The 500 - #144 - The Night Tripper Gris-gris - Dr. John

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.

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Album: #144
Album Title: The Night Tripper - Gris gris

Artist: Dr. John

Genre: New Orleans R&B, Swamp Blues, Swamp Rock, Psychedelic Funk

Recorded: Gold Star Studios, Los Angeles

Released: January, 1968

My age at release: 2
How familiar was I with it before this week: Not at all

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at 356, dropping 212 places
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: I Walk On Guilded Splinters

The 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.

The 500 - #145 - Straight Outta Compton - N.W.A.

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.
 

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Album: #145
Album Title: Straight Outta Compton

Artist: N.W.A.

Genre: West Coast Rap, Gangsta Rap

Recorded: Audio Achievements Studios, Torrance, California

Released: January, 1989

My age at release: 23
How familiar was I with it before this week: A couple songs

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at 70, rising 75 places
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Straight Outta Compton

In his 1890 novel, The Picture of Dorian Gray, satirist Oscar Wilde famously wrote:

“There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.” 

With this quip, Wilde critiqued the vanity and superficiality of Victorian high society. He challenged the era’s rigid emphasis on morality and reputation, suggesting that notoriety, even though scandalous, was preferable to being ignored. By mocking the obsession with public image, Wilde exposed the hypocrisy of a culture that valued appearances over authenticity, and celebrity over character.

The quote resonates with me as a middle school educator. There are times when a student feels excluded by their peers. Heartbroken, they confide that former friends are “talking behind their back” or “spreading rumours.” In these moments, I turn to Wilde’s words to offer comfort and perspective. I explain that being talked about, while painful, can also be a sign of significance…that they matter enough to be noticed.

To deepen the message, I share a lyric from The Go-Go’s song Our Lips Are Sealed, which wisely reminds us:

“There’s a weapon we can use in our defense — silence.”

Together, Wilde’s wit and the Go-Go’s wisdom can help students reclaim a sense of agency, reminding them that their value isn’t defined by gossip, and that silence can be a powerful response.

Our Lips Are Sealed from the debut album 
Beauty and the Beat from The Go-Go's
#414

In 1989, the hip hop group N.W.A., hailing from the Compton neighborhood of Los Angeles, California, burst onto the North American music scene with their debut studio album Straight Outta Compton. In many ways, their unapologetic presence echoed Oscar Wilde’s philosophy that being talked about, even scandalously, is better than being ignored. N.W.A. didn’t just make music, they made noise, challenging societal norms and demanding attention.

Originally a six-member collective, the group featured four rappers: Eazy-E (Eric Wright), Ice Cube (O’Shea Jackson), MC Ren (Lorenzo Patterson), and  Arabian Prince (Kim Nazel) -- who left before the album was released. Supporting them were two innovative DJs, Dr. Dre (Andre Young) and DJ Yella (Antoine Carraby), who crafted the group’s sound using drum machines, turntables, and early sampling technology to drive the rhythm and melody. Together, they redefined the boundaries of hip hop and forced mainstream audiences to confront the realities of life in South Central L.A.

The original five members of N.W.A. (Arabian Prince left
the group before the release of Straight Outta Compton)

I was in my mid-twenties when the controversies surrounding N.W.A. reached my corner of the world, Southwestern Ontario. At the time, I was managing a restaurant in North Toronto, near the Downsview area. The location sat among two vibrant cultural hubs and a college campus, creating a unique social dynamic. To the west were York University and the Jane and Finch intersection, a densely populated, low-income area renowned for its extraordinary cultural diversity, with over 100 nationalities and a multitude of languages spoken. To the east lay North York and Thornhill, the heart of Toronto’s Jewish community, characterized by high-rise apartments and a growing number of Jewish-owned businesses, including kosher markets, wig shops, and clothing stores.

North Toronto area where I worked (see pin). Jane & Finch
neighbourhood to the west, Jewish neighbourhood to the east.

This geographic intersection was reflected in the restaurant’s staff. Roughly a third came from the Jane and Finch area, primarily working in the back of house. Another third hailed from the Jewish community, working as servers and hosts. The remaining staff were university students and second-generation Chinese immigrants. For me, a young man raised in predominantly WASPy environments, it was an eye-opening and enriching experience, one that broadened my understanding of cultural identity, community, and the power of music to spark conversation across boundaries.

At night, during closing duties, the kitchen staff often played hip hop music on a cassette deck, including Straight Outta Compton. At the time, I didn’t grasp its innovative brilliance or cultural significance. Like many in the WASPy white majority, I dismissed it as simplistic, aggressive, and laced with misogyny, homophobia, and even racism. I suspect I saw it as a threat to the music of my generation. Ironically, most members of N.W.A. were my age. However, their cultural experiences were vastly different.

