RIP Clarence White

35 years ago today, the great guitar player, Clarence White, was killed by a drunk driver as he and his brother, Roland, were loading out after a gig. Clarence has been one of my favorite musicians for as long as I can remember, so I've decided to pay homage to him in a fun (and hopefully unique) way.

Beginning with my next post, I'm gonna take a year-by-year look at CW's electric guitar legacy. Though he revolutionized bluegrass guitar playing with The Kentucky Colonels, my favorite stuff has generally featured him on electric. So, my examination of Clarence's career actually begins midstream, in late 1965, as the Colonels are disbanding and he's discovering the joys of the Fender Telecaster. What followed over the next few years was an astounding process of reinvention, in which Clarence created a totally unique style of playing electric guitar, as revolutionary within the context of country and rock as his acoustic style was in the context of bluegrass. Oh, and just so I'm totally clear, I'll be posting about one year at a time, over the course of several months. Covering his entire electric output in one post? That's pure craziness, even by my own lofty standards of insanity.

As a teaser of said electric prowess, here's a couple tracks from the recently released Byrds album, Live At Royal Albert Hall 1971, recorded probably within a few months of the above picture. The first track is a cover of the old Jimmy Reed blues number, while the second track is the greatest country-rock song ever written about meeting aliens. Two songs with very different stylistic needs, united by CW's personal stamp of genius.

Byrds - Baby, What You Want Me To Do

Byrds - Mr. Spaceman

FYI, Live At Royal Albert Hall 1971 has been issued, not by The Byrds' longtime label, Columbia, but rather by stalwart independent, Sundazed Music. While the album is available in the CD format, Sundazed earns mad props for also issuing this album in a high-definition vinyl 2-LP set. I'm no preacher man, but if you can toss a little coin in the Sundazed collection plate, I'd say they've earned it.

Sideman Spotlight: Earl Palmer

My previous post on Sam Cooke featured a brief aside about drummer Earl Palmer. At the time, I wasn't sure if Palmer manned the kit for "Bring It On Home To Me" ... I since found out it was actually Frank Capp ... but in researching the "did he or didn't he" factotum, I found myself listening to a decent sampling of Palmer's recorded work. Which brings us to today's discussion.

Too often, "greatest ever" musician discussions become a roll call of showoffs and shredders. You know who I'm talking about. The guitar hero who crams 400,000 notes into a 30-second instrumental break or the drummer with the 172-piece kit who is damn well gonna make sure you hear all 172 pieces. Yawn City. These guys are like rocket-armed quarterbacks who'd rather demonstrate arm strength than make good decisions that win games.

"Hey Coach, did you see how far I threw that ball?"
"Very impressive. Too bad I called a screen pass."

To paraphrase from the Book of Watt, ballhogs may get the sexy highlights, but I'll take the tugboats and their service to the song. The sideman aesthetic ... at least in any music this side of post-bop jazz ... is essentially less is more. Less playing, more listening. It's not that sidemen can't solo or be a lead voice, but functionally speaking, their role is that of support. It may be a singer they're supporting, but at the very least a good sideman supports the needs of the song. The best sidemen are not necessarily the fastest or loudest, but they are invariably the best listeners and know when NOT to play. God bless the tugboats. Their sense of economy is a necessary corrective to overrated "squeaky wheel" showoffery.

Incidentally, while there's an operational difference between a sideman and a session man ... a sideman is generally a member of a touring band, while a session man is part of a band only in a studio context ... their roles are fairly similar. In fact, all session men are ad hoc sidemen, but not all sidemen are necessarily session men. Some musicians are both. Clarence White was a session man for years, including early stints with The Byrds. Later, he became a sideman in The Byrds, but also worked as a session man when the band wasn't touring. I know, it's all very complicated. But we're testing on this next week, so please take notes.

This brings us back to the greatness of Earl Palmer. I'm not sure how much touring he did, but his early work in New Orleans as part of Dave Bartholomew's studio band (1947-57) laid the groundwork for rock drumming. In 1957, he moved to Los Angeles, where he continued his prolific session career, playing on approximately 3 billion records. OK, that's a slight overstatement. Regardless, he is certainly one of the "greatest drummers of all-time," but you'd be hard-pressed to find a bona fide solo in his lengthy discography, and you certainly won't hear one today. While I won't go into a full-blown career overview ... mainly because I might run out of internet ... I do want to cover a handful of his career highlights to showcase his versatility and talents in a variety of contexts.

THE SONGS OF EARL PALMER

Fats Domino - The Fat Man - 1949

Sorry about this track's crappy sound (you can't hear Palmer's drums all that well), but a better version doesn't exist. I was on the fence about including it, but it's the first significant recording in Palmer's career, so it's in. It's also Fats Domino's first single and you gotta love his pseudo-trumpet falsetto. It's also significant because, according to Earlpedia, "(Palmer's) playing featured one of the first instances of the back beat that has come to be the most important element in rock and roll. Palmer has said, 'That song required a strong afterbeat throughout the whole piece. With Dixieland you had a strong afterbeat only after you got to the shout (last) chorus. It was sort of a new approach to rhythm music.'"

