The Fulminators are back, this time with a homage to Bo Diddley

           

I'm not sure which came first for me - the Johnny Kidd cover or the magnificent Bo Diddley original. Probably the former. They were both great - but the original was nothing short of magnificent: meaty, beaty, big and ever so threatening. 

I suppose Bo Diddley's "I Can Tell" was an odd record for a ten year old to be listening to back in 1963. I suspect we bought it (I had a fellow obsessive to enjoy this stuff with) for the "A" side, the stomping "You Can't Judge a Book By Looking at the Cover" (an important life lesson, I reckon - though I'm not sure that was Elias McDaniel's main purpose in penning it). But the thumping, muscular slowness of "I Can Tell", combined with the minatory atmosphere created by Bo's big, exotic, adult voice and the resentful anger of the lyrics, was so mesmerising, I'm pretty sure both sides of that marvellous Pye Records orange and yellow single got equal air-time at our respective homes.

I have no idea exactly what our emotional response to the record could have been back then - but there undoubtedly was a powerful response of some sort. Odd to think of white middle-class kids in England in 1963 consuming tales of lust and sexual jealousy created by adult working-class black men four thousand miles away - but I suppose it's no different (and probably a lot healthier) than today's pre-teen private schoolboys listening to the hate-filled obscenities of modern rap music.

The really odd thing is that I enjoy this music as much as I did then. And it's odd to find that my voice is now pretty much as deep as Bo's - without, needless to say, the  rich, primal, hollering quality and innate musicality that his possessed.

Bo wasn't that accomplished a guitar player: he didn't really do individual notes. But what he had was an absolutely unique style, from which he wrung every possible advantage. One of the fascinating things about the original, when you try to deconstruct it, is how little is actually going on. It's a testament to Bo's voice and guitar playing - and to the Chess Studios engineers - that the recording sounds so full. No wonder the Stones were so eager to steal some of the magic by recording there.

I once rode the same airplane as Bo Diddley (I think it was from Norfolk, Virginia to Little Rock). The flight was slightly delayed, and, as we all waited , a constant stream of fellow passengers sought the Great Man out to shake his hand. He was extremely gracious, and, it seemed, quietly pleased. I had almost reached him when we were told to board. He turned left, the curtain separating the two classes swished shut - and I didn't see him at the other end. I've always regretted that.

Anyhow, getting to know a record I've loved for nearly half a century a little better was great fun. (I tried to recreate the way the original starts off in a rather, hesitant low key way, threatening to break down completely before just managing to shift into gear - but when I tried that, inevitably, I broke down completely.)