Brian Jones Presents: The Pipes of Pan at Jajouka
written by Shaun Lee
Friday, July 3rd marks the anniversary of the passing of founding Rolling Stone guitarist Brian Jones. While much has been written about the mysterious circumsances surrounding his “death by misadventure,” there is a less known antecedent surrounding a tremendously fascinating album that Jones had a hand in producing and presenting to the West: Brian Jones Presents: The Pipes of Pan at Jajouka.
Almost exactly one year prior to his death by drowning, Jones was was doing the oh-so-typical hippy trip to the fabled East, in this case, hoary old Morocco and its environs, where he wound up brushing elbows with legendary counter-culture painter Brion Gysin. It was Gysin who would introduce the Rolling Stone to the music of Bou Jeloud, the half man/half goat deity who rumour had it had descended from a cave near Jajouka to bestow the gift of music to the villagers. Gysin had discovered the pipers of the small villiage of Jajouka in 1951, and had engaged them as the house band at his cafe, The 1001 Nights. Jones, a multi instrumentalist had been searching for new sounds to further augment his band; in Jajouka he felt that he had found the elusive sound he had come for.
The villagers of Jajouka were equally entranced by this blonde haired hippy rock star from the illustrious West. In due time a feast was prepared. Jones was more than chagrined to discover that the main course for the dinner was the sole blonde goat of the herd, a shaggy haired animal that bore a more-than-passing resemblance to the Stones founder himself! As the night wore on, Jones became increasingly paranoid (perhaps helped by gratuitous helpings of the local Kif) that the goat was him, and that the tribe was ritualistically consuming a symbolic mannekin (a scapegoat, if you will). In light of the somewhat sinister nature surrounding the ritual of Bou Jeloud its not entirely nuts of Jones to get spun into a heavy trip, especially considering that his own death was swiftly approaching
So, if you can, try to remember that every year you live, the day of your eventual death passes innocuously, unmarked save perhaps by strange circumstantial foreshadowing, as was the case with Jones. It’s a worthwhile reflection while listening to the strange, cacaphonous rituals recorded by Jones during his stay in Morocco, an album that would set the stage for a growing interest in World Music, and an increasing global influence upon formalized Western Pop idioms. Check it out.
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written by Shaun Lee