The original shock rocker: Screamin’ Jay Hawkins

When discussing shock rockers, we typically mention Alice Cooper, Slipknot, Rob Zombie, Iggy Pop and, regretfully, Marilyn Manson. All have done their bit to push the boundaries of rock ‘n’ roll by imbuing their music with a clearly defined artistic slant, augmented by stark aesthetics and garnished mesmerising stagecraft. However, when discussing this list of artists, one name invariably gets overlooked: Screamin’ Jay Hawkins.

The mind behind the spooky 1956 hit, ‘I Put a Spell on You’, Hawkins was famous for his booming operatic style of vocals and his raucous, theatrical performances that set a precedent for all performers worth their salt moving forward. The performer is so revered that many subsequent heroes such as Arthur Brown, Glenn Danzig, The Cramps and The Rolling Stones have cited him as an influence, alongside the usual suspects Alice Cooper, Rob Zombie and Marilyn Manson. 

Although he released many other incredible cuts, such as ‘Constipation Blues’ and ‘Frenzy’, Hawkins had such an impact on culture with ‘I Put a Spell on You’, that it has spawned many celebrated covers from a range of artists, including Creedence Clearwater Revival and Annie Lennox that has meant it is still ubiquitous some 66 years later. To many, the ultimate use of the song came in 1993’s Hocus Pocus, but in reality, there are a few that rival it.

As with anyone who has a great hand in influencing the trajectory of popular culture, Hawkins was a true enigma, and right from the outset, his life was extraordinary. At only 18 months old, he was given up for adoption and raised by Blackfoot Indians, a largely unheard prospect for an African-American child in the early 1930s.

However, arguably the most symbolic example of his unique early life was shared during a 1993 interview when Hawkins recalled a childhood incident with his music tutor. Living up to the fear that his name would elicit in conservative listeners after the ominous ‘I Put a Spell on You’ was released, he shocked us all when he claimed that he once threatened his unsuspecting teacher.

According to Hawkins, he told the tutor: “… to leave before I make your life miserable […] because with the type of music I want to play. The things I want to do with music and don’t want to do it the old conventional way that everybody knows. I want to come up with my own ideas. I’ve got all the information that I need to get from you to do what I want, now if you stick around, I’m going to make your life miserable.”

The thought of this Damien Thorn-like musical prodigy being both acutely aware of his musical skill and the game-changing style he was to establish at such a young age is remarkable. We can only imagine what the music tutor was thinking at such a proposition. Following this, per Hawkins’ accounts, his life continued in such a way that the next chapter was so unbelievable that it reads like a segment from Tim Burton’s Big Fish.

It is said that amid the Second World War in 1942, aged just 13, he joined the US Army after forging a birth certificate and went on to serve in an active combat role, with his older colleagues and seniors ignoring the fact that he was, well, still a child. During this time, it is also claimed that he cut his teeth as an entertainer, keeping the troops happy with shows.

Then in 1944, he joined the Air Force, and was honourably discharged in 1952, but not before he had moonlighted as a boxer in the Army Circuit, becoming the middleweight champion of Alaska.

Around the time he was leaving the Air Force, Hawkins started performing vocals and keyboards for Philadelphia guitar hero, Tiny Grimes, and it was here that he earned the experience of going solo. Before too long, he released his first solo single, ‘Why Did You Waste My Time’, with the help of Grimes’ band, which was well recieved. Everyone who witnessed him perform was blown away by his style, and in 1956 , Okeh Records signed him to their roster. 

Things moved quickly, and later that year, ‘I Put a Spell on You’ was released, which almost immediately etched Hawkins’ name into the history books. Although he had already started to cultivate his onstage persona by using a wardrobe that featured leopard skins, red leather, and an assortment of hats, it wasn’t until after the hit was released that his position as the forefather of all things shock rock really came together.

The famous radio DJ Alan Freed offered Hawkins $300 to emerge from a coffin onstage, knowing it would delight the horror-loving audiences. Hawkins initially rejected Freed’s proposal, though, telling him: “No black dude gets in a coffin alive – they don’t expect to get out!” 

Hawkins eventually concluded that this was too good of an offer to turn down, as was the support of Freed, so he went back on his position and agreed. His performances then started with the coffin gimmick, and his persona became even more eye-catching, with gold leopard skin costumes and voodoo stage props utilised, including a certain skull on a stick called Henry, heightening the notoriety of himself and the single.

Despite the incredible success that Hawkins had achieved off the back of his affected live shows, he hated that this trashy element was what people primarily knew him for and felt that it exploited him and distracted people from his actual talents as a musician.

Later, in 1973, he criticised the ‘Screamin” epithet that Okeh had bestowed upon him, defiantly saying: “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t be Screamin’ Jay Hawkins…James Brown did an awful lot of screamin’, but never got called Screamin’ James Brown…Why can’t people take me as a regular singer without making a bogeyman out of me?”

Hawkins continued to tour in the 1960s and 1970s and maintained his popularity, although it did start to wain by the end of the ’70s. Thankfully though, due to the quality of his efforts in his heyday, it was his most prominent fans who would help him to have a resurgence, with him opening up for The Rolling Stones at Madison Square Garden in 1980 and then starring in a celebrated supporting role in Jim Jarmusch’s 1989 title Mystery Train, with both keeping his flame alive.

Although he often gets forgotten, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins did a lot for popular culture, and his tale needs to be told, as lives such as his are now relics of the past, from a time when anything seemed possible.

ADD AS A PREFERRED SOURCE ON GOOGLE