THE PROTO-ROCK HEROES PAGE
Introduction
For quite a long time now, I have been feeling
some kind of obscure remorse running through my veins, a remorse that was
growing and growing with every new review. Finally I realized what has
happened: it is now November 1999, I have reviewed more than seven hundred
records on this site (and I never thought I could do half that number!),
and I still don't have a page for the guys that actually started the whole
damn business. Not that Fifties' rockers and ole bluesmen were among my
favourites: to tell you the truth, I only pull out a Little Richard or
Chuck Berry record on specific occasions. Whatever you may say, Fifties'
music (if it's early rock'n'roll we're speaking off) hasn't gone down so
well in the annals of history. Sure, every quirky little dude knows Chuck
Berry was the father of rock'n'roll; but how many of these quirky little
dudes would prefer to go listen to Chuck Berry rather than, say, the Rolling
Stones, a band that based an entire two or three first years of their career
to doing nothing but ripping off poor Chuck? Elvis is rapidly losing his
God-like status. Buddy Holly is only remembered as the first cool rocker
who wore spectacles. Old bluesmen are popular among... well, among old
bluesmen. Is this the passing of an epoch?
Could be. This is, after all, perfectly understandable: Fifties' rock'n'roll
was just the beginning of better things to come. I know some people will
disagree, but, on the general level, the Rolling Stones still did Chuck
Berry better than Chuck; the Beatles did Carl Perkins better than Carl
Perkins; and if you're gonna say that Eddie Cochran's 'Summertime Blues'
is more interesting to listen to than the Who's cover version, well, I'll
just have to smack you. Fifties' rock'n'rollers didn't care much about
intricate, immaculate arrangements, building up the 'rock'n'roll drive'
to spectacular heights or fiddling around with the electric guitar until
it started resembling a vacuum cleaner or Mount Vesuvius. They just did
their stuff for lightweight entertainment; in those days, only a complete
jerk (although, in retrospect, a genius, of course) would consider rock'n'roll
a form of art. Songwriting in those days revolved around the basic blues
pattern, most of the songs being based on the same chords. Guitar players
were sometimes talentless, sometimes innovative, but whoever would want
to praise Chuck Berry or Cliff Gallup as 'best-of' guitarists after we
had had Hendrix? And, of course, the cliched character of most of the lyrics
of that time is renowned.
That said, there is one important thing to do when you start analyzing
such a peculiar epoch as the Fifties, not to mention earlier times. An
epoch must be judged according to its own values, not to the standards
of our times. Just as we have to put ourselves in the place of a primal
person in order to enjoy some of the brilliant chef-d'oeuvres of primal
art, we have to put ourselves in the place of a Fifties' teenager in order
to get the most of Fifties' music. This is not as hard a task as it might
seem - after all, the Fifties passed us by not so long ago. And some of
that music still stands the test of time. All of these Chuck Berry and
Little Richard and Bill Haley tunes - yup, one might not enjoy them as
much as what came later, but that doesn't mean they aren't in a class of
their own. For their time, this was as far out as music could ever get.
For our time, it has more 'historic' value than anything else; music that
was not conceived as art but has turned into art after several generations,
just like habitual frescoes on the walls of Roman ruins, the ones that
were just an equivalent to our standard wallpaper, have turned into art
after several centuries. On the other hand, the comparison is not quite
right: in the Fifties, Bill Haley and company were not just 'wallpaper'.
They were energy, they were fun, they were protest and they had balls a-plenty.
They were revolutionaries. And I'm really proud to incorporate those guys'
material into my site, in any case.
Now the main rub here lies in that in the Fifties' LPs as a standard 'unit
of measure' for music were virtually unknown. Hitmakers placed everything
into singles, and only released LPs when they were big enough, often padding
them with total crap (a practice that was later transmitted to some of
the originally less skilled groups of the early Sixties, like the Kinks
or the Hollies). Therefore, it's more or less impossible to assemble a
concise and economic 'discography' of any of these artists. Not to mention
that I'm really not interested in assembling a thorough collection of such
records: only a madman would hunt for the entire Elvis discography, ninety
percent of which is atrocious crap, and I bet you anything that there's
plenty of stuff from other artists yet unreleased on CD.
So this is what I'm going to do. I'll review these Heroes as 'personalities'
- let's say, based around a single record, the most representative in my
collection. Since these records are always compilations, I won't give them
any ratings at all (decide for yourself); I'm just going to jab a little
about the actual songs and the actual guy in person. Some of these records
are in print and easily available; others may be deleted; others may simply
be unofficial bootlegs which you won't find anywhere. To avoid any misunderstandings,
I'm going to give out the complete track listing in each case; this will
help you get oriented and understand what kind of record it is, especially
if you're already familiar with the artist.
As for the 'Heroes' themselves, my main emphasis will be on Fifties' rockabilly
pioneers; I'm still missing such key figures as the Everley Brothers, Gene
Vincent and Eddie Cochran, but I sincerely hope that time will help me
correct this little gap. However, rock music wasn't entirely based on rockabilly,
and so, I'll probably end up reviewing selected blues, maybe even jazz
artists here - the ones that actually made it to the Rock'n'Roll Hall of
Fame, and maybe others, too.
Your worthy comments:
Duane Zarakov <jpcs@xtra.co.nz> (07.06.2000)
...whoa damn,you think "the Rolling Stones still did Chuck Berry
better than Chuck"?
two little words - "Come On" !
...yeah well maybe that ain't strictly a fair suck o' the sausage
- the Stones themselves'd surely be first to admit their version of "Come
On" was the feeblest track they cut until,uh,a bit later on,&
yeah Chuck B's own rendition is I suppose hardly 1 of his hottest tickets
(still tho',a fuckin revelation to me when I finally got to hear it after
years of familiarity with only the Stoners' weedy travesty);my case in
general,tho',is that your "Classic Rock" orthodoxy treats '50s
Rock pretty rank. Consider this - analogous to how you snub most '70s/'80s/'90s/21st-century
rock as mere retreading of the halcyon age of Jethro Tool & Genesis
& such yummies,well how 'bout how a circa-1963 smartguy coulda
made a solid case for the Beatles being nothing that Chuck B. & Buddy
H. & Carl P. hadn't already done with piles mo' snazz? or, how 'bout
how in 1969 you coulda perhaps illustrated that to any audience not addled
on pot, Cream & Zep & Jeff Beck weren't adding much but flatus
& diarrhoea to the inventions of Howlin' Wolf,Elmore James,B.B/Albert/Freddie
King...? yeah & on the point,holy shit,The Who's "Summertime Blues",
"more interesting" than the orig.? GET OFF & MILK IT,MAC!
Yo,The Who's version of that song is less "interesting" than
T.Rex's.(Actually I dig The Who the most,but that song's no career pinnacle...&
man if you wanna heavy-rock version o' that tune,well you know BLUE CHEER's
sinks Mr Townshend's boat definitively).
Ho hum.Having blurted forth all the above ,whew, gotta say as a newcomer
to yr site i find it entertaining & thoughtprovoking (don't have to
agree w/ much (or ANY) of yr opinions to find it so...of course I do tho'
(agree w/ various of yr opinions that is)...main big deal to me as I get
into sites like yours and Prindle's (yay!P-R-I-N-D-L-E,appreciate,who do
we!) is I just think it's great how the I-net is taking Rock Crit ouuta
the stranglehold of the Professionals and delivering it back to the people
- that's great.(& for that I reward you with all this blathering &
rudeness)
But yeah back to the part i hope you will actually print (uh,pertinent
comment about music) - I reckon if you get more into '50s rock you'll come
to regard it as more than mere prologomena to the real stuff and hear it
outside the context of Ancient Grease, as REAL ROCK'N'ROLL that actually
ROCKS - that's why it's called that,'cuz that's what the fuck it DOES.
(Check out Nick Tosches' "Unsung Heroes of Rock'n'Roll", one
of the 2 or 3 greatest books ever writ about rock'n'roll,also that FUCKIN'
ACE box-set comp. on Rhino Records that I forget the name of.Yeah and Link
Wray,you should definitely listen to Link Wray.)(yeah & the best Chuck
Berry collections NO FUCKING DOUBT are still the 3 vol's of "Golden
Decade" double LPs - all ass-kickers,no fucken "Ding-a-Ling",lotsa
great obscure trax so's you can dig Chuck other than thru the stupefying
filter of over-familiarity).
[Special author note: actually
Duane Zarakov IS quite right, if you just change the syntax a little! The
Beatles around 1963 (but only around 1963, mind you) WERE nothing that
Chuck B and Buddy H hadn't already done... with piles mo' snazz. That is,
the Beatles had piles mo' snazz, not Chuck B or Buddy H.]
Much too often mistaken for a rock'n'roll performer.
