I’ve had a request to name my all time favourite Top 20 Rock and Roll recordings. Not the sort of request I’d ignore. I’ve confined myself to 1956-1960 – The Golden Age – each artist gets one record only, and I’ve excluded all rockabilly records. So what’s the difference between Rock and Roll and Rockabilly? Well, Rockabilly is more influenced by country and bluegrass, and Rock and Roll is more blues and rhythm and blues – i.e. it’s more “black”. To me, early Elvis is Rockabilly, while almost everything he cut after “Heartbreak Hotel” is Rock and Roll. Which category a record belongs in is entirely subjective.
So, with those parameters in place, here goes:
“Little Queenie”, Chuck Berry. Could have been “Let It Rock”, but this just shades it because of the wonderfully relaxed but irresistible beat and Johnnie Johnson’s wonderful tinkling piano accompaniment and the 27” guitar outro during which you hear a small group of musicians playing as perfectly together as Booker T and the MGs on “Green Onions” – the ultimate “groove”. The lyrics are brilliant and sly and Berry’s delivery of the spoken lines drips with innuendo. Lust on vinyl. The Rolling Stones’ live version on Get Yer Ya-Yas Out is slower and heavier, but only a smidgin less wonderful than the original. The original reached a miserable No. 32 on the US charts.
“Be-Bop-a-Lula”, Gene Vincent and The Blue Caps. One of the greatest R&R vocals ever – yearning and deranged but controlled. Add in Cliff Gallup’s two stupendous guitar solos and the group yelling in the background and you have Rock and Roll perfection. It’s surprisingly slow and light – the drummer uses the brushes a lot – and, given that Vincent delivers many of his lines unaccompanied, it’s by no means your standard R&R stomper. No. 7 in the US, 16 in the UK.
“Brand New Cadillac” , Vince Taylor. Listening to just about anything else by this British-born rocker, it’s hard to figure how he ever managed to produce anything as brilliant as this. The song was covered by The Clash, with ruder lyrics. British Rock & Roll’s finest – if somewhat unexpected – hour. Failed to chart.
“Peter Gunn”, Duane Eddy. This toweing Rock and Roll instrumental is a cover of Henry Mancini’s theme for a US TV detective series of the same name. It is unbelievably heavy for its time: I’m not sure we’d heard a bass that fat and crisp before. Duane Eddy is basically a member of the rhythm section here, helping create an atmosphere of driving menace. The real star of this 2’25” show is undoubtedly the sax player, Steve Douglas, who carries the main tune and provides the fear and hysteria. The whole performance conjures up a chase: the rhythm section is doing the chasing, the saxophone is squealing and shrieking as it desperately tries to escape. No.27 in the US, 6 in the UK. (Duane Eddy was responsible for my favourite album title of all time - The Biggest Twang of Them All. A proud boast indeed.)
“You Can’t Judge A Book By Looking At The Cover”, Bo Diddley. Gallops along on the back of a walking bass pattern, Diddley’s simple, choppy, shimmering rhythm guitar, and constant maracas. It was either this or “Bring It To Jerome”. No. 48 in the US.
“Love Potion No.9”, The Clovers. R&R’s ultimate songwriting duo, Leiber & Stoller tell the tale of a man suffering from erectile dysfunction who visits Madame Ruth – “You know, that gypsy with the gold-capped tooth”. She sorts him out (apparently “it smelled like turpentine and looked like India Ink”), but too well, and “when I kissed a cop at 34th and Vine, he broke my little bottle of Love Potion No. 9”. This complex little tale is recounted in 1’55” – and that includes a repeated verse and a saxophone break! Irresistible. No. 23 in the US. (I also came across this cover version by a cute girl with a terrific voice on You Tube.)
“Rave On”, Buddy Holly. There were at least ten Holly performances vying for this slot – but this won out because of the famous unaccompanied intro: “A-weh-ah-heh-ah-hell!” “Maybe Baby” and “Well All Right” are equally worthy. “That’ll Be The Day” is just too rockabilly for inclusion – or there would have been no contest. Chap was a genius. No. 37 in the US, 5 in the UK (he was always more popular over here).
“Move It”, Cliff Richard & The Drifters. The song’s writer, Ian Samwell, played rhythm guitar, while fellow Drifters’ member (what The Shadows were originally called) Terry Smart on drums, supplemented by session musicians Ernie Shear on lead guitar and Frank Clarke on upright bass. Together, they produced the first great slice of British Rock & Roll (pretty much an oxymoronic term at that time). Given the sheer awfulness of what had gone before, this was a bit of a miracle. The unaccompanied lead guitar intro, the driving monotone of the rhythm guitar, and the way the drums and walking bass come in is just perfect. Even Cliff’s performance is convincing! No. 2 in the UK.
“Susie Q”, Dale Hawkins. Cowbells, hand-claps, band yells and one of the greatest rock guitar performances ever committed to vinyl, created by that giant of the fretboard, James Burton (who went on to play for Ricky Nelson, Elvis Presley, Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris). No. 27 in the US.
“Somethin’ Else”, Eddie Cochran. The most “modern” track recorded in the 1950s. The stop/start bass and drums create the template for Heavy Metal. The long fade out, with just the rhythm section chunking along is addictive – it makes you want to play it again right away. And again. And again… Eddie Cochran was 20 years old when he cut this. He was an exceptional guitar player, with a sound all his own, a great singer, a brilliant song-writer and already a master of the recording studio. Good looking, too. And, by all accounts, a nice bloke. So he dies in a car crash on a tour of England at the age of 21. I believe in God, but sometimes… No. 58 in the US, 22 in the UK (shame on both of you!).
