
One of the main things I want to do with this blog is write about my current obsession with Voodoo-related music, specifically obscure Voodoo-related vinyl, such as the shockingly good record above – which I managed to score on Ebay last week.
It's an extremely rare 1953 recording of "Authentic music and rhythms of Haiti" by Emy de Pradines and the Haiti Dance Chorus and Orchestra. According to the liner notes, Emy de Pradines is the daughter of a Haitian poet, composer and author who wrote under the name of Candiau. I so far haven't been able to turn up any further information about either of them on the internet, but the liner notes are pretty extensive. Apparently, the Haiti Dance Chorus consisted of "12 girls who both dance and sing", and the Haiti Dance Orchestra consisted of Rada drums, bamboo horns, sticks clacked together, cha-cha shakers, and – unusually for Voodoo rhythms – flute and guitar.
The seller included some information about the record label, which also gives it a bit of context:
"Sometimes a record is so far ahead of its time that it’s almost impossible to believe a U.S. record label would press it. This is truly one of those records. This is an incredibly rare New York City Mono 1st pressing on the Deep Groove Remington Label from 1953. In the early fifties, the Remington Label was billed as a “budget” label, although part of the reason was that much of the material on their records was not mainstream and it was cheap to produce at that time. Because of the nature of their material, these records were produced in small numbers and even then did not sell well. However the material on most of the records was outstanding for its field, and the one we are offering here is exceptional.
It could broadly be defined as Haitian Vodou ritual music, and a lot of the tracks are songs for various Lwa, but it's nothing like any of the more widely available recordings of ritual music that I've encountered, such as the various releases available on Soul Jazz. It's almost like a weird Haitian version of a 1950s exotica record in places, mostly due to the very non-traditional presence of the flute and guitar, and the delightful vocal stylings of Ms de Pradines and her chorus.
The tracks themselves are extremely varied, opening with a "Banda" drum rhythm, and then going into a track called "I Man Man Man", in which the names of various Lwa are called out one-by-one until a possession occurs. I recognise Simbi, and Ogoun Badagris, and a couple of others who get name checked, but I've never heard of some the names called out, which are all presumably local line of transmission Lwa specific to whichever region of Haiti the record was recorded in.
The next track is called "Choucoune", a love song of the romantic period dating to around 1900 and based on a Meringue rhythm. This is followed by "Negress Quartier Morin", which is a call and response number where one singer says: "I am going to dance Voodoo, but I cannot dance in these old clothes – lend me your skirt!", and the answer comes back: "No, I will not give you my skirt!" and so on for various items of clothing.
Side A closes with a beautiful song for Erzulie Freda Dahomey, the goddess of love. As the liner notes say: "The singer calls Erzulie until the Goddess enters her body and possesses her. Then perfumed and arrayed in the robe and jewelry of Erzulie, the possessed takes on the characteristics of the Goddess. Erzulie represents love in spiritual form. She is sweet and good and can do no evil."
Side B opens with a lullaby called "Dodo Titit Maman", probably of French origin. It's a funny sort of a lullaby though, given that it is based around the comforting refrain: "If you do not sleep, the crab will eat you; if you do not sleep, the cat will eat you."
Next up is "Rasbodail rhythm", which is probably my favourite track on the record. The notes say that it is influenced by the Taino and Arawak Indian rhythms, the original inhabitants of Haiti whose rites were incorporated into Vodou. I can hear it, as it has that fiery Petro quality to the drums, which tends to signify the Taino or Arawak inspired rites. It's carnival music, and conjures up images of wild, dangerous and otherworldly torchlit processions.
The next track is called "Loa Azaou" and is an invocation to a feared deity of black magic, whose name I've never encountered before. This one is spine chilling. I'm actually a bit uncomfortable about casually playing this track in my house, given what it seems to be calling on and what the notes imply about the personality in question. You sometimes have to be a bit careful with some of these mysterious invocatory spirit rhythms recorded onto old vinyl...
It is followed by "Panamam Tombe", a humourous song about a Haitian president who was forewarned that if he lost his Panama hat, he would also lose his presidency. The song tells the story that on the way to Jacqmel, a wind blew the hat from his head and he simultaneously lost his power. There's lots of stuff in Haitian songs and folklore about hats, and they often seem to function as a metaphor for consciousness or control of oneself. I guess this comes from the importance of one's head as the seat of spirit, and also connects to the importance of haircuts in a lot of African Diaspora trads. There's a well known song for Erzulie La Sirene that has a line about being careful that your hat does not fall into the sea, as that is when she might snatch you away beneath the waters.
The final track is another great one called "Mrele, Mrele, Mrele", the defiant and triumphant cry of a girl whose father is a Voodoo priest and whose mother is a priestess of the mysteries. "No evil spirit can touch me! I call, I shout, I challenge! None can hurt me!" she sings.
The chap I bought the record from was kind enough to put some sound clips up on his Ebay page, which are still live, so I thought I'd embed them here to give a taste of this fantastic treasure. I wouldn't say they are the best tracks on the record, but I'm not set up to convert from vinyl to mp3 myself at the moment so at least its a sample. Enjoy!
Banda drums:
Panamam Tombe: