For our next nerve racking number, we have a rockabilly classic of monstrous proportions.
This moon lit hit is attributed to a fella named Round Robin. Problem is, there seems to be some debate among Rock ‘N Roll aficionados as to whether this song was actually recorded by Round Robin or by its author, Baker Knight.
This doesn’t concern us however, as we aren’t that kind of nerd. We’re a different sort of nerd. So, let’s just say it’s Round Robin, a sort of Chubby Checker wannabe who tried to start his own dance craze out of The Slauson, which some of you may know as a street in downtown L.A.
Unfortunately for Robin, The Slauson (in any of its forms) failed to capture the American public’s imagination the way Chubby’s Twist had. But it certainly wasn’t for a lack of trying. Robin gave it a go with Do The Slauson, Slauson Street, Slauson Shuffletime, Slauson Town and Slauson Party.
What can I say, dude loved him some Slauson.
However, if you listen to any of Round Robin’s catalog and then give I’m The Wolfman a spin, you’re liable to come to the same conclusion as our Rock ‘N Roll Nerd contingency…
“Yeah that’s not the same guy at all.”
…because they sound totally different.
Either way, whoever is really rockin’ the mic here, I’m The Wolfman is a surefire Shindig inclusion that’s sure to get some hairy feet a-movin’.
Main Title (Rosemary’s Baby)by Krzysztof Komeda and Mia Farrow
Fading us out of our witch/spell/magick block is the melancholic and eerie theme from a tale of perhaps the worst witches cinema may have yet seen. Witches so powerful, many have suggested their influence seeped through the silver screen and into our reality.
I know it’s certainly not the type of film we tend to champion around here, and I doubt it would be any Diggers favorite pick (with the exception of one particularly beautiful & faithful reader) Rosemary’s Baby is widely considered one of the finest examples the horror genre has to offer.
And rightfully so, as it’s a fine piece of film-making, in any genre, with a star-making and brilliant performance from Mia Farrow and a supporting cast that provides the best kind of support.
Additionally, Rosemary’s Babyis as much a critique on society of the mid 60′ and men’s abuse and control of women within that society, as it is a critique on American moral and spiritual unraveling and the burgeoning Satanic scene.
Some even say it’s also cursed.
Let’s begin at the beginning…
The film’s source material, Ira Levin’s novel of the same name, was published 1968. It is set in New York City of 1965/1966, or more appropriately, June of 1966,…6/66.
Pitched at a point in history which saw not only the birth of Anton Lavey’s Church of Satan, but when Time Magazine had just famously wondered “Is God Dead?” in an issue Rosemary can be seen reading in the film.
As with any literary success, Hollywood wasn’t far behind. Initially the book was optioned to Alfred Hitchcock, who reportedly turned down the offer. In swooped everyone’s favorite schlockster William Castle, who morgaged his home and purchased the rights for 100,000 with the intent to direct. It was to be his first A-List horror picture, and he was rightly stoked.
He brought the script to Paramount Pictures, but famous executive Robert Evans had other ideas though. There wasn’t any chance in hell he was letting the inventor of “Emergo” and “Percepto” helm the biggest horror property in Hollywood. No, Castle could produce but a young European auteur named Roman Polanski would be brought in to class up the act.
And the the success train kept rolling. Lauded upon release and a blockbuster success, Castle and Evan’s had helped Polanski hit a culture nerve with his first American feature. Not bad.
But then, that’s when the weird shit started happening.
The first victim of Rosemary’s Curse was none other than the composer of tonight’s selection, Jazz musician Krzysztof Komeda. While drinking at a party in Los Angeles shortly after the film premiered, Kryzsztof was “accidentally” shoved of a rocky cliff by author Marek Hłasko. He sustained head injuries that led him into a coma he never awoke from. He died the following April in Poland. He was 37 years old. Fans will no doubt mark the similarity of his fate to that of Edward Hutchins in the film.
Next, though much less severe, was producer William Castle. His kidney’s failed soon after the release, and he was reported to have hallucinated scenes from the film while in the hospital, at one point shouting “Rosemary, for God Sakes put down the knife!”
