"Robert Johnson: The Complete Recordings" by Robert Johnson

Ranking: #22

Original Release Date: 28 August 1990

Genre: Delta Blues

"The Complete Recordings" is a compilation album featuring recordings that Robert Johnson did throughout 1936 and 1937 in Dallas and San Antonio, TX. Most of the recordings were released in 1937 on earlier albums, when the artist was still alive. Obviously, he was not still alive in 1990 - Columbia Records decided to compile all the recordings Robert Johnson ever made on this album. Considering that it wasn't a contemporary album, it did surprisingly well, selling over a million copies and even winning a Grammy (for Best Historical Album, a category most people probably don't realize exists). Although Robert Johnson's career didn't last very long, as he died in 1938 (we'll get to that in a minute), he has been cited as one of the most influential artists of all time. This is the point where I reiterate that ALL rock music is based on the blues music that was coming out of the 1930s South. Countless musicians point to Robert Johnson specifically as being an influence in their own music, including the two musicians who continued to popularize Blues music after Johnson's death - Muddy Waters and Howlin' Wolf. The size of his impact compared to his actual body of work - which is summed up in the 41 songs on this album - has given rise to legends. Or more specifically, an urban legend.

Early this morning

When you knocked upon my door

Early this morning, ooh

When you knocked upon my door

And I said "hello Satan

I believe it's time to go"

Early in his career, Robert Johnson was not particularly successful. He was an itinerant perform in his 20s, moving from street corner to street corner, pool hall to pool hall, with nothing but his guitar and the clothes on his back. When he did play in more established venues, more often he was playing popular tunes of the day, not the blues music he would come to be known for. In 1936, he sought out to record some of his original songs. He was introduced to Don Law, who would help him with the initial recordings. These were done on a pretty low budget - in fact, they weren't even recorded in a studio. The were recorded in Room 414 of the Gunter Hotel in San Antonio, TX. I was excited to learn this bit of local lore, especially considering that the Gunter purports to be haunted. I also find it interesting because San Antonio is not known as a particularly musical town, but this critical piece of musical history happened here. Moving on, Robert Johnson would later do a second recording session in Dallas, TX. Since the set up in Dallas was more professional, he would end up doing a lot more recordings. In this session, he was able to do at least two takes of each song, which allows musical historians to do more comparative analysis on his performances than any other blues musician of the time. I know that doesn't sound exciting but, if you geek out about music, it is. After these recordings, he somewhat disappeared from history. It wasn't until 30 years later, when a musical historian was doing research on his life came across his death certificate, that we found out what happened. He was found dead on the side of the road near Greenwood, MS. No cause of death was listed. Some say he was murdered by a jealous husband using poison, but since there was no formal autopsy, there is no way to be certain.

Let's move on to those urban legends now. The most common one is that Robert Johnson's reach has been so monumental because he sold his soul to the demon at the crossroads. As a young man, he had a desire to be a great blues musician. He took his guitar to a crossroads near Dockery Plantation at midnight, where he met a man (i.e., The Devil). The Devil took his guitar, tuned it, and played a few songs before handing it back to Johnson. With the exchange, he bestowed Johnson with mastery of the instrument, all for the low, low price of his soul. As such, he is also the first victim of the 27 Club. For those who are unfamiliar, a pattern has been identified with famous artists, athletes, and musicians dying at the age of 27, usually at the height of the career. You're probably familiar with several of the members - Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Amy Winehouse, Jimi Hendrix, and Kurt Cobain. Recently, Anton Yelchin of the most recent Star Trek reboot died in a freak accident, somehow getting pinned between his car and his mailbox after a night out. When the curse comes to get you, it doesn't care how, I suppose - although it must be noted that, in the majority of these cases, the deaths are self-inflicted through long-standing addictions or intentional suicide. Astrologically, the theory for this is the Saturn return, which general occurs anywhere between age 27-31 (Saturn takes approximately 29.5 years to return to the same point in the sky). Since we count the Saturn return as being from when Saturn returns to the same sign in your chart, that usually starts for most people during the 27th year. During this time, Karma comes to collect - Saturn is considered the planet of responsibilities and restrictions. People may experience this as finally settling down and starting a family or it could also mean having past mistakes catching up with you. People often realize during this time that they married the wrong person or that they aren't in the career they want to be in. Regardless, it's usually a period of drastic change for most people. Finally, there is also the urban legend of the cursed record - this one often makes the rounds in popular culture and the artist generally used is Robert Johnson, because of his possible deal with the devil. Essentially, a cursed record brings misfortune to any one who either listens to it or owns it. As someone who plans to have my ashes pressed into a record, this is now a goal I have. According to the company I've researched, my ashes will make approximately 30 records, which I can give to whomever I please. Perhaps it's kind of morbid, but I think it might be a fun hobby to collect records like this. Maybe even start a Record Store of the Dead. Given the recent trajectory of popular culture, stranger things have happened.

