Author: Jane Rose

Years ago, I was working in an art warehouse in Queens, one of those jobs where you do a lot of listening to music to pass the time. It was here that I was introduced to several bands that I still count among my favorites. One day, one of the guys I worked with brought in a real treat. The cover, in lurid reds and blacks, showed an intense-looking blonde spreading her arms over a blood-colored tablecloth adorned with skulls, candelabra, and an upside-down cross, flanked by two horn-throwing dudes who looked like they could be Hammer film extras. The band appeared to be called Coven… or Witchcraft Coven? And the sound… It was more so melodic rock tinged with psychedelic groove than particularly heavy. The singer had an impressive range and chanteuse’s appeal, along with the ability to shift into a rough wail or threatening whisper. But the overall feeling was steeped in a Summer of Love gone sour murk and was shot through, somehow, with a vein of real evil. What in all that is unholy was this? This, my friends, was Coven’s Witchcraft Destroys Minds & Reaps Souls, an album released 50 years ago this month, in June of 1969. That means that it predates Black Sabbath’s self-titled debut, an album that many metal and occult rock bands trace their roots to, by a year. And that woman on the cover was singer—Jinx Dawson, whose occult bonafides helped spawn an entire genre. Flash forward to a couple of years ago, when I was attending NecronomiCon in Providence, and a friend enthused “And Coven is going to be playing!” “Yeah,” I replied, “but not the Coven, obviously.” “No,” he rebuffed me, “the Coven.” I was floored. I hadn’t realized at that point that Coven had reemerged and were touring again. And here there were, as if arisen from the grave. Or perhaps more accurately, still here, like some necromancer who has never died. I’d like to assume that everyone, or at least everyone reading this, is familiar with this influential band and its pioneering singer. But despite some recent notice, Coven, to my mind, remains under-recognized. The band was formed in the Midwest in the late 1960s by Jinx, drummer Steve Ross, and bassist Oz Osbourne (not to be confused with a certain other of that name). They began playing shows heavy on evil theatrics, including altars, coffins, roadies hung on crosses, and, typically, a portion of a Black Mass performed on stage—credibly becoming the first band to do anything of the kind. The band eventually caught the interest of record producer Bill Traut, who saw opportunity in their blend of blasphemy and melody, and convinced Mercury Records to sign them. Coming in the middle of the peace-and-love Woodstock era, Coven’s emergence is remarkable, and probably seemed even more impressive (if that is the right word) to baffled hippie audiences. Even more striking is the fact that these black clad musical warlocks were led by a woman at a time where female rock singers were rare (the bias being toward female pop singers), and those flaunting such blatantly evil images were nonexistent. Another thing that sets Coven apart from some of the other occult-influenced bands that followed like hellhounds on their heels is that when it comes to their subject matter, Coven has always been sincere. Whereas others donned cloaks and pentagrams for show, Coven (or at least Jinx and the founding members) considered themselves to be legit practitioners of the dark arts. Jinx has made reference to a pair of great aunts who raised her in the ways of the Left Hand Path, and that it was this influence, combined with musical training and a penchant for the theatrical, that spawned Coven. Unfortunately, Coven’s demonic trajectory hit a stumbling block early on in the form of everyone’s favorite cult leader, Charlie Manson. In August 1969, about a month after the release of Witchcraft, the nation was shocked by the brutality of the Manson murders. Things of a cultish nature suddenly seemed a little less fun and exciting, and a bit more genuinely concerning. Making matters worse, a picture emerged of Manson holding a copy of Witchcraft outside of Tower Records in Los Angeles. A March 1970 article in Esquire titled “Evil Lurks in California” threw Coven under the proverbial bus by associating the band and its ilk with Manson and legions of drugged out, murderous youth. Coven had no relation to Manson and none of the members had ever met him. Nonetheless, Coven’s then label Mercury Records, feeling the pressure of public fears, yanked Witchcraft from the shelves. Coven took a pretty bad hit from this turn of events, and by the end of 1970 they had disbanded. Strangely, Jinx was recruited in 1971 to sing the title track to Billy Jack, an idealistic, utopian film that was about the opposite of the Coven ethos. The song, “One Tin Soldier,” became a Billboard hit, providing enough of a boost for Coven to reunite for a second and third albums Coven in 1972 and Blood on the Snow in 1974, but by 1977 Coven disbanded