Album: Rock Around The Clock (TKO Records, 1992)
Track listing:
1) (We're Gonna) Rock Around The Clock; 2) Shake Rattle And Roll; 3) Razzle-Dazzle;
4) The Saints Rock'n'Roll; 5) Skinny Minnie; 6) Blue Comet Blues; 7) ABC
Boogie; 8) Caravan; 9) How Many; 10) Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On; 11)
Land Of A Thousand Dances; 12) Harlem Nocturne; 13) Justine; 14) The Seventh
Son; 15) Mohair Sam; 16) New Orleans; 17) Hi-Heel Sneakers; 18) Skokiaan;
19) Rip It Up; 20) See You Later Alligator
What? Who? 'Rock Around The Clock'? 'See You Later
Alligator'? After a while, crocodile!
Well, no. Actually, here and now. First of all, there's totally nothing
wrong with 'Rock Around The Clock'. It may not be the first rock song ever
written, and it certainly is not the best rock song ever written, and,
finally, it wasn't even written by Bill Haley, but, first, it is
a landmark in popular history, and, second, it's just a great, entertaining
piece of boogie. As for Bill Haley himself, this particular collection
that I have doesn't actually showcase Bill as a rock'n'roll performer.
If it's guitar-based, rip-roarin' boogie-woogie you're looking for, please
visit Chuck Berry. No, Bill Haley And The Comets played a rather weird
mix of styles, with jazz, country-western, blues and rockabilly elements
all thrown together in a weird and - dare I say it? - extremely diverse
melting pot. This here album doesn't boast a good sound quality (most of
the recordings are live, anyway), but I don't care as long as I never get
tired of it.
True, Haley was a somewhat 'manufactured' performer. I mean, he wasn't
originally manufactured at all, but his 'rock' breakthrough was more or
less incidental, and this often leads to tragic misunderstandings. People
tend to dismiss the man as something like an 'unsuccessful hipster', a
representative of the older generation (he was around 30 when he got that
breakthrough) who wanted to be cool among the youngsters, but was too conservative
to get rid of the necktie. This results from their taking 'Rock Around
The Clock' as the norm for Haley, when in reality it wasn't. What was?
Well, like I said, Haley and his men played anything. Here, for instance,
you'll find them doing a brisk take on some jazz-pop numbers ('Land Of
A Thousand Dances' which everybody probably knows as 'na nananana'; Duke
Ellington's 'Caravan'; 'Harlem Nocturne'); tearing their way through some
ragged blues covers ('Mohair Sam'; 'Seventh Son'); and, of course, all
the hits that immortalized Haley's name forever, starting from the title
track and ending with 'Razzle Dazzle' and 'Shake Rattle & Roll' (the
latter, of course, comes with 'censored' lyrics, later reprised in the
Presley version). At some points you'll really be flabbergasted - Haley's
backing band are anything but shy, and there are times when they start
to remind me of the Mothers of Invention; unfortunately, you won't find
this bizarre atmosphere on any of Haley's regular studio releases.
Plus, the Comets were amazingly professional. Just listen to that guitar!
A magnificent, energizing sound, and it's all over the album. The brass
also sounds great, and the rhythm section is as perfect as you would expect
to meet in a professional jazz combo. Believe it or not, Haley's concerts
in the middle to late Fifties really caused the same teenage uproar as
the shows of Presley or Jerry Lee Lewis: he wasn't exactly the wild man
of rock, but he did manage to make everything rock - as in, R-O-C-K.
Not only that, Haley was a skilful and tasteful entertainer: most of these
numbers are instantly memorable, and the record works on each and every
level of perception, whether you want to just find your personal delight
in any of the instruments or just want to shake your hips.
Out of the songs, I particularly enjoy 'ABC Boogie', Haley's joyful and
playful equivalent to Chuck Berry's grim 'Schoolday'; the lyrics may be
more 'correct', but the song is not any less of a classic. Man, these whistles
are cool... corny, but cool. But what's that I say, out of the twenty numbers,
there's not a single bad song. A couple don't go too far beyond acceptable
(and the live rendition of 'Justine', with some horrendous vocalizing,
may take some getting used to), but I don't skip them anyway. Remember,
it's the Fifties, and songs used to be short in the Fifties...
I don't think you'll be able to really get your hands on this record (it's
a strictly European release anyway), but remember, when you finally realize
your collection is incomplete without a Bill Haley record, try to find
something that doesn't overabuse Bill's 'mad rocking' image. Hits like
'Rock Around The Clock' and 'Crazy Man Crazy' are good, sure enough, but
it's one and only one facet of this truly amazing personality. You might
try looking up some stuff from his pre-1955 hillbilly days when nobody
thought much of marketing him, or, even better, look for a good live recording:
the Comets are well worth hearing live.
What do you think of Bill Haley? Mail your ideas!
The Creative Man of Fifties' Rock'n'Roll.
Album: 30 All Time Greatest Hits
Track listing:
1) That'll Be The Day; 2) Maybe Baby; 3) Peggy Sue; 4) Words Of Love; 5)
Rave On; 6) I'm Looking For Someone To Love; 7) Oh Boy; 8) Think It Over;
9) Early In The Morning; 10) It Doesn't Matter Anymore; 11) Heartbeat;
12) You've Got Love; 13) Every Day; 14) Rock Me My Baby; 15) Love Me; 16)
Well All Right; 17) It's So Easy; 18) I'm Changing All Those Changes; 19)
Baby I Don't Care; 20) Ready Teddy; 21) I'm Gonna Love You Too; 22) Tell
Me How; 23) Listen To Me; 24) Send Me Some Lovin'; 25) I Guess I Was Just
A Fool; 26) It's Too Late; 27) Don't Come Back Knockin'; 28) Raining In
My Heart; 29) Peggy Sue Got Married; 30) Not Fade Away
Gee, this album is a bit too long even for my
tastes - maybe the more conventional and widely available 20 Golden
Greats is more acceptable for the casual listener. But anyway, whoever
forced me to sit through thirty songs in a row? The major throwback is
that they're all so short they keep flashing past my ears before I actually
had the time to really appreciate them. Therefore, I'm in no way ready
to review these numbers all in a row: I'd have to spend a couple years
of my life on that. Some of these songs don't need reviewing, anyway -
'Peggy Sue', 'That'll Be The Day' and 'Not Fade Away' are all-time classics
which you're bound to know even if you don't know they were originally
written by Buddy.
I think that Buddy tends to be a controversial figure - permanently overrated
by the 'know-alls' and permanently underrated by the 'know-nothings'. Simplistic
music lovers never associate Fifties' rock with Buddy: there are much more
idolized figures lying around like Elvis or Chuck Berry. On the other hand,
those who tend to dig deeper are bound to overrate him. There is one significant
element about Buddy which no one can deny: he was primarily a songwriter,
not a performer. That is, he was a performer, in that he actually
performed the songs he sang without having to play the part of some anonymous
Leiber-Stoller gang. But he never developed a terrific stage image (like
Elvis or Jerry Lee), and, while his guitar playing technique was fairly
impressive from a deeper point of view, he didn't revolutionize the instrument
as it was done by Chuck Berry. No, Buddy Holly's main talent was in writing
songs - and when I say 'writing songs', I don't mean just pumping out endless
tired clones of the 'primal' R'n'B and pop standards. One could argue that
Buddy was rock's first accomplished songwriter: he actually knew the importance
of an original, innovative melody, and did everything he could to push
music forward by trying to find new and new ways of creating them. From
the straightforward R'n'B of 'That'll Be The Day' to the Bo Diddley-ish
beat of 'Not Fade Away' to the uncompromised rockin' of 'Rave On' to the
complicated guitar patterns of 'Words Of Love', Holly was the greatest
experimentator among the pioneers of rock'n'roll. No wonder he wore spectacles.
That said, he did have his fair share of filler - about a good third of
the songs on my collection I could easily do without. Especially
strings-laiden pop garbage like 'It Doesn't Matter Anymore' or 'Raining
In My Heart', recorded towards the end of his tragically short career;
some people think he was moving into an even more experimental direction,
but I say he was most certainly sucked in by the mainstream; his untimely
death at least saved his reputation from being tarnished as were the reputations
of most of his musical contemporaries. Not all the rockers are that good,
either: for instance, his version of 'Ready Teddy' doesn't fit in with
the general atmosphere of the album one single bit. Buddy might have been
a rocker, but he never was an uncompromised rocker a la Little Richard,
and that's exactly what he is trying to pull off here. No, his rockers
were more subtle and moderate, concentrating on the chord changes rather
than the furious beat. And his vocals? Well, he had a cool vocal style:
not much of a singing talent, but at least he treated his voice as a musical
instrument. The 'hiccuping' intonations on 'That'll Be The Day' and 'Peggy
Sue' are legendary, aren't they? Oh well...
The most amazing thing, perhaps, and the main fact that proves Buddy's
genius as a songwriter, is that he's that rare performer whose songs don't
sound better even when covered by great bands or artists. Okay, the Stones
might have made a somewhat more definite version of 'Not Fade Away', but
that was only live, when they added the furious speed; their studio version
of the song mostly recreates the original. And don't even remind me the
horrible fate of 'Well All Right' as covered by Blind Faith on their eponymous
record (that's the worst song on there, actually). Even the Beatles couldn't
better the magnificent guitar playing on 'Words Of Love': it was so perfect
in the first place that all there was left to do was to improve the production
values. Which means that the guitar is brought upfront and loud in the
mix, while here, on the original recording, it's mixed rather low and at
times you can hardly hear it. The problem is, George Harrison is just repeating
Buddy - note by note, note by note...