Most tragic however, and perhaps in need of no further explanation, was the fate of Polanski’s wife Sharon Tate and their then-unborn son at the hands of the Manson Family.
Sharon, who had desperately fought to play Rosemary, was said to have often been lingering around the set, and even eerily appears in the background at Rosemary’s party.
Other strange coincidences can be traced all throughout this tale, such as this bizarre linage of synchronicity:
The words “Healter Skelter” (sic) were scrawled on the scene of the crime at Roman and Sharon’s home on 10050 Cielo Drive. The song Helter Skelter by The Beatles was featured on The White Album, which was mostly written while at the ashram of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi in India. Also in attendance at that time were Donovan, Prudence Farrow (inspiration for the song Dear Prudence) and Rosemary herself, Mia Farrow. On December 8th, 1980, John Lennon was shot in New York City, in the archway of The Dakota Apartments, which will no doubt look familiar to any Rosemary’s Baby fan.
And lastly, I wouldn’t be the first paranoid observer to suggest the strange similarity between Rosemary and Guy’s tale and Polanski’s own career trajectory. Did Roman, like Guy, make some unholy, sacrificial pact for success and legal invulnerability? Only Roman knows for sure. Strange that “Roman” is also Steven Marcato’s false name.
Tonight, The Shindig presents that sweet sort of haunting theme, composed by Krzysztof Komeda. Even more appropriately, Mia Farrow herself provides the quiet vocal accompaniment.
The strange legacy of Rosemary’s Baby, all the players and the true nature of their interconnected fates, may forever remain a mystery. Whatever transpired, whatever it means, whomever or whatever was responsible…beware…because, there’s only one thing we can say for sure…
Since Christopher Lee’s over here talking about The Salem Witch Trial, let’s follow that up with a song about The Salem Witch Trial, aptly titled The Salem Witch Trial.
This rockin’ piece of obscure psychedelia comes from none other than Kiriae Crucible, a band (or hell, even just a lone dude) that I can seem to find absolutely no information about at all.
Any web search for Kiriae Crucible will undoubtedly return this song, an seemingly only this song, the various compilations that contain this song, or places in which you can hear…this song.
Well, Halloween Shindig now proudly joins the ranks of places at which you can also hear this song but find no other information regarding Kiriae Crucible. If you were led here looking for such information (though I sincerely doubt it) then I apologize for being just another repository with absolutely nothing new to offer.
I will say this, though. The 45 above is curiously adorned with the name “Erickson,” which might lead you (as it did me) to wonder if it was not penned (and perhaps even performed) by Halloween hero, Shindigger and all around way-out-cat Roky Erickson.
Beats me though, as a cross-reference of the 2 also returned no results for me.
Bummer.
Anyway, if you do happen to be reading this and actually have information regarding Kiriae Crucible or this song, please leave a comment below or forward said info to ed@halloweenshindig.com. Thanking you in advance, your assistance is greatly appreciated.
For everyone else, just sit back and enjoy this random-ass song about The Salem Witch Trial by a random-ass band (or dude) known simply as Kiriae Crucible, a name which I’m still not even sure how to pronounce exactly.
Speaking of Seasons of the Witch, here’s a song tailor made for the occasion.
Many years ago, while discussing the film Highway to Hell, I stated that simply naming your film after a preexisting song does not automatically quality that song to be a Title Track.
I said this because the song Highway to Hell only appears in the trailer for the film, and not in the actual movie, something I think is important. And while I don’t think that makes it a true Title Track, it’s definitely enough scratch to get a seat at the table.
Though George A. Romero may well have named his film after the Donovan song, he utilizes it to great effect during a montage of noob-witch Jan White procuring magickal supplies from her local witch shop.
You know, that weird store you have right around the corner with the creepy eyeball sign, filled with crucibles, bejeweled daggers and strange smelling shit?
Oh, you don’t have one of those in your town? Well thankfully Jan does, cause she’s gonna need to gear up if she wants her dick spell to work on the young Professors she’s been eying.
I don’t, however, recommend playing with Black Magick. I’ve yet to see one film where that works out in anyone’s favor.