The group’s confrontational tone and unapologetic language were jarring, especially to someone like me, unfamiliar with the realities of systemic racism and urban poverty. The track F**k Tha Police felt unnecessarily caustic, and I struggled to understand its purpose. Looking back, I realize it wasn’t just provocation, it was protest, a raw and urgent expression of lived experience that I simply wasn’t equipped to interpret at the time.

I wasn’t the only one who misinterpreted Straight Outta Compton. Tipper Gore, wife of future Vice President Al Gore, led a high-profile campaign against explicit music in the 1980s through the Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC). Her activism began in 1984 after buying Prince’s Purple Rain for her 11-year-old daughter and being shocked by the lyrics in Darling Nikki, which referenced masturbation. Disturbed by the lack of warning labels, she rallied support from other Washington insiders to form the PMRC.

Prince - Purple Rain (#76 on The 500)

The group compiled the infamous “Filthy Fifteen”-- a list of songs they deemed offensive and featuring artists such as Prince, Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, AC/DC, and Def Leppard. Their efforts culminated in a Senate hearing in September, 1985, where musicians, including Frank Zappa, John Denver, and Twisted Sister’s Dee Snider, testified against what they saw as censorship and a threat to artistic freedom.

Zappa, Snider and Denver testify in front of Tipper Gore
and a Senate Hearing on artistic freedom.

Ultimately, the PMRC’s campaign led to the creation of the now-iconic “Parental Advisory: Explicit Lyrics” sticker, which began appearing on albums in 1990. Straight Outta Compton was among the first records to retroactively bear the label, a symbol of both controversy and cultural impact.

However, in Wilde’s immortal words: – “The only thing worse than being talked about, is not being talked about" -- the controversy around N.W.A. only served to amplify their reach, especially to white, suburban youth, who pushed Straight Outta Compton to triple platinum status (three million records sold) the following year.

By the time I left that Toronto job and returned to London, Ontario, to continue my university studies, N.W.A. had become a cultural phenomenon. The generation just behind me was ravenous for the group’s sound and raw social commentary. They recognized something that took me longer to understand: N.W.A.’s music wasn’t just entertainment, it was journalism, reporting on the harsh realities of life in South Central L.A. Their refusal to sanitize their message for white audiences or advertisers was a radical act of defiance. As Ice Cube said in 1989:

“Our music's not shocking to people who know that world. It's reality. It's shocking to outsiders. Sometimes the truth hurts.”

Looking back, I realize that Straight Outta Compton didn’t just challenge the music industry…it challenged listeners like me to confront truths we hadn’t been exposed to. And that, perhaps, is the real power of art -- to disrupt, to provoke and to be talked about. After all, when it comes to issues of social equity, the only thing worse than being talked about…

The 500 - #146 - Aja - Steely Dan

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. 

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Album: #146
Album Title: Aja

Artist: Steely Dan

Genre: Jazz Rock, Pop Rock, "Yacht Rock?", Art Rock

Recorded: Multiple Studios in New York City & Los Angeles

Released: September, 1977

My age at release: 12
How familiar was I with it before this week: Quite

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #63, rising 83 places
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Black Cow

 

INTRODUCTION

This week, I am delighted to welcome back my friend Heather Keep to guest blog for one of her favourite records of all time, Aja, by Steely Dan. Heather has been part of my musical journey since high school and we have both influenced and celebrated each other’s tastes. She previously posted on #The500Blog back in January, 2021, for another Steely Dan record, Pretzel Logic. You can read that here.

SOME BACKGROUND

Aja is the sixth studio record from American rock band Steely Dan. Released in 1977, it’s a smooth, sophisticated blend of jazz, rock, and pop that showcases the band’s obsession with perfection. The album features complex arrangements, top-tier session musicians, and cryptic lyrics that reward repeat listens. Steely Dan was formed by Walter Becker and Donald Fagen in 1971. The pair became legendary for their studio wizardry, meticulous focus on perfection and dry wit. They also refused to tour for much of their career, in part because of stage fright, but also because the level of precision captured on the records was impossible to replicate at a live performance.  

Aja is often cited as a cornerstone of the “yacht rock” genre, a catchall term coined in 2005 by comedy writers J.D. Ryznar, Hunter Stair and David Lyons for their satirical web series of the same name. The series humorously chronicled the careers of soft rock icons such as Michael McDonald, Kenny Loggins and Steely Dan, retroactively defining a genre that had never been named during its heyday in the late 1970s and early 1980s.