What you really need is a concise, carefully thought out compilation that
will forever edge out the notion of Buddy Holly and the Crickets as a marginal
event in rock history. This one is not perfect - like I said, there are
so many songs that you simply get lost in the forest after a while, plus,
the best stuff is all grouped near the beginning, and the dreck is all
in the middle or near the end, so it rarely gets better. In any case, it's
not available in the US: but please do me a favour and buy 20 Golden
Greats or From The Original Masters or something like that and
let this be your personal tribute to the greatest songwriter of the Fifties.
What do you think of Buddy Holly? Mail your ideas!
Your worthy comments:
Inge Iden <iden@c2i.net> (21.11.99)
Buddy Holly is one of my absolute favourite artists from the fifties,
along with Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis.
His singing style, and simple song-stucture brings a lot of life to his
songs, and his albi\ums are great to listen to even after all these years.
Rose Mary <raponte@prtc.net> (27.02.2000)
"Raining in my heart" is such a tasteless sirupy ballad, that makes me wonder who in hell considers Holly a rocker.. It is clear that at the end Holly was following the path of destruction and the boring ways of popdom....
mjcarney <mjcarney@netzero.net> (20.08.2000)
Well, I have the 20 Golden Greats album, and all I can say is that it is terrific. Buddy Holly is by far and wide my favorite 50's performer. Why? Well, I am sure that the Beatles had something to do with it--at least at first--but really it is because his songs are so great! Some are dated yes, and some are horrible-the "Raining In My Heart" etc. final songs. Overall though, Buddy Holly was a genius, and I believe he was only 22-23 years old when he died! What a tragedy in rock and roll, imagine if he started to progress into different areas--like most 60's acts--what he would have accomplished, it would likely have changed the history of rock and roll--I mean the Beatles started out as "pops little angels" and look what they did, Buddy Holly was only 2-3 years older than them, so you can't quite write him off, which amongst other things is why his early death was such a shame for rock music. Still though, he has a tremendous amount of classics and few of them have been better performed. The Stones's "Not Fade Away" is perhaps the best Buddy Holly cover, but the Beatles' "Words of Love" is also amazing, both are two songs that I feel surpass the originals. THe Stones for the power added to the song, and the Beatles for Lennon's intricate singing (it can't be beat!). Anyway though, Holly's classics of the classics are "Peggy Sue" (possibly the first "surf song" in my book all the other surf songs copied this master at least for their sound), "Oh Boy", "Maybe Baby", "Everyday"--sappy but gorgeous, "Rave On"--one of rockabilly's finest!, "Heartbeat", and of course "That'll be the Day". Holly's music continues to shine today, and it is a perfect time piece. Why is he my favorite 50's songwriter, why its because he perfectly mastered the art of writing poppy/catchy songs at such an early time. He is often overshadowed by Elvis, Berry, Richard, etc., but believe me Buddy's music could have definately stood up to all of them. Even if his final tapes were poor there were only a couple songs (Maybe they wouldn't have been released or maybe he was just having writer's block, we'll never know). The thing is with his early death, Rock and Roll lost one of its greatest geniuses.
Missed a chance to be Elvis - for better or for worse?
Album: Boppin' Blue Suede Shoes (Sun Records, 19??)
Track listing:
1) Movie Magg; 2) Let The Jukebox Keep On Playing; 3) Sure To Fall; 4)
Honey Don't; 5) Blue Suede Shoes; 6) Boppin' The Blues; 7) Dixie Fried;
8) Put Your Cat Clothes On; 9) Right String Wrong Yo-Yo; 10) Everybody's
Trying To Be My Baby; 11) That Don't Move Me; 12) Caldonia; 13) Sweethearts
Or Strangers; 14) I'm Sorry I'm Not Sorry; 15) Matchbox; 16) Roll Over
Beethoven; 17) That's Right; 18) Forever Yours; 19) Your True Love; 20)
Y.O.U.; 21) Pink Pedal Pushers; 22) I Care; 23) Lend Me Your Comb; 24)
Look At That Moon; 25) Glad All Over
The story of how Carl Perkins wrote up 'Blue Suede
Shoes', became candidate #1 for that Great White Rock'n'Roller, got caught
in a car crash and lost the honour to Elvis Presley is almost legendary.
If you ask me, though, Perkins didn't have a chance either way: he was
far too unnoticeable imagewise to match the immaculate spectacle of Elvis,
and you know how it goes - people always tend to fall for the image rather
than the music. Not to mention, of course, that his bleeting voice can't
hope to beat Elvis' mighty roar, and his backing band was always rudimentary,
the only remarkable thing about it being Carl's funny and entertaining
guitar playing itself. Elvis' arrangements were far more inventive and
attracting (although it's obvious Elvis himself had little to do with them).
Nevertheless, Carl had one thing Elvis didn't have: he wrote his own songs,
and in that respect he's probably the real and true pioneer among white
performers - the first serious singer-songwriter in the rockabilly genre.
I wouldn't call him a terrific songwriter, though: compared to Buddy Holly,
he was just a second-rate Chuck Berry imitator, and his songs rarely ventured
behind the standard R'n'B pattern. Even so, just take a look at the track
listing for this here compilation - ain't it great? The Beatles made him
popular, with their versions of 'Honey Don't', 'Matchbox', and 'Everybody's
Trying To Be My Baby', all far superior to the original recordings, again,
mostly due to much more creative and inventive arrangements and, of course,
improved production values; I don't really know if he'd still be remembered
these days without the Fab Four's help, though, as he certainly holds number
one among the 'most underrated major Fifties' stars'.
This collection, I suppose, is quite all right, showcasing his early successes
along with later, more moderate hits such as 'Put Your Cat Clothes On',
although, as almost every rock'n'roll collection with more than fifteen
songs to it, it does have its share of filler, with doo-wop stinkers like
'Y.O.U.' and 'I Care' residing next to perfect boogie numbers like 'Pink
Pedal Pushers' or 'Glad All Over'. The earliest tracks, funny enough, show
just how much Perkins sucked at the beginning of his career: 'Let The Jukebox
Keep On Playing' is atrocious, with ear-grating country violins that completely
spoil what could otherwise just passs by unnoticed as a mediocre country
tune. Not that I hate countryish fiddles, mind you, but these sound more
like forks scraping on a plate... yeck. Same goes for 'Sure To Fall', which
is in its essence a great pop tune, but is absolutely marred by the bleeting
vocals: Carl's deliveries aren't always the prettiest thing in the world,
I assure you, but on this number he seems to demonstrate all the worst
capabilities of his voice, and he succeeds admirably.
Of course, you can't go wrong with the classics, though: short, tight outbursts
of rockabilly energy, with immaculate guitar solos and, sometimes, quite
competent singing. Besides the obvious, there's also a couple of lost gems
here, like the hilarious, anthemic 'Boppin' The Blues' and the sly, enthralling
intonations on 'That's Right'. You just need to program this collection
according to your tastes; if you can't stand sappy doo-wop, there are quite
a few numbers you'll have to leave out. But, after all, the doo-wop curse
was firmly embedded upon all white performers in the business (just as
the generic 'soul' curse was firmly embedded upon all the black ones),
so I guess it ain't fair to blame poor Perkins for all the crap he's managed
to record in his life.
To conclude this review, I'll just re-state that it's perfectly understandable
why Perkins is so underrated these days. His historic importance as the
pioneer of white rock'n'roll is beyond any doubt, but the actual music
has perhaps dated more than that of most of his rockin' contemporaries.
He was talented, but not enough talented to understand the importance of
recording quality product with quality arrangement and qualified production
(actually, even his later output, which is represented here, sounds exactly
like it had been recorded twenty years ago). He must be given credit as
a significant songwriter, but as an inconsistent and not terribly entertaining
performer: of all the tunes included on this compilation which I heard
performed by other artists, not a single one is better than the cover versions.
(I mean, there probably have been worse covers by mediocre or bad
artists, but whenever a good artist took up a Perkins song, he made it
sound better than Carl. Come on now, you don't want to say that you'd rather
hear 'Blue Suede Shoes' done by Perkins than by Elvis? That would be pure
hypocrisy). Even so, this by no means does signify that this compilation
is unlistenable or anything. It's bound to give you enough pleasure if
you have an acquired taste for early rockabilly. Just skip the doo-wop
crap and you'll know what I mean.
What do you think of Carl Perkins? Mail your ideas!