Although, in fairness, it doesn’t not work out for Jan, now that I think about it. She might accidentally kill her husband, but that guy was kind of a douche, and she didn’t really like him anyway. So, I guess you can play with Black Magick and have everything turn out ok.
I still wouldn’t recommend it, though, cause that’s pretty rare.
Here’s Donovan’s classic Halloween witch hit, elevated to Title Track status by George A. Romero.
Here’s another spooky number about spooks from famous Jazz trio Lambert, Hendricks & Ross, only this time, it’s a Halloween song to boot. Double bonus.
This one’s a kinda weird honestly, and the jazz structure can be a bit of a turn-off if that’s not your bag. Additionally, it will all break down about halfway through into a formless sort of scat, where ghostly sounds and spooky noises take the place of actual lyrics.
I like this part. It’s funny to me. I laugh every time I hear these grown adults goofing around and making silly noises.
You may not have the same reaction, and I would understand, but there’s no disputing, it’s a Shindigger for sure.
Supposedly Frank Zappa once called The Shaggs “better than the Beatles.”
Kurt Cobain cited their sole album, Philosophy of the World, as his 5th favorite album of all time.
So they’ve got that going for them.
That same album has also been called “the worst album ever recorded,” and “hauntingly bad.”
Wherever the truth lies for you (as with most things of this nature) will somewhat depend upon your temperament. Say what you will however, The Shaggs, with only 1 album to their credit, managed to record a song about Halloween and we all know what that means as far as The Shindig is concerned. Pick em up!
Perhaps more bizarre than the song however, is how The Shaggs came to be.
Hailing from New Hampshire, The Wiggin sisters were forced together with instruments by their obsessive father Austin. Seems their grandmother had a prophetic vision that one day her son would sire girls who would form a famous band.
That was good enough for old Pops Wiggin, who set about providing training and putting secondhand instruments into the hands of his less than willing daughters. The results were, well…
Legendary singer, songwriter and music critic Cub Koda probably sums it up most accurately:
“There’s an innocence to these songs and their performances that’s both charming and unsettling. Hacked-at drumbeats, whacked-around chords, songs that seem to have little or no meter to them … being played on out-of-tune, pawn-shop-quality guitars all converge, creating dissonance and beauty, chaos and tranquility, causing any listener coming to this music to rearrange any pre-existing notions about the relationships between talent, originality, and ability. There is no album you might own that sounds remotely like this one.”
However, this one from Rolling Stone’s Debra Rae Cohen is pretty spot the fuck on as well:
“The Shaggs warble earnest greeting-card lyrics in happy, hapless quasi-unison along ostensible lines of melody while strumming their tinny guitars like someone worrying a zipper. The drummer pounds gamely to the call of a different muse, as if she had to guess which song they were playing – and missed every time.”
Just one go-round of this tune and every one of these descriptions will all become clear.
As typically, I’m pretty centrist on the matter. The Shaggs produce not the worst music I’ve ever heard but it’s more than just a little difficult to sit through. I wouldn’t say their better than The Beatles, as Zappa suggests, but I do think they’re more interesting. And despite Kurt’s empathic inclusion, I won’t be putting Philosophy of the World on any top five albums list.
What I will be doing however, is including It’s Halloween on The Shindig, because c’mon, how could we not?
“It’s time for games, it’s time for fun. Not for just one, but for everyone!”
Similar to Chuck’s tune, Otis Redding’s Trick or Treat isn’t necessarily about Halloween either. It is more related though, if only because Otis actually uses the word “Halloween.” That’s a bonus.
Despite his utilization of the name, he mostly seems concerned that this floozy is playing games with his emotions. First she’s hot on him, then maybe she gets a little chilly.
Either way, Otis just wants to know what the score is, cause he ain’t about to wait until Halloween to find out he ain’t gettin’ a Treat, which I can only assume is some sort of sexual favor.
What does any of this even have to do with Halloween? Nothing really, I suppose. Then why use Halloween at all? It’s a good question. He gets to incorporate the phrase “trick or treat,” but I don’t see that as a huge selling point from a song writing perspective.
