Ignored Obscured Restored
“Witchi Tai To” is one of those strange and beautiful songs that feels both timeless and slightly out of place — like it wandered into the pop landscape from another dimension. MOJO magazine recently described it as Jim Pepper’s “peyote chant,” a fitting shorthand for its hypnotic blend of jazz, Native American tradition, and sheer groove.
Pepper, a gifted jazz saxophonist of Kaw and Creek heritage, first recorded the song with his group Everything Is Everything in 1969. Two years later, he released what most consider the definitive version on his Pepper’s Pow Wow album.
That session was no small affair — Pepper was joined by jazz fusion royalty Larry Coryell on guitar and Billy Cobham on drums, lending the track a subtle electricity beneath its serene surface.
On paper, “Witchi Tai To” shouldn’t work as a popular tune. Its central hook is a Native American chant, repeated in a meditative cycle, with the verses offering only the gentlest variations. And yet, it has lived a rich second life in the hands of others, covered by acts as far-flung as Harpers Bizarre, the Paul Winter Consort, the Bonzo Dog Band, and even the Supremes!
My personal favorite, though, is Brewer & Shipley’s take from their album Weeds (1969).
Although Weed’s liner notes don’t provide credits by song, the session musicians who may have played on this track include Mike Bloomfield (guitar), John Kahn (bass), Richard Greene (fiddle), and Mark Naftalin and Nicky Hopkins (pianos).
They slyly weave in the rhythm of Lou Reed’s “Sweet Jane,” giving the track a rock pulse without breaking its trance-like spell. It’s a small shift, but it strips away some of the “world music” museum-glass feel and makes it breathe in the language of FM rock radio circa 1970.
Interestingly, while Pepper was a jazz artist, his own version doesn’t lean too heavily into jazz harmony or improvisation. Oregon’s rendition, however, taps more deeply into that side of the composition — stretching the melody, exploring space, and drawing out the modal undercurrents.
Fast forward to the present day, and “Witchi Tai To” pops up again, this time in the indie rock world. Pavement recently recorded a version for the 2024 documentary Pavements, which charts the career of Stephen Malkmus and his merry band of slanted-and-enchanted misfits.
The survival of “Witchi Tai To” over more than half a century says something about its quiet power. It’s not a song you expect to stick in the collective memory — there’s no verse-chorus hook, no big crescendo — but it does! It hums along in the background of pop history, waiting for each new generation to stumble upon it, fall under its spell, and pass it along again.
Enjoy… until next week.