Showcasing the Extremes of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins

Of all the fascinating things that can be said of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’ classic 1956 recording of “I Put a Spell on You,” the most remarkable may well be that the single was never a formal hit.

According to the liner notes in a Rhino Records retrospective on the late singer, the reason the single didn’t make either the pop or R&B; charts is that parents were so outraged by the “screams, grunts and groans” on the record that radio stations dropped it from their playlists, thus limiting its potential audience.

What parents didn’t know was that Hawkins was just warming up on the record.

His live act was the real shocker--a flamboyant affair that involved not only flashy costumes, but also such props as fireworks (pre-KISS, of course), snakes (pre-Alice Cooper) and all sorts of other gothic, monster-movie imagery (pre-”Spinal Tap”).

But all of this was overshadowed by his most inspired act of showmanship: coming on stage in a coffin.

“At the start of [Hawkins’] shows, pallbearers would solemnly carry Jay’s coffin onto the dark stage,” Tony Burke writes in the liner notes. “As the intro music swelled, a spotlight would settle on the coffin, and Jay would burst from the box with a demonic bellow. . . .”

Hawkins--who died Feb. 12 in France at age 70--joked over the years that he used to lose half the audience some nights with the coffin antics.

“They all rushed up the aisles screaming in terror,” he said in a 1983 radio interview. “So, in the end, I would give boys money to sit upstairs in the balcony and drop elastic bands on the ones who were running away, and whisper, ‘Worms, worms, worms.’ They used to get even more frightened.”

For someone whose first musical goal was opera, that’s quite a career reversal. The challenge, of course, was how to make records that would be as intriguing as the live show.

The Rhino package shows the extremes that Hawkins went to in trying to live up to that challenge. It contains a pair of what are surely among the most outrageous tracks ever recorded. Needless to say, radio wasn’t any more receptive to them than it was initially to “I Put a Spell on You.”

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*** 1/2 Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’ “The Best of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins/Voodoo Jive” (Rhino). Jalacy J. Hawkins, who was born in Cleveland, recorded for several labels in the early days of R&B; and rock without success. He even recorded an early version of “Spell” in 1955 for Grand Records, a small Philadelphia label.

Rather than the raucous version that would become his signature tune, the original version, which was never released, was a ballad--a tale of romantic retribution. Hawkins and the song later got to the attention of an executive at Columbia Records’ Okeh subsidiary, where someone got the idea of changing it from a ballad to a “weird” song.

According to Hawkins: “The assembled musicians told the [executive] that the best way to obtain that effect was to get everyone drunk and have a party, so [he] ordered cases of [wine] and boxes of chicken.

“We partied and we partied and somewhere along the line I blanked out.”

“Spell,” understandably, is the opening track on the album, and Hawkins’ bloodcurdling scream is still enough to convince a young listener that this man could “put a spell on you.”

Elsewhere on the album, Hawkins attempts some other hyperactive, party-minded novelties, including one song (“Alligator Wine”) written by the prized team of Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller.

Hawkins also recorded relatively straightforward versions of such standards as Cole Porter’s “I Love Paris” and a few tunes in the more disciplined, upbeat R&B; style of Big Joe Turner.

But the song that has to be heard to be believed is one he reportedly wrote during a hospital stay in 1969. It’s called “Constipation Blues,” and the “lyrics” consist chiefly of someone trying to approximate the feeling of being in physical pain because of the ailment.

About the only printable part is the spoken introduction: “Ladies and gentlemen, most people record songs about love, heartbreak, loneliness, being broke . . . nobody has actually recorded a song about real pain. . . .”

Given the radical edge of his records and persona, it was disarming to see this onetime “wild man” of rock honored by the Rhythm & Blues Foundation two years ago in New York City.

Hawkins was one of a dozen groups or individuals honored at a dinner attended by such contemporary pop giants as Stevie Wonder and the artist formerly known as Prince.

During a media reception before the dinner, Hawkins stood quietly in a corner, almost ignored in the rush of guests and stars. But he was thrilled just to be remembered.

“It’s like a blessing from heaven because I’ve never had an award . . . never even been nominated for my music,” he said softly. “I’m truly grateful that an organization would go back and grab old-timers like myself and give us some recognition so that the world will know about us and realize that we contributed something to the music that everyone enjoys today.”

Indeed, Hawkins’ “Spell” did go on to become a hit for other artists. Nina Simone reached No. 23 on the R&B; charts with it in 1965, while both Alan Price and Creedence Clearwater Revival had Top 100 pop hits with it in the ‘60s.

But Hawkins’ contribution went far beyond that single song. His imagination stretched the boundaries of rock ‘n’ roll, and this album--as unwieldy as it sometimes is--is just a piece of his legacy.

Albums are rated on a scale of one star (poor), two stars (fair), three stars (good) and four stars (excellent).

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Robert Hilburn, The Times’ pop music critic, can be reached by e-mail at robert.hilburn@latimes.com.