Here, it implies that it’s a treat if the girl loves him, and a trick is she only likes him. That’s pretty odd though, to consider being “liked” a trick. I get what Otis is saying, but it does seem a little strange to perceive the state of being “liked” as mere trickery.
I’d rather be liked than disliked, or straight up hated on, but hey, that’s just me.
At any rate here’s another Trick or Treat song with dubious usage of Halloween, albeit from one of the greats, Mr. Otis Redding.
So, Chuck Berry pretty much invented Rock ‘N Roll, right? Well, at least how we might conceptualize it now anyway? That rhythm and blues styled, riff-based, axe-out-front, back beat driven, power-stance Rock ‘N Roll? The kind that soothes Bob Seger’s soul? Yeah, I think that’s pretty widely agreed upon.
You know what else Chuck Berry did? He wrote a song about Halloween.
Well, kinda.
See, this tune makes no real overt reference to the holiday itself or its traditions. It is, however, called Trick or Treat and that phrase is repeated quite a number of times.
So, when the true King of Rock ‘N Roll straps one on and starts wailing “Trick or Treat, Baby,” The Shindig isn’t about to split hairs.
You know that new Halloween sound you been looking for? Well, listen to this!
Here’s a dusty old ditty that proves folks have been fascinated with Haunted Houses for well over 50 years.
From Jumpin’ Gene Simmons comes this lighthearted tale of terror with an upbeat tempo from 1964. However, this song was originally recorded by Johnny Fuller in 1959. If we’re being honest, we prefer Johnny’s version quite a bit more than Gene’s. It’s faster, more bluesy and Johnny sings the thing with a lot more character. It’s just more fun in Johnny’s hands. Have a listen – you be the judge.
However, we’ve “officially” opted to include Gene’s version on the Shindig for 3 reason:
1. It appears on Elvira’s Haunted Hits (and Vinyl Macabre for that matter)
2. It’s a little more polished and user friendly.
3. KISS’s very own Gene Simmons took his stage name in tribute to Jumpin’ Gene, and that’s pretty great.
Despite starting his career with legendary Sun Records and opening for Elvis Presley, this was Jumpin’ Gene’s only Top 40 hit, and it made it all the way to #11! Not bad for a silly novelty song about a haunted house. I guess people were into that sort of thing back in 1964.
What a world. I can’t picture anything even mildly resembling this song performing as well in 2017.
In fact, check it out at your next Shindig. See how a modern audience reacts to this little rockabilly spookster. My guess? It won’t make it to #11 with any of your guest. But it definitely makes it to at least #144 here on Halloween Shindig.
The last time I checked this was a fucking shindig.
But what is a shindig, exactly?
Well, Merriam-Webster defines shindig as follows:
ˈSHinˌdiɡ/ noun informal
a social gathering with dancing
a usually large or lavish party
Google definitions had this to add:
a large, lively party, especially one celebrating something.
Now, if you listen to any of the turkeys over at Urban Dictionary, they’d all have you believe a shindig is a small affair, consisting of anywhere from 5 to 20 people. One bozo even suggests it can contain no more than 12!
That’s why Webster’s is Webster’s and these idiot kids are logged into Urban Dictionary from their mom’s laptop.
No one better try curtailing our shindig, particularly not because some dildo in the cafeteria uses it improperly. No, we’re going definitive with our socially lavish and lively gathering that’s celebrating something.
And around here, that something is Halloween, which encompasses jack-o-Lanterns, trick or tricking and and all sorts of spooky shit of a generalized nature. That definitely includes Monsters.
From Hanna-Barbera’s 1965 record of the same name, Monster Shindig looks to muscle in on Boris Pickett’s racket by throwing their characters Super-Snooper and Blabber Mouse into the mix, stumbling upon just this type of haunted jamboree.
The cat and mouse team doesn’t show up in the song however, leaving this bizarro tune free to roam around the streets on Halloween night.
So, let’s have a party…big big big and kick-off the second half of our playlist right, with another kind of shindig, performed here by Danny Hutton, who some of you may know as one third of Three Dog Night.