again, seemingly for good. In the interim, Jinx, settled in Los Angeles, sang backup for bands including the Beach Boys and Doobie Brothers. She appeared in a horror film or two and had stints in punk bands. She established a business crafting flamboyant outfits for performers including Cher. At some point, she returned home from LA to spend several years caring for her ailing father (that’s years people. Sort of stands in stark contrast to the interim activities of some early genre influencers I can think of). The band briefly reformed some time in the 2000s and released Metal Goth Queen, a compilation of unreleased material, in 2008. In 2013, Coven released Jinx, it’s first album of new material since 1974. And in 2017, to the delight of fans like me, they returned to the stage, and in July and August will be touring Europe. Jinx Dawson Diabolique had the opportunity to speak via email to Jinx, who reflects on Coven’s past, influence, and future: Diabolique: First, with this interview coming close to the 50th anniversary of Witchcraft’s release, it’s amazing to me to think about how you started this project and occult influenced rock when nobody was doing anything of the kind. I’ve read some interviews in which you talk about the atmosphere of the peace and love era being at odds with what you were doing. What was the audience reaction really like back then? Any memorable examples? Jinx: Confusion at first. Audiences were used to mellow hippie songs and drug psychedelia. We kept getting booked where there were large lighting crews that projected onto the stage throbbing liquid lights and films of girls in bonnets running through fields of flowers. It certainly did not fit songs like our ‘Pact with Lucifer’ or ‘Dignitaries of Hell’. I finally knew I would have to do something as most halls had light shows. At one theater show I asked the lighting man if he had anything darker like fire on film. He got excited and said in fact he did. He had fire. After the other bands played with paisley and flowers projected over their set, we stepped onstage, started playing ‘Wicked Woman’ and filmed fire appeared on the stage. The audience went wild. After that show, I knew I had to connect visuals with the songs and added the human crucifix, skulls and other Occult accoutrements. Times would be changing. Diabolique: When I read about the atmosphere surrounding your 1969 release, some articles say the “permissive” times led to Coven’s new popularity. Yet the label pulled Witchcraft right after the Manson murders, which seems like a fearful reaction. How would you describe the mood back then? Open or conservative? Do you think what audiences wanted differed from what the label thought? Do you think Sabbath had an easier time not being from America? Jinx: Very conservative. It was not only the Manson murders. The album was beginning to be banned and pulled from stores around the same time anyway. It was being sold under the counter in brown paper wrappers by only the brave store owners. There was a backlash by churches and other groups due to the musical content and the nudity inside the gatefold. Our sister label did look toward England for a band with males only, and willing to take on a similar situation. Diabolique: What has the reaction been since you started touring again? What has it been like taking Coven on the road again these past couple of years? Have there been any surprises? Jinx: The reactions from the crowds have been phenomenal. I expected most would not really be familiar with Coven after so many years and so many other bands taking up the same Occult banner. But at all the festivals we drew the biggest audiences and crowds in Brazil were even singing the lyrics with me. My dark heart was truly touched. Diabolique: Yes! When I saw you in Providence in 2017, there was this punk couple just going NUTS and singing all the lyrics (as was I). It was so great. Who do you consider your most devoted fans to be these days? Jinx: The 20 to 40 age group who like to research music history and occult in music. Most actually like the fact Coven has been hidden for so many years. They feel a personal connection through their discovery. The album was indeed meant to be a scholarly work. Diabolique: How did the concept of Coven come about? Jinx: I came from a Left Hand Path family who held secret ceremonies and a mansion household of Obeah maids and cooks who practiced Hoodoo. I learned from both paths and had been trained in opera and classical piano. When I became a teenager and wanted to have a rock band and rebel against that. Little did I know at the time that I was rebelling against the rebels. Magick was to remain a family secret and I wanted to reveal that most interesting secret that I had kept since a child. Diabolique: Were there any musical acts that influenced Coven’s early sound? Jinx: Not as far as the band was concerned, but the producer definitely tried to fit it into a mold of whatever other bands were doing...