: #144
Album Title: The Night Tripper - Gris grisArtist: Dr. JohnGenre: New Orleans R&B, Swamp Blues, Swamp Rock, Psychedelic Funk
Recorded: Gold Star Studios, Los AngelesReleased: January, 1968My age at release: 2
How familiar was I with it before this week: Not at allIs it on the 2020 list? Yes, at 356, dropping 212 places
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: I Walk On Guilded SplintersThe music scene in 1968 was one of the most explosive, diverse and transformative in modern history. Amidst global cultural upheaval, music became a mirror and a megaphone as it blended rebellion, experimentation, and a deepening sense of political urgency and spiritual searching. In fact, 22 albums from 1968 appear on Rolling Stone Magazine’s 500 Greatest Albums of All Time (2012 edition), including eight in the Top 100.
Rock music got heavier, more psychedelic, and more politically charged. The Beatles released The White Album, Jimi Hendrix unleashed Electric Ladyland and The Rolling Stones returned to raw blues with Beggars Banquet.
Folk rock, Americana, and protest music evolved in bold directions. The Band’s Music From Big Pink redefined roots rock, The Byrds’ Notorious Byrd Brothers fused country and psychedelia, Simon & Garfunkel’s Bookends offered poetic introspection, and Johnny Cash’s At Folsom Prison brought outlaw country into the mainstream.
Soul, funk and R&B deepened their emotional and political resonance. Aretha Franklin released Lady Soul, Sly and the Family Stone began work on Stand!, and James Brown declared Black pride with his landmark single Say It Loud -- I’m Black and I’m Proud.
Even jazz and avant-garde music were breaking boundaries. Miles Davis edged toward fusion with Filles de Kilimanjaro, while John Coltrane’s posthumous Cosmic Music pushed jazz into spiritual terrain.
Meanwhile, art rock flourished: The Doors (Waiting for the Sun), Pink Floyd (A Saucerful of Secrets), and Frank Zappa (We’re Only in It for the Money) released albums that blended dark poetry, whimsical psychedelia and biting satire.
And in the midst of this vibrant musical kaleidoscope, a New Orleans-born songwriter and performer named Malcolm John Rebennack, better known by his stage persona Dr. John, was conjuring something entirely different in a Los Angeles studio -- a voodoo-soaked debut called Gris-Gris.Gris-gris (pronounced gree-gree) is a type of talisman or charm traditionally used for protection, healing or good luck. Rooted in West African spiritual practices, it was carried to the Americas through the transatlantic slave trade and became a central element in Haitian and Louisiana Voodoo. |
| A gris-gris from the West African Tuareg People. |
Typically, a gris-gris is a small cloth bag filled with a symbolic mix of items -- herbs, stones, bones, hair, written prayers, or other spiritually charged objects. It can be worn on the body, placed in a home, or buried in a meaningful location. While often used with positive intentions (to attract love, ward off illness, or invite success) it can also serve more protective or retaliatory purposes, such as hexing or shielding against enemies. Years ago, I played pick-up hockey with a chum who swore by his leather gris-gris. He wore it, a small satchel tied to a suede cord, around his neck, resting near his sternum. Inside were a handful of inexpensive but, to him, spiritually potent gemstones. Ironically, during one particularly aggressive scrimmage, he was checked hard into the boards…face first. The impact drove the satchel into his chest, leaving him with a bruised chest plate. So much for good luck that day. When Dr. John titled his debut album Gris-Gris, he wasn’t just naming a record, he was casting a spell. Drawing from the mystical traditions of New Orleans voodoo, he blended psychedelic soundscapes, ritualistic rhythms, and swampy incantations to create something that felt less like an album and more like a sonic talisman. Gris-Gris is hypnotic, mysterious, and steeped in spiritual symbolism.
Released in the chaotic creative storm of 1968, the album absorbed the influences swirling around it, but never conformed to them. It’s psychedelic, but not in the flower-power San Francisco sense. It’s bluesy, but not Chicago slick. It’s funky, but not James Brown tight. Instead, it’s a strange and simmering gumbo of voodoo chants, jazz improvisation, R&B grooves, and psychedelic haze. It is an album that sits at the crossroads of genres and defies easy categorization even today. Its inclusion on The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time, especially at a lofty #144 ranking, might seem surprising at first glance. Gris-Gris had no hit singles, modest sales, and is rarely cited as a direct influence by mainstream artists. And yet, its eerie, genre-defying atmosphere has quietly echoed through decades of music. The album’s final track, I Walk on Gilded Splinters, has proven especially enduring. It has been covered, sampled and reimagined by a wide range of musicians. Most notably, Beck built the rhythm track for his 1993 breakout hit Loser around a drum loop from Johnny Jenkins’ version of Gilded Splinters.In many ways, Gris-Gris, like the voodoo traditions that inspired it, endures as a fascinating artifact from a world I don’t fully understand, but can’t help being captivated by. I’ve always been a sucker for a little superstitious lore woven into my media diet, and this album fits right in. Back in the late ’80s, my wife-to-be and I bonded over films such as Angel Heart and The Serpent and the Rainbow…moody, mystical, mysterious and steeped in shadowy voodoo vibes. Listening to this record stirred up those same feelings, my own gumbo of curiosity, unease and sonic appreciation.So maybe I don’t need to understand Gris-Gris or its placement on this list. Like any good spell, it works best when you just let it take hold. Regardless, when I attempt to return to hockey again following a two-year, hip-replacement hiatus I’ll certainly leave my gris-gris in the locker room.