Your worthy comments:
Fredrik Tydal <f_tydal@hotmail.com> (02.03.2000)
I've got a pretty good sixteen track compilation named (unexpectedly) Blue Suede Shoes. Being shorter than yours, it leaves out some of the doo-wop (unfortunately not "Let The Jukebox Keep On Playing" and "All Mama's Children", which wasn't on your compilation) and concentrates more on the faster numbers. I grabbed the CD at once since it was quite cheap and most importantly; "Everybody's Trying To Be My Baby", "Honey Don't" and "Matchbox" was all included. Turned out The Beatles did them a whole lot better, but it was nice to hear the originals anyway - if not for paying the respect to Carl.
Duane Zarakov <jpcs@xtra.co.nz> (07.06.2000)
...and while i'm flogging that '50s vs '60s horse,what's up with yr assertion that the Beatles do Carl Perkins tunes better'n ole Carl? Carl's twice the guitar player George Harrison was ever gonna be.
Where would electric guitar be today if it weren't for this little jailcat?
Album: The Best Of Chuck Berry (MCA, 1994)
Track listing:
1) No Particular Place To Go; 2) Schoolday (Ring Ring Goes The Bell); 3)
Sweet Little Sixteen; 4) Let It Rock; 5) Memphis Tennessee; 6) Nadine (Is
It You); 7) You Never Can Tell; 8) Promised Land; 9) Reelin' And Rockin';
10) My Ding-A-Ling; 11) Maybellene; 12) Roll Over Beethoven; 13) Johnny
B. Goode; 14) Carol; 15) Almost Grown; 16) Back In The USA; 17) Little
Queenie; 18) Brown Eyed Handsome Man; 19) Sweet Little Rock And Roller;
20) Rock'n'Roll Music
What do you usually do when someone gruesomely
overrates Elvis in your face? Why, throw on some Chuck Berry, of course!
Where Elvis stands as the definite symbol of rock'n'roll music for the
casual listener, us 'experts' know better, and we proudly shake the hand
of Chuck and bob our heads up and down to the frenzied beats of 'Roll Over
Beethoven' and 'Johnny B. Goode'. And there's a good reason for that: Chuck
Berry sure wasn't the first rock'n'roller on earth, but he was arguably
the most significant one for the younger generation - those cheeky white
guys that would go on to make 'Satisfaction' and 'Sunshine Of Your Love'
and 'Stairway To Heaven' and everything else. And why? Because Chuck, as
we know him, is the first rock'n'roller who truly realized the potentials
of that instrument we casually call 'electric guitar'. Not fully
realized - the world needed a Hendrix to do that, but it was him and nobody
else who stated that rock as a genre, if it were ever to carry on, should
be dominated by a plugged six-string. Where do you think the conception
of rock'n'roll as a guitar-based genre stems from? From the classic intros
to 'Johnny B. Goode' and 'Roll Over Beethoven' and the mad solo of 'Maybellene'.
Of course, Chuck was much more than just a pioneer of guitar techniques.
He was the greatest black rock'n'roll composer in existence, together with
Little Richard laying the foundations of the devil music. He was an impressive
performer onstage, if you come to remember the 'duckwalk'. He was one of
the best lyricists of his era: his songs were not just veiled odes to screwing
little girls, but incorporated elements of social protest (think 'Schoolday'),
and, of course, nobody could sing such inspired praises to rock'n'roll
as he did: 'Sweet Little Sixteen', 'Reelin' And Rockin' and, of course,
'Rock'n'Roll Music' still stand as the greatest genre anthems ever written.
He had a good voice, too - nowhere near as rip-roarin' and tearin' as Little
Richard's, but more laid back, sly and insinuating, and in that respect
he was sure far more dangerous than Little Richard ever was. No wonder
they jailed him in 1961: you could tame Elvis, but you sure as hell couldn't
just tame Chuck. In fact, I don't even know if Chuck ever sang ballads
or sappy stuff: this compilation, one of the most impressive in my collection,
doesn't give a hint at anything like Little Richard's 'By The Light Of
The Silvery Moon' or the worst excesses of white doo-wop.
Actually, there's just one misstep here: the album includes the infamous
'My Ding-A-Ling', a thoroughly generic and gross take on a nursery rhyme
with some of the most idiotic lyrics ever put to tape ('and those of you
who will not sing/must be playing with their own ding-a-ling'). Perversely,
this live version was the last and the biggest hit for Chuck, topping the
charts on both sides of the Atlantic in the early Seventies. People must
have been totally out of their minds; maybe some magnetic field was upset
or a comet was passing us by and influenced everybody's brains, otherwise
it's simply unexplainable. If I were in charge of the MCA, I would have
dropped it and put on a couple of classics that somehow evaded getting
on here - the great car anthem 'You Can't Catch Me', for instance, or the
amazing 'Too Much Monkey Business', often qualified as the first rap song
ever written (the second one was Dylan's 'Subterranean Homesick Blues',
and I could easily do without a third). Otherwise, though, I have simply
no complaints.
Mmm, perhaps a significant complaint would be that I don't really think
of Chuck as that great a composer. Okay, he did come up with half a dozen,
maybe a dozen, bona fide classics, most of them represented here: 'Roll
Over Beethoven', 'Carol', 'Maybellene' (the song that started guitar rock'n'roll),
'Rock And Roll Music', 'Sweet Little Sixteen', 'Little Queenie' and, of
course, 'Johnny B. Goode' (which is, of course, the greatest song ever
written), who can deny the greatness of these? Archetypal rock songs, no
doubt about that. The problem is, Chuck was repeating himself all the time:
his pot of creative ideas was exhausted rather quickly, and by the end
of the Fifties the standard process was to take an old hit and rewrite
it as a new one. That's why we got all those 'sequels' like 'Bye Bye Johnny',
and this record demonstrates these 'auto-rip-offs' amply: 'No Particular
Place To Go' is fun, but immediately after it's over you realise that it's
just a clone of 'Schoolday'. 'Let It Rock' is based on the same melody
as 'Johnny B. Goode'. 'Back In The U.S.A.' and 'Sweet Little Rock'n'Roller'
are basically the same song. Only 'You Never Can Tell' with its great ballroom
drive strikes me as something more or less original; otherwise, I'm really
starting to doubt Chuck's status as a 'phenomenal' songwriter. More like
a several-hits wonder, if you axe me: if he hasn't got enough diverse songs
to fill out a twenty-track greatest hits compilation, what of his less
'stellar' output? I prefer not even to think about that...
Nevertheless, even if his limitations are obvious, he more than makes up
for it with everything else: the vocals are funny, the lyrics are funnier,
and that guitar sound is classic, after all. Just think of 'No Particular
Place To Go' and 'Schoolday' as one five minute number instead of two two-and-a-half-minute
numbers, and everything will be tops. After all, such a classy song, man,
why not let it bug you for five minutes or so? You gotta dig that style!
What do you think of Chuck Berry? Mail your ideas!
Your worthy comments:
Joshua Fiero <jfiero1@lsu.edu> (10.01.2000)
A much better Berry compilation is The Great Twenty-Eight. It includes all the classic moments from the disc you reference, except, unfortunately, "You Never Can Tell", dumps the shit (including "My Ding-A-Ling," the most unlikely comeback song ever), and adds some other great tunes. Pick it up if you get a chance.
Fredrik Tydal <f_tydal@hotmail.com> (02.03.2000)
Yep, Chuck did a couple of sappy ballads too. But they didn't get on many compilations... I've got a great CD which chronologicly presents every song he released between May '55 and February '58 (there's supposed to be a second volume, but I haven't seen it). So, there's a fair share of ballads, though they're not all necessarily sappy. The ballads include "Wee Wee Hours" (the flip-side to "Maybellene), "Together (We'll Always Be)", "Drifting Heart" and "Havana Moon". As hard as it is to believe, Chuck can actually sing them; though I'll have to admit rock singing clearly was his forte. There's even a couple of instrumental tracks, which I doubt you ever get on any ordinary compiliation.
A clear case of image and substance being as far from each other as it can get.
Album: Elvis Gold - The Very Best Of The King (BMG, 1995)
Track listing:
Disc 1: 1) Heartbreak Hotel; 2) My Baby Left Me; 3) Tutti Frutti; 4) Hound
Dog; 5) Don't Be Cruel; 6) Love Me Tender; 7) All Shook Up; 8) (Let Me
Be Your) Teddy Bear; 9) One Night; 10) Jailhouse Rock; 11) Treat Me Nice;
12) Don't; 13) Hard Headed Woman; 14) Trouble; 15) King Creole; 16) A Big
Hunk O'Love; 17) Stuck On You; 18) Fever; 19) It's Now Or Never; 20) I
Gotta Know
Disc 2: 1) Are You Lonesome Tonight; 2) Wooden Heart; 3) Flaming Star;
4) Surrender; 5) Can't Help Falling In Love; 6) Kiss Me Quick; 7) His Latest
Flame; 8) Good Luck Charm; 9) Return To Sender; 10) (You're The) Devil
In Disguise; 11) Viva Las Vegas; 12) Love Letters; 13) Guitar Man; 14)
In The Ghetto; 15) Suspicious Minds; 16) Don't Cry Daddy; 17) The Wonder
Of You; 18) You Don't Have To Say You Love Me; 19) Burning Love; 20) My
Way
First, a warning: while this 2-CD compilation
is excellent as a more or less representative overview of the entire career
of Elvis (yes, it omits many highlights, but, after all, what could you
expect? The man's been in the business for twenty years, and he was even
more prolific than Frank Zappa), it is entirely Not Recommended to you
if you only care about those 'golden years' when Elvis really was King
- king of rock'n'roll. If that's what you're looking for, check out The
Sun Sessions or, in fact, any particular compilation that contains
only his Fifties' output (you can easily look this up in the All-Music
Guide). My personal favourite is a French double LP called something like
'Les 40 plus grands succes' which, for me, is as perfect an Elvis collection
as one could get: out of those fourty songs, I hate about one or two, dislike
about two or three more and go totally crazy over all the rest. Apparently,
the French have better taste for Elvis than the Americans, because this
here collection is, er, well, iffy at best. Representative, but iffy.