Enjoy Heather’s post

The Neural Bond: Why Steely Dan Still Defines Us

I've recently come to understand more thoroughly the scientific reasons for my enduring love and appreciation of Steely Dan's music. There's a neurochemical explanation for why our brains form such unbreakable attachments to the music of our youth—bonds that remain strong well into adulthood and simply don't weaken over time. In a sense, our brains stay permanently wired to the artists and songs of our formative years. We almost have no choice in the matter.

My sister Allison and I after a piano recital, circa 1978, right around
the time Aja was on the radio and playing at home.

My logical self finds this idea fascinating, while other parts are uncomfortable with the determinism of it. It's well known that when we listen to music, our brains release neurotransmitters, like dopamine, that create feelings of pleasure and reward. While this is true at every stage of life, the years from 12 to 22 are significant because of the accelerated development of our brains. Our capacity for neuroplasticity is at its peak during these years and coupled with the heightened emotions and first-time experiences of adolescence, musical connections are forged like steel. We are becoming ourselves at this time as the music of our youth literally defines us.  

This also explains why I have low tolerance for today's popular music charts, with a few exceptions. Rather, I find myself really leaning into new music, trying to secure some mental real estate for that sweet spot that came so easily as a youth. Inevitably, I retreat to my favourites. Reflecting on these neurological facts now, it's clear to me why I still love Steely Dan. I wrote about my youth and introduction to Steely Dan in a previous blog (link here).  

Album cover for Steely Dan's Pretzel Logic (#386 on The 500)

Aja: The Pursuit of Sonic Perfection

Aja, released in 1977 as Steely Dan's second-to-last album, maintains its reputation as an exquisite production today. I doubt we'll ever hear a remastering by Donald Fagan -- the quest for sonic perfection achieved by him and Walter Becker stands as a benchmark that audio engineers still use to test fidelity. Production quality aside, the music feels expansive, enveloping listeners in its sophisticated jazz-rock rhythms. Steve Gadd's famous drum solo on the title track inspired a generation of drummers, while Wayne Shorter's tenor saxophone solo on the same piece is simply outrageous -- gorgeous in its complexity and range.

Steely Dan is Walter Becker (left) and Donald Fagen.

Beyond the Yacht Rock Myth

Steely Dan has been unfairly credited as a progenitor of "Yacht Rock," if we can even call it a genre. The band's sonic evolution is remarkable: listen to Reelin' in the Years from Can't Buy a Thrill (1972), then follow it with Don't Take Me Alive from The Royal Scam (1976), and you'll hear how their sound was developing -- not yet as fusion-oriented as Aja, but clearly evolving. But Yacht Rock? The vast majority of Steely Dan's catalog doesn't fit that narrative of Michael McDonald harmonies and Fender Rhodes pianos. Keyboardist Michael Omartian actually said his piano work on Rikki Don't Lose That Number from Pretzel Logic (1974)  was in a country style -- decidedly pre-Yacht Rock territory.

The truth is that Aja represented Fagen and Walter Becker finally achieving what they'd always wanted to do -- write songs like the title track Aja with complex chord progressions, unique melodies, and the freedom to experiment. Their earlier commercial successes provided the creative license to bring together premium jazz and fusion musicians for the recording. This is why you won't see the same band members on every track -- the musicians changed according to the writers' and producers' evolving tastes and inspirations.

 

The Full Experience

The best way to experience this record is through a high-quality vintage vinyl pressing on the best system you can access, preferably with excellent headphones. While I don't consider myself an audiophile, I appreciate descriptions like "tubey magical midrange" and "tight punchy bass" that vintage record sellers use to capture what makes these Aja pressings special.

If you haven't already, I encourage you to give Aja a proper listen. Maybe you'll find that neural sweet spot and form a new bond with the legendary Steely Dan and create fresh pathways of neural nostalgia to cherish for years to come.

 

The 500 - #147 - Surrealistic Pillow - Jefferson Airplane

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. 

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Album: #147
Album Title: Surrealistic Pillow

Artist: Jefferson Airplane

Genre: Folk Rock, Psychedelic Rock, Acid Rock

Recorded: RCA Victor Studios, Hollywood, California, USA

Released: February, 1967

My age at release: 1
How familiar was I with it before this week: Several Songs

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #471, dropping 324 places
Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: White Rabbit

In 2004, the hottest show on television was Lost, a mystery-adventure drama about plane crash survivors stranded on a mysterious island. As they struggled to survive, each episode revealed their past through strategically placed flashback sequences, deepening the intrigue surrounding both the characters and the island’s secrets. By the winter break that year I, along with 35 million North American viewers, was hooked. In a time before streaming services, it was appointment viewing -- Wednesdays at 8 p.m.. When reruns began airing during the winter, I started recording episodes with the goal of building a multi-curricular unit around Season One for middle school children.

