The Voodoo Organist

Close your eyes and it's still good

I put a spell on you: The Voodoo Organist works his
magic.
I put a spell on you: The Voodoo Organist works his magic.

The one-man-band scenario always carries a greater potential for silliness than your average act. Scott Wexton, a.k.a. the Voodoo Organist, is no stranger to kitsch himself, what with glow-skull stage props, excursions on the theremin (the geekiest instrument ever devised), and songs about being dipped in battery acid by the Prince of Darkness. But like all great self-contained solo acts, this L.A.-based purveyor of anti-gospel blues has carved out an elegant space within the confines of his niche. It's the nexus of Tom Waits and the actual Southern Baptist frenzy Waits has often tried to evoke. Significantly, the Voodoo Organist is a true musician, no mere comedian, who's been caressing the keys since age 10, and knows how to open up those gland-tickling tones that you've only ever heard from an organ if you're lucky. For an evening of thick red-wine atmosphere and soulful fun, you can't do better.

 
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