Anyway, what do I have to say about Elvis? (Hah hah hah, now here comes
the moment you've waited for all my life). Certainly, Elvis is overrated.
I wouldn't want to argue with that. Sure, he was a miserable songwriter
- he probably hasn't penned more than a couple songs in all his life. He
was a miserable player - contrary to rumours, he did play guitar
on stage, but he never went before simplistic strumming. His career crashed
after he got bogged down in sappy ballads, doo-wop and Sinatraesque sludge
in the early Sixties, and his well-publicized 1968 'comeback' was just
a carefully crafted, and, well, well-publicized stunt that impressed the
stupid fans and did not breathe new hope in the more experienced ones.
On the other hand, Elvis' being overrated is an entirely different matter
from, say, the overratedness of bands like Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin.
The latter are revered by their fans for presumably writing some of the
best music since the Chinese masters of old; Elvis is certainly not revered
for his music. Elvis is revered as a national hero, as a way of life, as
a cultural symbol, but certainly not as a musical genius. I had
a few friends who adored and deified Elvis; but it was obvious that they
did so because of his image. When hard pressed about his songwriting and
playing abilities, what did they have to answer? Nothing. In that respect,
this deification does not bother me as much as the heavy worship that is
gotten by Pink Floyd or, say, Queen in Russia. Let people deify Elvis.
There is absolutely no harm in that. As a symbol of America's and the world's
cultural liberation, he works quite fine. As a symbol of musical greatness
- come on now, who ever took him as a symbol of musical greatness?
Not that some of the material on this here compilation ain't great, mind
you. Yeah, Elvis is an untalented redneck, okay, so I admit it. But he's
got a great pair of vocal chords, and at least in the early days he was
saddled with some terrific material (mostly courtesy of Leiber and Stoller,
but there were probably thousands of corporate songwriters hackin' at it
- that's why, if you try digging deep, you'll find that even the early
stuff is very much hit and miss), not to mention the excellent musicianship.
Do not forget that Scotty Moore, who played on most of these early recordings,
was a guitar genius; he's one of my favourite guitar players from the Fifties,
next only to Chuck Berry. But his style is very different from Berry's
- more 'traditional' and restrained, but in many ways, more subtle and
tasty. Be sure to check out the brilliant solos on 'Tutti Frutti' and 'Hound
Dog': minimalistic, but quite effective. I'd bet you anything John Fogerty
was a Scotty Moore fan.
In that respect, most of the songs on Disc 1 here rule. The sappy ballads
spoil the fun from time to time ('Love Me Tender', whatever you people
say, is overplayed sentimental fluff, together with 'Don't'), but how can
one resist the temptation of the headbanger 'Hard Headed Woman'? Or the
heat and fury of 'Jailhouse Rock'? Or the be-be-be-boppiness of 'King Creole'?
The catchiness and frenetic pulsation of 'Treat Me Nice'? The intoxicating
rhythm of 'A Big Hunk O'Love'? These songs are all classics (together with
at least a couple dozen more which are not included here), and there's
no getting away from that. Yes, Elvis is overrated; but the songs rule.
These early cuts amply demonstrate that corporate songwriting can
be a blessing when it's placed in the right hands at the right time and
for the right purposes (the Monkees are another excellent example of such
a process).
Unfortunately, Disc 2 is almost as totally rote as Disc 1 is totally brilliant:
it concentrates on Elvis' post-Sun years, and the percentage of fluff rises
immediately. The further it gets, the worse it becomes: this is especially
obvious as the songs are arranged chronologically. The first ten songs
on Disc 2 are indeed hit and miss: next to dreadful embarrassments like
the murky doo-wop of 'Are You Lonesome Tonight', the sacchariney balladeering
of 'Can't Help Falling In Love' and the ridiculous German folk stylization
of 'Wooden Heart' reside lost gems like 'Devil In Disguise' (love that
infernal beat) and 'His Latest Flame' (love that acoustic pounding). Plus,
I may be a weenie, but I really love 'Good Luck Charm' and 'Return To Sender'
- two little poppy gems, memorable, nice and not at all appalling.
But the last ten songs are a horrendous disaster - apart from a minor 'comeback'
of 'Guitar Man' and the mad lead guitarwork on 'Viva Las Vegas', there
is not a single good thing to be said about them. They're so bad I honestly
think the compilators simply did a suckjob on that one: I mean, yeah, Elvis
in the late Sixties and early Seventies was not a pretty sight, but did
he really only release such awful crap as 'In The Ghetto' or gospel
fodder like 'The Wonder Of You'? Whatever. A truly unique compilation:
starts out in rock'n'roll heaven and ends in banal pop hell. In fact, I
rarely ever put the second disc onto the playing deck, and when I do, I
always shut it down after 'Guitar Man' because only somebody with untrivial
suicidal tendencies would love to hear Elvis grunt his way through
'My Way'...
It's all the more pathetic as this compilation does NOT fulfill the basic
necessity of an Elvis compilation: rationally separate the dreck from the
brilliance. I sincerely believe it is possible to sort out his messy
Sixties and Seventies catalogue and fish out the couple dozen or so decent
or even great songs that could be saved for future generations to come.
Unfortunately, this work has not been done, and I doubt whether anybody
really cares.
All in all, do not make the mistake of dismissing Elvis completely.
Your collection is basically incomplete if you don't own at least one little
compilation of the early Sun years material; and it is not because he was
'important' that you should own something like that, it's because the music
was really really good. It might have been sung by anybody else: fuck Elvis,
they could have picked out any ambitious young Southern redneck with a
nice pair of chords and a cute butt. Don't just sit there crying 'Elvis
is a manufactured doll!' First of all, this is not one hundred percent
true, and second, even if it is, who gives a damn? Hell, I reviewed the
Monkees on this here site and gave them a rating of two, and I could
care less whether they're manufactured or not: the music is good! For further
details on manufacturing and the commercial side of music, please check
out my essay number two, located elsewhere on
this site. In the meantime, I'll go and put on 'Heartbreak Hotel' because
I'm so sad because nobody agrees with me...
What do you think of Elvis Presley? Mail your ideas!
Your worthy comments:
Joshua Fiero <jfiero1@lsu.edu> (10.01.2000)
Elvis couldn't play guitar or write songs, it's true, but I think folks identify those things too closely with what makes a performer truly talented; there is, after all, such a thing as a singer whose special gifts lie in an ability to interpret material. Your inference that he's similar to the Monkees is well-made, but a bit glib. True, Elvis was not self-contained, in the way Buddy Holly or Carl Perkins were, and his handlers had an inordinate control over his artistic decisions, but he was still something special. While I understand that you may have no love for the vocal music that topped the charts pre-1960, there is a tremendous body of work out there created by people who never wrote a note, in tandem with "real" creators, and much of it is well worth hearing. Elvis, though he is idenitified as a rock legend, worked primarily within that tradition. He simply happened to love the blues and country, two forms which experienced a great deal of collusion during that period in American history, due to the similar social status of the target audiences for both genres. Just remember that Elvis was a singer, first and foremost, and a ferociously talented one at that. Sure, "In the Ghetto" blows as a song, but his performance is inspired: just think if the material had matched that sincere, soulfull interpretation! The tunes you love from the compilation's first disc are, there's no denying, great, precisely because that was the only time in the man's life when the product was equal to the producer. Though don't to think so, they would suffer without Elvis' presence.
Jeff Blehar <jdb3@jhu.edu> (05.02.2000)
Hey, I hate to burst your bubble, but you have a pretty comical misstatement
on this here Elvis section of your site: NONE of the songs here are from
Elvis Presley's "Sun Sessions." Not a dang one. That early stuff
on the CD you're reviewing is from his early RCA material ("Heartbreak
Hotel," "Hound Dog," "Don't Be Cruel," etc.) recorded
1956-57 right after he left Sun. The "Sun" sessions consists
of songs like "That's All Right Mama," "Milk Cow Blues,"
"Blue Moon Of Kentucky" and "Mystery Train," all amazing
little classics. Just wanted to clear that misconception up.
