Hoodoo – Kevin Trent Boswell

Hoochie Coochie Man (Slight Return)

Here is my cover of “Hoochie Coochie Man”. This tune was written by the preeminent Godfather of the Blues, Muddy Waters.

Muddy Waters, The Godfather of the Blues

The lyrics are heavily laced with references to the Hoodoo conjure tradition of the American South. One commonly misunderstood line is:

I got the John the Conqueror Root

I’m gonna mess with you

To mess with someone was to put roots on them, meaning to cast spells on that person.

The root known as John the Conqueror (Ipomoea jalapa) is widely regarded as one of the most powerful roots or Plant Spirits; if not the most powerful.

The root, all by itself, was potent and to possess it was to hold power to exert one’s will. However, to possess a mojo hand (aka, mojo bag), made and empowered by a knowledgeable rootworker, was an awe-inspiring thing.

It was not a simple matter to travel to Louisiana and get a mojo, especially for a Black person, who had less opportunities and greater obstacles. If you wanted the magick, the only way to get it was to find a skilled doctor.

This was a man or woman who knew how to coerce the Spirits to work on their behalf. First, you had to find a rootworker and then you had to convince them to make a hand for you and pay them whatever their fee was, no questions asked.

Any rituals they prescribed you or tasks assigned must be followed scrupulously. But once you had a mojo hand, especially one containing John the Conqueror, it meant that you were a force to be reckoned with.

I’m doing all the guitar, bass and vocal parts on this track. I added Slight Return to the title as a little tip of the hat to another major influence of mine, the immortal Jimi Hendrix. Hendrix was well aware of the lore mentioned here and his song “Voodoo Child (Slight Return)” references similar themes.

During the last verse, you’ll see a quote, placed over a pic of Muddy Waters. It comes from the movie Crossroads, starring Ralph Machio; not to be confused with the movie Crossroads, starring Britney Spears.

It’s the story of a young, classical guitarist who dreams of nothing but playing the Mississippi Delta Blues. He’s a classical music major at The Juilliard School of Music but is mostly obsessed with Robert Johnson, arguably the greatest blues man ever.

Robert Johnson, King of the Mississippi Delta Blues — Robert Johnson

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The images in this video are

1) historic pictures of famous, Hoodoo rootworkers and practitioners of Voodoo (or Voudon, Voodou, etc) and a few that just look the part.

2) pictures of myself playing guitar

3) personal photos and video of workings I’ve done

4) random, “bluesy” stuff that gives the appropriate, Mississippi Blues vibe or the Hoodoo/Voodoo, sorcery vibe

5) images from The Key of Solomon, a European magickal grimoire (which became highly important in Hoodoo.

6) stock footage, provided by:

Thanks to the following, for some of the images in the video.

https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Voodoo_Altar_New_Orleans.jpg

a glass of yesterdays

at nineteen

I was smitten with a girl

who loved gin and tonic

she was a preacher’s daughter

in South Carolina

I discovered that

all of what people say

about preacher’s daughters

is blissfully true

I introduced her to

the bubbly summer fizz

and she introduced me to…

well, let’s just say…

I learned to mix

a mean

gin and tonic

as she lay beside me,

naked and asleep

on that motel bed,

I took tequila shots

and reveled in the majesty of

Austin City Limits

the television and I,

both sloppy drunk

with the sounds

of John Hammond

slurring curses through

a mouth harp,

the tube on his finger

causing that steel guitar

to scream bloody murder

and holler for its momma

I sat stupefied

on the edge

of a cheap mattress,

covered in awe

and still coated

with her

Delta Blues cut

jagged holes

into my memory,

with its muddy banks

flesh, sights, screams,

wailing demons

and wobbling fingers

only a cheap television screen

and a cigarette ash,

backlighting

the carnal event

she, now quiet on the bed

Hammond on the screen,

now brutally howling

as if in some type of

infernal pain

a blistering welt

from the bite of a hell hound,

now sulking somewhere

in the mosquito-infested

darkness

“Oh!!! Say,

my momma don’t allow me…

to stay out

aaaaall night long!”

I, now

consumed completely

by cactus juices

and cascades

of flaming guitar notes,

flying out of the

Devil’s fingertips

I straighten my back

and draw in closer

to breathe in her hair

then, toward the television screen

and I fall sleepily beneath

the heavy spell

of it all

now,

standing in a friend’s kitchen,

I think back

on all of it

I spy a bottle of gin

with a little less than

a shot left in it

I open the fridge

lo and behold,

a fresh bottle of

tonic water

I mix the two

and raise

a toast

to the various potions

of summer’s forgetfulness…

to the southern gene pool,

with its extraordinary ability

to produce the most

exquisite specimens

of the female form…

to the Delta blues

its vinyl static,

scratched into my soul…

to John Hammond,

masterful and

merciless…

to the claw marks

on my back…

to the fear

of Jesus

Magus

(Kevin Trent Boswell)

I am getting back on to my Patreon page at https://www.patreon.com/magus72

I’ll be cross-posting here, what I publicly post, over there. But other, patrons-only content will be available to patrons, there.

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Conjure Work

Depths

Wrangle up a monster

From the down below

Summon up a beast

That one can keep and know

A tiny, personal demon

One to call your own

In the furnace flames,

An angel image shewn

Burn the picture well

Into your flesh and mind

Hook it into every pore,

Be sure to be unkind

For the creatures that do dwell here,

In these dark and lonely parts

Sing songs of woe and cowardice

Emanating from empty hearts

Little, naughty things

That upon the pain will feast

Siphoned off a tank of dreams

Of which you know the least

I can retell an ancient tale,

Bound by honor, I will never

To have a shallow type of glory

A broken attempt at being clever

My own private monster

Would certainly not be pleased

It takes the choice and refuses to

Be taunted, mocked or teased

All the lovely portions and parts

Hungers it has now sated

Replaced in time by stupid rhyme

And nonsense, well-debated

This is the thing that demons do

And it’s what fascinates us so

All the places and all the things

They can make us do and go

The Nascent Magician magick course

Conjure Work

The Nascent Magician

Hoodoo, Ceremonial Magick, witchcraft

I don’t normally use this forum to talk about my esoteric practices.

But I have received the nudge to cast a wider net, because there are some searchers out there, looking for where they belong. So I’m putting up this one post, essentially it looks like an advertisement… and it is.

But look deeper and you’ll see that deep down inside, in between the words, there’s a message. It’s not for everyone. In fact, it’s not even for most. It’s only for a few. They will know who they are because they will feel it gnawing in their bones and churning in their guts.

So read this little ad and if it isn’t calling to you, just ignore it. I’ll post a poem right after this to make it up to you 😉

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Through Monday at midnight. Don’t miss the opportunity to practice the arts of Ceremonial, Hoodoo, Pagan magick and Sorcery. Learn to walk the walk.