Baby, I don't care where you bury my body when I'm dead and gone

You may bury my body, hoo

Down by the highway side

So my old evil spirit

Can get a Greyhound bus and ride

I didn't want to do the astrology of the release day, because I don't think it quite matters for a compilation album. Instead, I decided to look up the chart of Robert Johnson, to understand better the man whose shoulders modern music stands. Looking at his chart, his Sun and North Node were conjunct in Taurus, opposite his Jupiter and South Node in Scorpio. Following his Destiny was an imperative for him but luck on his path might've been more elusive. South Node in Scorpio tends to indicate a certain comfortableness with a chaotic life but it was his Destiny to set down roots and grow something. He never became famous during his lifetime, in spite of his supposed dealings with the Devil. In fact, the impact of his work wouldn't be realized for some time. Johnson was born under Mercury Retrograde. Retrograde planets in a chart is usually indicative of someone who doesn't think the same as the rest of the population. With Mercury Retrograde, it often manifests as an ability to communicate and convey ideas in a way that resonates with people in a special way. A key aspect of Johnson's music is his use of microtonality while singing. Microtonality is using subtle inflections and changes in pitch while singing, which adds emotional depth to the vocals. That's one of the reasons why having multiple performances of the same songs have been essential to studying his style - his performance was different every time because of these changes in inflection. In this age of autotune and remastering, we tend to measure performance ability as the ability replicate studio versions perfectly in a live environment. This does a disservice to the artists, though, because if they are performing live, it should be different. It should be special. Otherwise, you might as well be just sitting alone at home, listening to the radio. Finally, Robert Johnson had Moon in Virgo, which is kind of odd for someone who was a traveling performer. In general, Virgo energy tends to be introverted and prefers controlled environments (cleanliness tends to be especially important). Robert Johnson, when he wasn't performing, was said to be extremely shy and much of the recordings he did in San Antonio were done while he was facing the wall, not the people assisting him with the recording. Of course, he may have also been doing this for corner-loading, to enhance the sound of his guitar. Virgo energy is meticulous and detail-oriented, so being hyper-aware of the angles at which his instrument - his consummate companion - sounds best at would be absolutely on brand.

For today's featured song, I thought it would be fitting to choose "Me and the Devil Blues." I'd also like to plug that Netflix has a documentary on Robert Johnson ("ReMastered"), if you're interested in learning more about this legend.

"Me and the Devil Blues" Video

"Gravedigger's Chant" by Zeal & Ardor

I found Zeal & Ardor on one of my more recent pagan/witch music binges, which is where I pick an artist that I know on Spotify and go through all the artists on the "Fans Also Like" pages. Usually takes me somewhere interesting. For example, today's selection is blues/gospel mixed with black metal. I really like blues, especially those heavily influenced by black spiritual music, like Zeal & Ardor. Z&A was started by Swiss-American musician Manuel Gagneux, who was looking to create a new sound by blending genres that you wouldn't think mix well. I personally think he succeeded. From the Z&A Spotify page, the sound is driven by an idea of an alternate history - what if the African slaves that were brought to America had rebelled against their masters by rejecting Christianity and embracing the polar opposite? The music produced by Z&A seeks to answer the question "what would satanic spirituals sound like?"

Manual Gagneux is very direct in how he approaches the question. Like the traditional spirituals and blues we're familiar with, the subject matter is very dark. It captures the horrors of slavery and the resulting chaotic aftermath of the Jim Crow era. "Gravedigger's Chant" was the first single off of the most recent album, "Stranger Fruit," a play on Billie Holiday's "Strange Fruit," which dealt with the prevalence of lynching in the South, even as recently as the late 1960s. Some would argue we still have lynchings today, they've just taken on a different form.