If you can, you oughta get your hands on a copy of the Sun Sessions
if possible (you'll NEVER find them mixed in with his RCA material, for
licensing reasons, except possibly on some box sets--I'm not too familiar
with his output, to be sure), because they give more creedence to the Elvis-as-innovator
claim than the stuff you're reveiwing. In fact, many folks contend that
everything AFTER Sun was one long slow decline for the King, and that only
those sessions were truly brilliant. I think that's rough on the guy myself,
but what's important about these sessions is that they're NOT product given
to the man--he chose to cover these songs himself, played guitar (darn
well, though not Scotty Moore quality) and worked on the arrangements.
His interpretation and phrasing are more than half the genius here; at
this point he's not just performing material shoved at him, but choosing
to cover songs he knows and loves, and like the best covers by ANY band
or artist (Beatles, Stones, etc.) he wholly reinvents the material and
makes it his own.
[Special author note: yeah,
right, got muddled again. You caught me! I did hear some of the real Sun
material, though, like 'That's All Right Mama' and 'Mystery Train' and
'Good Rockin' Tonight' (all great tunes, of course). And funny enough,
they WERE mixed in with his RCA material on the one double LP I mentioned
above - the French 40-hit collection. Perhaps licensing problems are not
so stark in France... I'm pretty sure it wasn't a bootleg.]
Maybe not a genuine rock'n'roller, but certainly a creative soul behind the process.
Album: Blueberry Hill/Greatest Hits (Music Reflection, 1994)
Track listing:
1) Blueberry Hill; 2) I'm Ready; 3) Ain't That A Shame; 4) So Long; 5)
Hello Josephine; 6) Blue Monday; 7) Jambalaya; 8) Oh What A Price; 9) I'm
In The Mood For Love; 10) Let The Four Winds Blow; 11) I Want To Walk You
Home; 12) I'm Gonna Be A Wheel Someday; 13) Whole Lotta Loving; 14) Domino
Twist; 15) The Fat Man; 16) Please Don't Leave Me; 17) Red Sails In The
Sunset; 18) Be My Guest; 19) I'm In Love Again; 20) Goin' Home
Fats Domino wasn't actually a rock'n'roll performer.
Most of the time, he was doing his stuff big band style, and his whole
output reeks of jazz and jazz-pop more than anything else. However, I understand
that when we're talking early stages of rock'n'roll, when it was just evolving
from R'n'B which was itself evolving from a mixture of gospel and jazz,
any definite and concise definitions are simply impossible. I don't think
that even highly professional musical experts might prove that Fats was
'jazz' or, on the contrary, was 'rock'. But who cares anyway and who needs
labels? Above all, Fats was an entertainer, and a good one at that. We
all know that he influenced just about anybody: the Beatles performed his
songs, him being an especial favourite of McCartney, not to mention that
both Paul and John ended up recording 'Ain't That A Shame' on their
solo albums, while Mick Jagger, as everybody knows, took the famous 'rap'
advice - 'screw the words, concentrate on the music' (this is not a quotation)
and made it one of his main mottos.
I, however, am not discussing mottos here, and I didn't set up this page
to determine who was an influence on whom; I don't care for artists if
their main function was 'to influence'. Thankfully, Fats' music goes far
beyond 'influential', and this here CD is a superb one, absolutely listenable
and enjoyable today and, I hope, fit to listen two thousand years from
now in case the material doesn't give way. I'm not exactly sure about the
quality of this stuff: the CD seems of a bootleg-character, and the sound
is often terrible. See, this is not just 'greatest hits', this is 'greatest
hits live', and I'm pretty sure it's a rather late recording - Sixties,
maybe, or even Seventies. The material, however, is all classic, in fact,
I can hardly see anything really important from the Fats catalogue that
is omitted. And whatever be the sound quality, you always get used to it
in the end, doncha? Anyway, my main complaint is that it is very hard to
hear Fats singing, but after all, that was probably the main idea, right?
And on the other hand, all the crowd noises only add to the excitement
and the adrenaline-pumping generated by the songs.
So Fats might be 'jazz', but the main thing is that he was a great songwriter
and entertainer - I would really love to see him perform live. Imagine
a piano-playing Louis Armstrong with just as much playing talent and twice
as much charm and audience attracting ability, and you have a vague portrait
of Fats. Whether he's playing a retroish slow jazz-pop number ('Blueberry
Hill', an ancient Armstrong trademark, in fact), a bit of soul ('Red Sails
In The Sunset') or a lightning-speed, guts-spinning 'jazz-boogie' song
('I'm Ready', 'Jambalaya'), he's always listenable, catchy and oh so clever.
The backing band is terrific - you can't get away from that brass section
wherever you go. And, of course, there's the speed factor. Rock'n'roll?
Chuck Berry? Nah. Nobody played as fast as good ol' Fats and his
band in the old days; 'I'm Ready' and 'I'm Gonna Be A Wheel Someday' set
a speed record for early rock'n'rollers, in fact, they set a speed record
probably unsurpassed to this day, certainly not surpassed by the
Ramones or these clowns the Sex Pistols. You can almost feel the wind in
your face.
On top of that, Fats is a wonderful piano player. He doesn't really bash
down the chords as some crazy guy of the Jerry Lee Lewis race, but gives
out complicated, diverse and delicate passages instead, unfortunately,
often marred by the sound quality on here. And his voice, while the words
are indeed hardly understandable, is a nice, soothing one, all dribbling
with sympathy and charm: just listen to his amusing 'wah-wah' choruses
on 'Fat Man' or the gentle, sweet, almost sexy tone on 'I'm In The Mood
For Love'. But the most amazing thing is that none of these twenty
tracks sounds banal or corny, whether it's syrupy or not. Maybe it's because
of the high quality of the backing band. Maybe because each of the songs
has an amazing hook, sometimes more than one. Maybe it's because the songs
are diverse: the only pattern that might get on your nerves is the 'slow
stately ballad' type, with songs like 'So Long', 'Blue Monday' and the
above-mentioned 'I'm In The Mood For Love' all setting the same lethargic
atmosphere, but after a while you do start to notice that they all have
distinct melodies of their own. Whatever; I just like this record very
very much, together with its shitty quality, and wouldn't wanna trade it
for a 'true' greatest hits package. Who knows, maybe the excitement will
disappear together with the live sound? Have you ever considered that possibility?
What do you think of Fats Domino? Mail your ideas!
The Wild Man of Rock'n'Roll. Maybe not the first punk, though.
Album: Greatest Hits - Finest Performances (Sun Records, 1995)
Track listing:
1) Whole Lotta Shakin' Going On; 2) Little Queenie; 3) Breathless; 4) Teen
Age Letter; 5) Lewis Boogie; 6) I Can't Seem To Say Goodbye; 7) Great Balls
Of Fire; 8) Crazy Arms; 9) End Of The Road; 10) It'll Be Me; 11) Move On
Down The Line; 12) You Win Again
Who do you think actually represented the Teenage
Spirit of Rock'n'Roll in the Fifties? Chuck Berry? Nay, he was a bit too
professional and laid back for that. Little Richard? Too gospelish and
much too weird. Besides, both were black, and these were the Fifties. Elvis?
Perhaps. But Elvis was a seriously manufactured figure, and he sold out
in a minute. Nay, nay, nay; the true spirit of rock'n'roll resided in that
curly-haired Southerner called Jerry Lee who did 'my little boogie every
day'. At one point, Jerry Lee was in my personal Top Ten performers of
all time, and to this day, he's my favourite idol from the early period
of the devil's music. Sloppy, drunk, braggard, self-indulgent, nasty and
swaggerish, there is one truth you can't deny about him: he used to say
he was the best, and that was the truth.
I mean, Jerry not only showed America and the world that you can
rock out and be a teenage God when you're playing the piano. Little Richard
played piano, too. Jerry showed the world that it isn't so much the instrument
(which he was always great at playing), and it isn't so much the voice
(which was arguably the best white voice in the business - cut that Elvis
crap, please), but it's the attitude and the burnin' spirit that makes
for excellent rock music and is really the most important thing in the
whole business. Of course, you'll say that this sounds stupid - everybody
had an attitude and enough spirit to burn. But Jerry Lee carried it out
to the extreme - at least, as far as it was able to go in the Fifties.
He was the Pete Townshend and the Johnny Rotten of the epoch, with one
serious difference: he had no real 'anger' inside of him. His rebellion
and smash-it-all-to-bits attitude was not really directed against anyone.
On the contrary, deep inside Jerry was a totally ordinary, unpretentious
guy who wanted to make pretty girls, have a big shiny car and a house to
keep the booty in - the only thing he did was, ahem, resort to unusual
measures in order to fulfill his dream.
In any case, Jerry was the Killer, no doubt about that. That ain't the
problem. The problem is that this latest greatest compilation is as shamelessly
short as it could be. Twelve songs? Do you realize how short this
CD is? And that's the only CD issue of JLL I could lay my hands on; you
don't know how much it depresses me. Thankfully, I have a couple more hit
packages on vinyl, so this manages to comfort my unhappy days... If you're
short on money and see this in some long forgotten used bin for something
like half a cent, pick it up; if you're a bit more lucky, please buy a
boxset or some other goodie that has more songs. As far as I understand,
the All Killer No Filler compilation is pretty good, though it concentrates
a bit too heavily on Jerry's country years. These were good, too: Jerry
Lee is a tremendously underrated country performer, but still, it's his
early Sun rock years that he'll always be remembered for, rather like Elvis.
