Greasy Gris-Gris

Jeff Kravitz

I arrived home from a long bike ride yesterday, frozen to the bone. A package from Amazon was waiting for me, and I quickly fired up the tube amp and cracked the plastic shrink wrap on the superb “High Priest of Psychedelic Voodoo” by Dr. John the Night Tripper. Three LPs worth of greasy gris-gris that quickly warmed my heart and soul.

The late David Gancher said it best in 1970; “If you dig jive, pure jive; if you dig dreaming, if you dig Wolfman Jack, if you ever order barbecue at 4 AM; if you get stoned to watch TV commercials while eating Colonel Sanders fried chicken and drinking warm Ripple — then you are weird enough for Dr. John.”

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