The following spring, I work-shopped my newly created Lost Unit with my Grade 8 class, and, as expected, they were riveted. Their enthusiasm carried into every reading, writing, math, science and discussion activity, creating a level of engagement unlike anything I’d seen in my first decade of teaching. I used their feedback to refine the unit, and later drew on that experience to complete my Master’s Degree in Education, which I began in the fall of 2006.

As the Lost Unit expanded in both scope and structure, I became increasingly fascinated by how deeply students connected with the series and its characters. They were captivated by the mysteries and hyper-focused on subtle details hidden throughout each episode, often referencing clues, debunking red herrings and reveling in plot twists with remarkable insight. This engagement translated into noticeable improvements in their writing, speaking, and critical thinking skills.

My Master’s research focused on student engagement, particularly among 12 - 14 year-olds. At the time, I believed I had stumbled upon something revolutionary and was feeling pretty confident that I would reveal groundbreaking revelations to the education community. However, I was quickly disabused of that notion when I discovered the work of Kieran Egan, a professor of education at Simon Fraser University. Egan had already articulated many of the ideas I was exploring, especially through his theory of Imaginative Education. His collection of essays, Children’s Minds, Talking Rabbits & Clockwork Oranges, became a cornerstone of my studies. I devoured Egan’s body of work, recognizing in his writing the theoretical foundation for what I had observed in my classroom.

In summary, Lost fits many of the touchstones of imaginative learning highlighted in his essays. The show was rich in the things pre-teen and teen learners are cognitively designed to connect with, including:

• Compelling Storytelling
• Mystery and Wonder
• Emotionally Engaging Characters
• Symbolism and Metaphor
• Cross Curricular Connections
• Philosophical and Ironic Thinking

Unravelling the mysteries in each episode of Lost could even begin with the episode titles, which I used to prompt discussion and prediction. One of my favourites was Episode 4, White Rabbit, which is also the title of the tenth track on this week’s record, Surrealistic Pillow, by Jefferson Airplane -- a psychedelic-folk rock band from San Francisco whom I discussed in my April, 2021 post. White Rabbit is one of Jefferson Airplane’s biggest hits and is ranked at #455 in Rolling Stone Magazine’s 500 Greatest Albums of All Time (2021) as well as their song Somebody To Love from the same album. The latter sits at #274.

Airplane and the episode of Lost borrowed the term White Rabbit from the well known novel Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, published in 1865 by author Charles Dodgson (under the pen name Lewis Carroll), The “children’s book” follows the title character, Alice, who chases a white rabbit into an imaginative world filled with whimsical characters, unpredictable adventure and playful language. However, it is also filled with philosophical ideas, puzzles (logical and illogical) and satirical commentary on Victorian society.

The episode of Lost, with the same name, centers on a key protagonist, Jack, who is haunted by visions of his deceased father. He chases visions through the jungle, much like Alice chasing the rabbit. The title and theme reflect Jack’s internal struggle with leadership, grief, and identity, and also mark the beginning of his heroic journey in the series.

In White Rabbit, a physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted, Jack discusses
leadership and the pursuit of "ghosts" with fellow castaway, John Locke.

A psychedelic classic, this week’s playlist selection, White Rabbit, uses imagery from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland to explore themes of curiosity, altered perception and rebellion against conformity. As you might imagine, the exploration of the episode title from Lost can lead down a a veritable "rabbit hole" of discussion topics. This provides a teacher with plenty of options to connect students with classic literature, poetry, and literary devices -- including symbolism and metaphor. It is also a perfect place to discuss the pitfalls and risks of recreational drug use from the Ontario Health Curriculum.

Jack, middle, is pressed to make a leadership decision about the
dwindling water supply in the fourth episode of Lost; White Rabbit

Eventually, I built the Lost Unit into an eight-week syllabus and presented it to educators in my board and Ontario. It has been used by dozens of teachers and has been delivered to thousands of Grade 7 & 8 students. In fact, it has spread so far that I sometimes meet educators who, while we are discussing lesson plans, excitedly tell me about it -- not realizing that I am the author.

I’ve taken a break from the unit over the past two years. I was getting a little tired of delivering some of the lessons and my best teaching happens when I am deeply engaged in the material. However, I am debating a reworking of the lessons and activities for the upcoming school year. If there is an educator reading this post and is interested in the unit, feel free to reach out – tv14101@tvdsb.ca . It is fun to present the unit at the same time as another class so that students can share their writing in the same way I share this blog -- to an authentic audience.