Bring the dead body down to the graveyard now

Bring the dead down low, down low

Bring the dead body down to the graveyard, sir

Bring the dead down low, down low

I've been blessed to have grown up and live in a time where there are many open witches of color, who are proud of their heritage, whether it be Native American, African, Latinx, Middle Eastern, or Asian. The issue that is coming to the forefront now is recognizing how much of pagan/new age culture was appropriated from minority practices. Some are obvious - like calling any smoke cleansing "smudging" (it's important to note that the act of smoke cleansing itself is not appropriative, but "smudging" refers to a specific Native American ritual). Others are more subtle, like using symbols for logos that have significant meanings to certain minority groups. Particularly, as a Latina, I find more and more people are calling themselves a bruja (that's the popular thing to do) without understanding the culture that brujeria evolved in or even practicing elements of brujeria. And I'm not certain how I feel about what Dia de los Muertos is evolving into, because what I'm increasingly seeing that people view it purely as an aesthetic, without knowing the cultural/religious meaning behind it. It's a weird feeling - I believe it's a beautiful tradition and I'm happy to explain the significance/let others join in, but it should also be given respect. As a result, I'm also seeing a disturbing trend in people screaming "cultural appropriation" even when it's not. So let's talk definitions - Cultural Appropriation is when someone adopts elements from a culture that is not their own. Going even further, it's usually in an exploitative way that also manages to exclude people from the culture they're taking from and without their permission.

For example, one of the most well-known instances of cultural appropriation is one most people won't recognize - Rock 'n' Roll. Rock actually developed out of the blues and jazz culture, which was generally a space for black people. It didn't become popular until Elvis Presley adopted the style and brought it to the masses. A modern equivalent would be rap and hip-hop, forms of which have been exported all over the world. Ironically, these styles have become popular in countries where the general populace harbors somewhat racist views on black people. Another somewhat controversial example would be the commercialization of yoga. It's important to note that many South Asian teachers in the 1960s actively pursued bringing yogic practices and teachings to America. However, the problems start when yoga becomes divorced from its spiritual relevance, cultural significance (the British tried to ban yogic practice during their occupation of India precisely because it separated Indians from something that united them- their cultural and spiritual identity), and the yogic spaces/benefits begin to exclude South Asians and other minorities (i.e., the American view of a yoga practitioner is a middle-aged white woman trying to stay fit). As an avid practitioner of yoga, I'm not saying stop doing yoga - I'm saying ensure you're doing it in a way that is not culturally appropriative. This article has some general guidelines to follow.

I know this rant has gone long but there's one final issue to bring up and that is the issue of "black magic." Don't call it that. There's no such thing as black magic or white magic, and that terminology  has racist/colorist roots. This has wider impact on the minority pagan population. For example, practices and beliefs from Black and (increasingly) Latinx cultures, such as Hoodoo, Vodun, Brujeria, Santeria, and Candomble have the common perception that they are "evil." This is a popular trope in horror films, where the protagonist has to combat an evil entity that was called forth from one of these belief systems. The real world consequences is that practicing elements of these cultures has been banned in some communities. Additionally, the terminology is based on the concept that black = bad/white = good, which is the entire justification for racism. When it comes to magic, practices aren't good or bad, it's the intentions behind them. Darkness isn't inherently bad and light isn't inherently good - it's how you use these elements within your practice that makes the difference. If you're interested in understanding more, there's some great perspective in this article. Unfortunately, on the opposite end of this dynamic, you have white supremacists co-opting pagan beliefs that have European roots, such as Celtic, Druidic, Heathen, and Nordic traditions. For those non-racist practitioners, this can have the highly undesirable side-effect of people assuming they hold white supremacist views simply for displaying symbols of their faith. The Atlantic published a fantastic piece on this issue a few years ago.

In summation, as paganism and witchcraft become more popular (and I foresee this wave continuing for a while, based on what I've seen of the younger generations), there's still some kinks to work out. As you may have guessed, the remedy for a lot of these questions is more research, understanding, and openness. Especially when it comes to the occult, it's always best to learn as much as you can before jumping into things.

"Gravedigger's Chant" Video