Let's imagine, anyway, that this is your only Jerry Lee album in the world.
In that case, if you're not charmed by the moment the first thunderesque
vocals of 'Whole Lotta Shakin' Going On' echo throughout your room, you
probably have an allergy on rock'n'roll and should be listening to Pat
Boone instead. Jerry didn't write any of these songs except for 'Lewis
Boogie' which wasn't that hard to write because it's just a clone of 'Great
Balls Of Fire', and 'End Of The Road', which is quite good but not the
best on here; however, he manages to make every single tune his own, including
Chuck's 'Little Queenie'. I bet you all know the trademark Jerry Lee style:
bash out the incredibly fast boogie-woogie rhythm on the piano, sing the
vocals in a sly, sexually arousing tone, alternating raunchy low notes
with an almost devilish falsetto, and, of course, amply demonstrate his
killer abilities on the solo. The regular Sun players often assist him
in the process, and Scotty Moore in person contributes guitar solos, so
everything's as fun as it can only get. And, of course, 'Whole Lotta Shakin'
Going On', 'Great Balls Of Fire', 'Breathless' and 'It'll Be Me' are timeless
classics that transcend time and space with about the same easiness as
a zombie transcends the walls of your bedroom. (Was that an unsatisfying
metaphor?) Don't expect too much variety, though: the Sun company couldn't
make a varied hit collection if the plan and the exact track listing were
shoved under their nose. There are but two numbers dating from the Sixties,
and they're inferior: 'Teen Age Letter' is not very convincing a rocker,
and they couldn't have made a worse choice than 'I Can't Seem To Say Goodbye':
doo-wop does not equal country, and bad doo-wop sure does not equal
Cruising With Ruben & The Jets... Apart from that, there are
a couple slower ballads which are quite fine: 'You Win Again', in fact,
is one of the most well-known numbers in Jerry Lee's catalogue. I'm particularly
impressed by the singing on that one: sometimes, when Jerry stretches out
a note, it produces a somewhat grating effect, but more often I'm just
left amazed at his impressive vocal range and, of course, all those tricks
he could do with his voice... maybe it wasn't as technically gifted as
Elvis's, but he certainly experimented with it much, much more than Elvis
ever did.
Perhaps it's true that no studio recording can really capture the raw rock'n'roll
excitement and the 'white heat' generated by JLL at his concerts (I'd sure
love to see him pouring fuel on his piano and setting fire to it, as he
did once or twice - and in that way preceded Pete Townshend as rock's first
'self-destructor' by almost ten years), but these Sun singles come pretty
close. And the production is amazingly fresh, too; perhaps they have remastered
everything, but the recording almost seems to be breathing out of your
CD player. Just don't buy it: whoever wants a JLL CD with only twelve tracks
on it?
What do you think of Jerry Lee Lewis? Mail your ideas!
Your worthy comments:
Joshua Fiero <jfiero1@lsu.edu> (11.01.2000)
Hey, I guess I'm starting to sound like one o' them freaky Elvis nuts, but I find myself compelled . . . Jerry Lee Lewis was a force to be reckoned with, it's true, but Elvis was just as powerful a vocalist. Listen to the way he tears into the material on the "informal" second disc of the Memories compilaton (taken from the NBC comeback special). That gritty, full-throated, wonderfully energetic, and, once again, _soulfull_ voice--that, as much as the swaying hips and sneering lip, is what people revere about the King. All my own qualms about the man's authenticity as a performer melt away before his forceful, rocking growl; it's the sort of thing you can't fake.
<Jspiers316@aol.com> (20.02.2000)
there is a somewhat new jll compilation. it is called 18 original sun hits. it's probably the best jll collection around.
The Father of Rock Music. How's your vocal chords doing these days, Daddy?
Album: Greatest Hits (Elap Music Ltd., 1993)
Track listing:
1) Good Golly Miss Molly; 2) Lucille; 3) Long Tall Sally; 4) Tutti Frutti;
5) Ready Teddy; 6) Rip It Up; 7) Keep A-Knockin'; 8) Slippin' And Slidin';
9) Jenny Jenny; 10) Baby Face; 11) The Girl Can't Help It; 12) She's Got
It; 13) All Around The World; 14) Bama Lama Bama Loo; 15) By The Light
Of The Silvery Moon; 16) Can't Believe You Wanna Leave
What has Richard Penniman that others do not have?
What makes him special? What makes him worth a paragraph or two on the
crappiest review site in existence? Why couldn't we just live on happy
and fearless ever after and not give a damn about some stinkin' rock'n'roll
performer, just one more out of the hundreds of performers to introduce
the devil's music to the world in the Fifties... whoah, brother, not so
fast. Little Richard wasn't just 'another rock'n'roll performer'. Little
Richard was the first rock'n'roll performer, and if you'd put me
down on my knees in the corner of the room, pressed a gun against my back
and commanded me to deny the fact, I'd just tell you to beat it, bro'er,
and happily die as a rock'n'roll martyr. Indeed, what Little Richard did
was take the somewhat old and already stagnating musical form of R&B
and wire it up - and it worked. He added the beat; added the speed; added
the sexuality; added the fire; added the enthusiasm and the raunchiness
- and rock'n'roll was born, in the form of Mr Penniman's earliest recordings.
If you're familiar with Little Richard's hits already, you'll see from
the track listing that this is really one superb compilation. It does omit
a few high points in addition to featuring several low points ('By The
Light Of The Silvery Moon' is a stupid late-period pop ditty that should
have never made it on here), but for the most part the songs on here are
all stellar. In fact, I can hardly think of any other album in my collection,
including hit compilations and everything, where your brains would be smashed
and smashed and smashed by such a vicious onset of boogie sound - nine
times in a row, before the somewhat gentler, but cutesy 'Baby Face' finally
gives you a break before the other headbangers. And what songs, my God!
'Good Golly Miss Molly'! 'Lucille'! 'Long Tall Sally'... stop it, I have
already typed down the track listing, no need to repeat it again in all
entirety. Every single number - a gem. Every single number - a timeless
classic, covered by dozens, if not hundreds, of other artists. Catchy as
hell. Firey. Dripping with energy. Excellently performed and recorded.
Wow. You haven't lived if you haven't heard this.
Now, frankly speaking, it's very easy to see that this is only the beginning
phase of rock and roll. These songs are rarely guitar-based: the main instruments
are still brass, and if I'm not mistaken, you only get a guitar solo on
'Bama Lama Bama Loo', which is a relatively late minor hit for Richard,
recorded in 1964 and supposedly featuring Jimi Hendrix, again, if I'm not
mistaken. So the instrumentation hasn't yet caught up with the change in
genre, and I know people (my younger brother, for instance) who really
dislike the use of brass in straightforward rock'n'roll performances. Now
this is a controversial point, but I do agree that sometimes it gets tiresome.
On the other hand, the brass can go to hell: it's the voice, that lionish
roar that really sets hearts on fire. Nobody's been able to beat the 'primal'
Little Richard scream yet - no white boy has such powerful lungs and immaculate
vocal chords. Some of these songs have been recorded in better versions
afterwards, but nobody beat the vocals, although John Fogerty came really
really close on his version of 'Good Golly Miss Molly'.
Actually, now that I think of it, I usually prefer these songs done by
other artists - every time that it boils down to arrangements and instrumentation,
at least. I like CCR's version of 'Good Golly Miss Molly' better because
of Fogerty's magnificent guitar workouts; I like the Beatles' classic version
of 'Long Tall Sally'; the way Elvis did 'Tutti Frutti' and 'Ready Teddy';
the way Lennon did 'Slippin' And Slidin'; the way the Animals did 'The
Girl Can't Help It'. All of these later covers have one thing in common:
they emphasize the arrangements, making them more complex, diverse and
technically entertaining. Yet none come close to capture the very essence
of them, because the essence lies in the 'primal scream' that only Little
Richard was gifted with. Clearly a powerful R&B singer, he was one
of the few, if not the only, black R&B singer to make a painless transition
into rock and roll, and there can hardly be anything more exciting and
jaw-dropping than a first-rate R&B singer converted to rock'n'roll.
If you don't believe me, just try listening to 'Jenny Jenny'. Ever heard
that one? With the most stupendous, ear-shattering vocal workout in rock
ever? Where it's even hard for Richard himself to keep up with the
self-imposed pace so he ends up swallowing syllables? If, one sunny day,
you find out that you can sing like that, too, try lifting up the Statue
of Liberty. Maybe you'll be able.
