I Put a Spell On You: The Bizarre Life of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins

By Steve Bergsman

Feral House

Separating fact from fiction in telling the Screamin’ Jay Hawkins story is a laborious task. Prone to exaggeration and outright falsehoods, the often charming and funny, if also unpredictably violent and untrustworthy, Hawkins was hardly a reliable narrator of his own career and existence. A better choice for the job is veteran journalist and author Steve Bergsman.

Dogged in his pursuit of the truth – or something close to it – in his meticulously researched and well-crafted biography I Put a Spell On You: The Bizarre Life of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, Bergsman sketches a complicated portrait of the shock-rock trailblazer and that raw R&B voodoo of his that scared the wits out of white America. While acknowledging his status as one of the great characters and electrifying showmen in rock ‘n’ roll history, Bergsman pays as much attention to Hawkins’ unrepentant womanizing, his cruelty and thoughtless abandonment of his children as he does to tracing the fascinating origins of his best-known song, “I Put a Spell On You,” and how a coffin became part of the act.

Hawkins made enemies as easily as he made friends, as Bergsman’s tome demonstrates time and time again. Scary incidents of Hawkins pulling guns on people are recounted in detail. His manufactured and confused military and boxing exploits are often shown to be outright lies, as are tall tales of his upbringing and beating up all of The Drifters one time. In a rare moment of self-awareness, Hawkins is even quoted as saying, “I wish I could be who I was before I was me,” a good indication that he knew the larger-than-life persona he created was an artificial construct. Bergsman makes allowances for Hawkins’ hazy memory and propensity for epic storytelling, before sorting through dirty laundry piles of half-truths and embellishment to verify accounts and bust myths wide open. Bergsman’s prowess as an investigator is on full display here.

Eschewing a linear timeline, Bergsman’s book is a riveting, brutally honest and entertaining read that doesn’t just blow holes into every little thing Hawkins ever said. Looking at the bigger picture, it’s a study of the African-American experience and the early whirlwind days of rock ‘n’ roll, with Alan Freed’s patronage given its proper due and the antagonistic Hawkins serving as a lightning rod for controversy. The provocative mumbles and gurgles heard in “I Put a Spell On You” were labeled by some as “cannibalistic” and smacked of sexual deviancy, while a bullheaded Hawkins later rebuffed advice from the NAACP and Sammy Davis Jr. to discontinue the African tribal costumes and black stereotypes that were part and parcel of what they considered an offensive stage show. Bergsman handles all of that sensitive material without fear, treading lightly but never pulling any punches. And yet there’s plenty in the book about Hawkins’ underappreciated artistry, from his tender, soulful ballads to wild-eyed rock ‘n’ roll riots, as well the supernatural aftermath of his death – not to mention his problems with money, his interest in opera and a last trip to Greece as part of a failed documentary.

As Bergsman exerts great effort in capturing the essence of the man and his character, respected journalist, writer and musician Eugene Robinson provides more insight into Hawkins’ musical impact and examines his place in black culture. It’s hard to imagine ever getting a more well-rounded look at such a confounding personality.

—Peter Lindblad