“Sea Cruise”, Frankie Ford. One of the loudest records ever. A raucous slice of New Orlean’s R&B with speed, bite and volume all cranked up to 11. The ship’s horn sounds add to the pandemonium. Frankie was a white boy, backed by the demented Huey Smith and his band, The Clowns, for this session. (Smith wrote and recorded the superb “Don’t You Just Know It” and “Rockin’ Pneumonia and the Boogie-Woogie Flu”.) No.14 in the US.
“Quarter To Three”, Gary U.S. Bonds. Makes “Sea Cruise” sound relatively sedate. Recorded in a studio in Norfolk, Virginia, it sounds as if Gary and the band are standing at the bottom of a deep well, with the microphone, evidently wrapped in a duvet, suspended some way above them. Only the handclappers and the shrieking saxophone player sound like they’re in the same State. By, by God, it rocks! This young man went on to enjoy a long and distinguished career across several musical genres. “New Orleans” and “Twist, Twist Senora” are way up there with this classic. No.1 in the US, 6 in the UK.
“Lucille”, Little Richard. The coolest, most locked-into-a-groove opening to any record, ever: Richard Penniman’s group, The Upsetters (so named because of the effect they had on audiences) were as tight a unit as ever existed. One of the great rock voices. No. 21 in the US, 10 in the UK.
“Great Balls of Fire”, Jerry Lee Lewis. Oh Lord, this is so good. One of those terrific acapella openings rock’s brilliant singers were so good at, the Sun Record musicians providing that seemingly effortlessly perfect bedrock of rhythm-drenched boogie, witty lyrics, and The Killer putting in the greatest vocal performance of his life – all sly and leering and barely able to contain himself at the same time. And then there’s the piano-playing – no one has ever, and I mean everplayed rock and roll piano better. But the big question is – how has this man managed to reach the age of 74? How? No. 2 in the US, No. 1 in the UK.
“Sea of Love”. Phil Phillips & The Twilights. Quintessential street corner doowop. The whole recording is wonderfully ropey: everyone apart from the lead singer sounds as if they’re rehearsing the song for the first time, and a whole minute goes by before the bass singer manages a single note in tune. Phillips, though, is magnificent throughout and the actual song is weirdly compelling (hence it’s longevity and the fact that it was used as the title for a successful Al Pacino movie in which it featured heavily). It reached No. 2 on the US national charts. Phillips’s total reward was $6008. Because he fought for his rights to more royalties, his career ended there and then. No. 2 in the US.
“Be My Guest”, Fats Domino. A ray of Crescent City sunshine from one of popular music’s greatest performers. If you’ve ever wondered where Blue Beat and Ska came from (and I realize you probably haven’t) it’s all here – horns, saxophone, walking bass-lines, rhythm accent on the upbeat. Jaunty, happy, joyous – the ultimate good-time music, from a supremely talented musician who was as wide as he was tall. I feel a warm glow of affection every time I hear The Fat Man’s name – or any of his lovely records. No. 8 in the US and 12 in the UK.
“Jailhouse Rock”, Elvis Presley. His greatest track is “Mystery Train”, but that’s pure rockabilly. His greatest Rock and Roll record is “Little Sister”, but that was made after 1960. So it’s this slice of sublimity instead. Hard to hear it without conjuring up images of the movie dance routine which encapsulated just about everything we True Believers loved about the man. Playwright Alan Bleasdale summed it up: when Elvis smiles, he makes us smile. No. 1 in the US and UK.
“Chantilly Lace”, The Big Bopper. I’ve loved this since I was five. An American pilot our family knew in Norway supplied us with huge jars of peanut butter and a steady supply of the latest R&R singles. It should be ambarrassing – but it’s brilliant. The flip-side, “Purple People Eater Meets The Witch Doctor”, almost got the nod, but I thought you might stop taking me seriously. No. 6 in the US, 12 in the UK. J.P. Richardson - his real name - died in the plane crash that killed Buddy Holly.
“Hippy Hippy Shake”, Chan Romero. All together now:”For Goodness’ Sake!” Romero was a young man of Spanish, Apache, Mexican, Cherokee and irish stock (one presumes he beat himself up regularly). he was Inspired by the recordings of fellow-Hispanic, Richie Valens, who died with Buddy Holly and J. P. Richardson. This recording went on to become one of the most covered songs by Merseybeat practitioners in ‘60s – but the original, which didn’t see much chart action, is still the best. No. 3 in Australia.
“Palisades Park”, Freddie Cannon. Yes, it was made in 1962, but I already cheated with “Quarter To Three” (1961). It’s here because it shouldn’t be any good – Cannon wasn’t a great singer, dancer or looker, and some of his other records are awful. But it’s wonderful – and, besides, I have many happy memories of playing this on a friend’s tinny Dansette at his house in Wimbledon. I was ten at the time, and a million pounds-worth of audio equipment couldn’t make this sound any more terrific than it did back then. No. 3 in the States, 20 in the UK.
“Cathy’s Clown”, Everly Brothers. Okay, this is No. 21, but you’ve already caught me bending the rules. A teen ballad rendered heart-breaking by the psychotic Appalachian whine and falling cadences of Don and Phil at their absolute angst-ridden best. Five weeks at No. 1 in the States and no less than seven in the UK. How nice to see genius rewarded.
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