Hear the word Voodoo and your mind probably conjures up all manner of dark and perhaps sinister ideas. But that take on it is just something perpetuated by filmmakers and TV writers looking for a cheap and wildly inaccurate thrill. Spend time in places such as New Orleans, as Andrew Clendenen has, and you will have a better understanding of this often misunderstood and misrepresented path.
And it is the positivity of the Voodoo teachings, its healing and spirituality, its blend of Catholicism and West African rituals that runs through this buoyant and infectious song. Telling the tale of a woman who believes she is the reincarnation of Marie LaVeau, (who I urge you all to read up on) a famous Voodoo practitioner and inspiration for many artists and writers, ‘Voodoo Dream’ is everything unexpected as a sonic vehicle for such tales.
It pops, it rocks, it is danceable, and deftly done; it grooves with the slinky, seductive force of the heady atmospheres of The South being pulled onto the modern dancefloor. Amid its upbeats and outward infectiousness, delicate guitar lines and tribal-pop beats, chiming sonic motifs and arrays that replicate the found sounds of that intoxicating world merge and mingle, is an unexpectedly easy and accessible rhythm, a world away from the expectations of those on the outside.
Lyrically, the song steps through worlds, a layered and, if you choose to delve into it, (which as I say, you should) blended tale of fact and fiction. It’s roots lay in history, its narrative pushes through a more speculative fiction and the final result is a wonderful blend of what was and what might be. Mystique and melody, history and harmony, all in one groovesome tune.
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