In any case, out of all my early rock'n'roll collections, this one seems
to be the most consistent with the least filler (oh, if you don't count
the minuscule Finest Performances of Jerry Lee Lewis, of course,
but it's so tiny I hardly notice it at all). 'By The Light Of The Silvery
Moon', 'Can't Believe You Wanna Leave' (generic slow R&B; get the hell
outa here, no brilliant singing is gonna save that one), that's about it;
all the other songs are winners. A perfectly crafted collection; if you
find something even remotely approaching the track listing grab it immediately
before it runs away. After all, he's the father of rock'n'roll. Who wants
to have all the sons and no father? That would be orphanage!
What do you think of Little Richard? Mail your ideas!
The dude that gave the Rolling Stones their name. Oh yeah, played some nifty songs too...
Album: The Blues (Elap Music Ltd., 1995)
Track listing:
1) Forty Days And Forty Nights; 2) Rollin' And Tumblin'; 3) All Aboard;
4) Rock Me; 5) Rollin' Stone; 6) I'm Ready; 7) Standing Around Crying;
8) She Moves Me; 9) I Feel So Good; 10) Mean Red Spider; 11) Goin' Home;
12) Baby Please Don't Go; 13) Train Fare Blues; 14) So Glad I'm Living;
15) She's All Right; 16) You're Gonna Miss Me; 17) Close To You; 18) Stuff
You Gotta Watch; 19) Diamonds At Your Feet; 20) You're Gonna Need My Help
Time to get down to some more old bluesmen, I
guess. I betcha everybody knows something about Muddy Waters, but pretty
few people have actually heard him, right? So had I - I didn't pick up
this dusty little CD until a couple of years ago, and boy, am I ever glad
that I listened to my conscience and brushed aside all my doubts about
how that stuff is just generic blues and how everybody in the rock camp
had already bettered him anyway. Nadah. I'm not saying Muddy rules supreme,
either: sometimes his minimalistic playing and old croaky voice really
get on my nerves, but this probably depends on the mood. Normally, this
is a very good collection showcasing Muddy in his prime: most of the recordings
are real real old, some dating from as far as the late Fourties. Naturally,
the sound quality is crappy, but in Muddy's case it only works for his
advantage: I shudder at thinking how Muddy could have sounded sometime
in the Eighties, for instance. Ever imagined Muddy rapping to the accompaniment
of high technology synthesizers, samples and electronic beats? Uh... pardon
me, I'm getting carried away.
What do people know of dear old Muddy? He's called 'king of Chicago blues',
though many in this world would be hard pressed to tell the difference
between Chicago and Delta styles. He composed the song 'Rollin' Stone'
which gave the world's greatest rock'n'roll band its moniker. He recorded
some weird tunes in the Fifties and fizzled out in the Sixties. And, of
course, if you say 'I like Muddy Waters', you're going to be respected
in elite society.
Other than that, though, Muddy did quite a lot. He was one of blues' most
distinctive singers - while this is not very obvious on the more 'upbeat',
bouncy tunes on here ('You're Gonna Miss Me', which, by the way, was ripped
off by corporate songwriters for both 'That's All Right' and 'My Baby Left
Me'), the slower tunes often give me the creeps. Just listen to the menacing
growl of 'Rock Me', the dark, gruff tone of 'Rollin' Stone', the dreadful
'ha-ha' on 'Close To You' and the Zeus-style roaring on 'I'm Ready' and
you'll understand why none of these songs ever charted and never had any
hope for charting: they're so 'uncomfortable' and basically 'evil' in their
essence that Muddy was probably the worst curse for traditional America
before Elvis and Jerry Lee came along. He was a mean and powerful guitar
player: actually, he pioneered the use of electric guitar in blues, having
switched to it from slide in the mid-Fourties, and, even if today his playing
may sound dated and far too clumsy, it still produces a strong effect:
what about the cute little riff on 'Rollin' And Tumblin' and those trademark
electric blues solos all over the place, the ones that have been reproduced
by numerous blues and blues-rock players for an endless amount of times
since then? Listen to Clapton playing his Unplugged show and you'll
see he's still copping the same licks.
Primarily, though, Muddy was a first-rate composer, and certainly far from
limiting himself to the standard blues pattern. I mean, a lot of these
songs are just your standard blues numbers, especially at the end, where
uninspired ditties like 'Stuff You Gotta Watch' and 'Diamonds At Your Feet'
sound quite generic and I usually just skip them. But more than half of
the tunes all have something special for them to be distinguished from
the 'average stuff'. 'Rollin' Stone', for instance, has a really weird,
twisted, ragged melody, which sometimes leaves me in doubt as to whether
there's really a melody, but I don't care - I'm just amazed at that diabolic
guitar 'cacophony'. 'Rollin' And Tumblin' is one of my favourite blues
tunes ever - and that awesome riff was indeed invented by Muddy,
not by Jack Bruce or Eric Clapton. 'All Aboard' is a terrific train-imitating
blues, with Muddy impersonating a railman as he lets off steam and imitates
the whistle with his harp. 'Rock Me' is perhaps the dreariest, scariest,
most devilish music ever got before, well, before the Rolling Stones. That
dark guitar tone, 'satanic' harp lines, and Muddy's terrifying, slow, mocking
vocals combine to produce America's worst nightmare - 'I want you to rock
me/'Til my back ain't got a bone...'. You know something's not right
here when you remember that Jim Morrison employed exactly the same
intonations for 'Cars Hiss By My Window' on L. A. Woman, and that
something is a death threat to traditional morals and the middle class
culture in general... sorry again, I'm a bit digressing, but I'm just saying
the truth, ain't I? 'Standing Around Crying' is a masterful tour de
force - the slowest blues ever possible, dreamy, lethargic, with a
magnificent 'crying' harp duelling with the furious guitar picking, totally
fascinating. And believe me, there are other great tunes on here, too:
I just wouldn't want to describe all of them. After all, it's a compilation,
and chances are that you don't have any of these songs on your personal
compilation of Muddy Waters. Although, if your compilation omits at least
half of this material, you'd better get yourself a better one.
Of course, those who don't tolerate electric blues as a genre (and yes,
there's a lot of people like that in the world), don't need no Waters,
be they muddy or not. But in any case, there's no denying the tremendous
importance of the man for twentieth century music in general. This ain't
rock'n'roll by any means: this is pure blues. But if you ask me, this is
where rock'n'roll has its beginnings as a serious, protesting kind of music.
Because, unlike Fats Domino or Little Richard or lots of other performers
in the business that actually were rock'n'rollers or at least came
pretty dang close, Muddy wasn't just a laughing, smiling, clown of an entertainer.
You can't dance to 'Standing Around Crying', after all. You gotta feel
it, you gotta enjoy it as music, not as fuel for your feet. You gotta get
that passion for the dark and the weird and the sensitive and the emotional
and everything. In my opinion, this is the side that rock'n'roll was entirely
lacking throughout the Fifties, and it only got that side after British
bands started to get a bit more serious. Which, of course, couldn't have
happened if they didn't have good old Muddy Waters right there beside them
to rely upon. Rest in peace, Muddy.
What do you think of Muddy Waters? Mail your ideas!
Your worthy comments:
Fredrik Tydal <f_tydal@hotmail.com> (16.01.2000)
Muddy Waters can't actually claim sole author-ship of "Rollin' And Tumblin'" since it's very inspired by legendary Delta blues man Robert Johnsons "If I Had Possession Over Judgement Day". I know; I was very surprised myself. I guess Muddy Waters did what everyone else was doing at the time; borrowing other's material and interpretating it. I was sitting casually listening to a CD with every single one of the twenty-nine songs Robert Johnson recorded in his short life-time. When I got to "If I Had Possession Over Judgement" I suddenly thought I recognized the opening guitar part. I thought it wasn't very strange; since people like Keith Richards and Eric Clapton had been quite inspired by this guy. But then I instantly heard why I recognized the song; the words "if I had possession over judgement day" was sang exactly like Muddys "Well, I rolled and I tumbled - cried the whole night long". By then it was quite clear what was going on and my suspiscions were strenghtened when I heard Robert Johnson sing: "And I rolled and tumbled and I cried the whole night long. Well, I woke up this morning my [unhearable] gone." Then he goes on for two further verses. So, Robert had the riff and the lyrics. Muddy took the riff and added and improved the lyrics. I think it was a bit unhonest by Muddy to claim credit for the song; but I don't know - maybe that was the way things were run back then...
Mike DeFabio <defab4@earthlink.net> (10.10.2000)
This guy rocks. My compilation omits more than half this material, but
that's because I've only got Volume One. I'm hoping to get Volume
2 at some point. I'm really starting to get into this old blues stuff.
It doesn't really matter that the songs are all pretty much the same, it's
the sound. That really hissy, crackly, saturated, whole-band-gathered-around-one-mic-sound
that makes the music sound, at least to my 17 year old ears, like it's
existed since the beginning of time or something. And maybe it has! What
if nothing existed before March 1983? Wouldn't that be scary? But my point
is, it's got this really neat OLD sound, that old blues record sound that
makes me wanna go out and great big milkshake.
What? Don't you like milkshakes?