Little Richard - I Got It - 1956

"I Got It" is an obscurity in the Little Richard catalog, but it's almost identical in structure to classics like "Tutti Frutti" and "Ready Teddy," and I think it better showcases Palmer's talents. The song has Earl punching in on the 2 and 4 (the back beat) while mirroring the bass pulse with quarter notes on the ride cymbal. The tune is vintage Little Richard, but Palmer's fills, accents, stops, and starts ... especially beginning with the first chorus at :47 ... elevate it (and the band) to another level.

Lloyd Price - I'm Glad, Glad - 1956

"Lawdy Miss Clawdy" was more influential, but you won't find another Lloyd Price song with better Palmer. First, you gotta love the rolling intro. Second, after one verse, you hear not only get the hard back beat, but you get that heavy bass drum, New Orleans parade beat turnaround into the second verse. In fact, I've included this song because it's a perfect fusion of Palmer's second line background with rock's big beat future.

Professor Longhair - Tipitina - 1953

I'm going back a few years for a reason. While the Lloyd Price and Little Richard tunes took "The Fat Man's" back beat and ran with it, this Professor Longhair classic stays locked in the New Orleans rhumba/parade tradition. Palmer eschews the cymbals completely in favor of snare and bass syncopations, accenting on the 2, but before the 4. This is straight up, second line marching band fundamentals. The song also demonstrates Palmer's instinctive tugboat mentality, playing with the song's needs in mind. While the Little Richard and Lloyd Price songs required him to push the beat, "Tipitina" needed the drummer to lay back and join the parade.

As a bonus, I found this video footage of Palmer leading a mid-'90s band through "Tipitina." It begins with him explaining the rhythm and his role on the original recording. Earl is joined by famed New Orleanians Allen Touissant on piano and the late "Red" Tyler on saxophone. Please note how Palmer subtly slows the beat when Tyler joins the chorus. While he undoubtedly could've gone faster, Palmer knew that his first job was to support the lead voice. Pure tugboat.



Ritchie Valens - La Bamba - 1958

By the time this song was recorded, Palmer had left the cozy confines of New Orleans for Los Angeles session work. Ritchie Valens' signature tune, "La Bamba," was probably an early challenge for Palmer in LA since it was undoubtedly one of his first encounters with Mexican music. Nevertheless, Palmer is the consummate sideman, effortlessly laying down the beat and embracing Latino flourishes (a woodblock ostinato and conga fills) without being too busy. Totally pro.

Sam Cooke - Rome Wasn't Built In A Day - 1962

Sam Cooke - Shake - 1964

Like I wasn't gonna come back to Sam Cooke. Please. "Rome" has to be one of the most underrated tunes in the Cooke catalog. Sam's smooth croon is, as usual, in top form and the horn charts anticipate much of the work at Stax. But what makes this song move are Palmer's marching band trills, like snare giddyups, throughout the song and the syncopation between his snare and bass drum. Together, they give the tune a unique rhythmic tension, elevating it from generic pop to a soulful R&B/pop fusion.

"Shake" differs markedly from "Rome," let alone so many previous Sam Cooke songs, in its total absence of melody. In that respect, it anticipates much of James Brown's coming music ... if not soul music, in general ... which was driven by rhythm, often disregarding melody entirely. However, Palmer's back beat and fills are the foundation upon which Sam, the horn section, and the rest of the rhythm section spreads out. Also, I do want to say that while "Shake" may have been perfected by Otis Redding (with the great Al Jackson on drums, no less), let's not forget that Sam died before he could answer Otis' gutbucket rendition with his own Harlem Square-esque ministrations. Just sayin.

Lalo Schifrin - Mission: Impossible TV Theme - 1966

Bet you didn't see this one coming. Sho nuff, that's Earl Palmer keeping 5/4 time on Lalo Schifrin's immediately recognizable theme song. Subtle, jazzy, hip ... yep, Earl's involved.

Randy Newman - Sail Away [early version] - 1972

"This was the way I first had the song. Maybe it's better. Milt Holland, Jim Keltner, and Earl Palmer did a great job."
--Randy Newman, from the liner notes to the Sail Away reissue

This version of Randy Newman's ode to the slave ship is remarkable for 2 reasons: 1) No orchestra, which is so familiar to longtime fans, and 2) You can practically hear "Louisiana 1927" clawing its way out, especially with Earl Palmer's marching band drum rolls underneath Newman's piano like a clarion call from Rampart Street. While the released version on Sail Away is a classic for a good reason, this demo is a revelation. And you gotta love the :20 outro, with the polyrhythmic drums probably meant to invoke the chaos of the auction block as the bells eerily stand in for slave chains. Subtle, but powerful.

Tom Waits - Whistlin' Past The Graveyard - 1978

In retrospect, Tom Waits working with Earl Palmer is a no-brainer. If you're gonna write R&B-influenced jazz songs, why wouldn't you want Earl Palmer in your band? However, this session is also noteworthy because it featured an important studio reunion. Years earlier, Palmer had worked with Waits' producer, Bones Howe, when a much younger Howe engineered Sam Cooke's "Rome Wasn't Built In A Day." In fact, the piano player on "Whistlin'" is Harold Battiste, who worked with Palmer and Howe on Sam's legendary "A Change Is Gonna Come" session. Meanwhile, the tenor saxophonist here is Herbert Hardesty, who worked alongside Palmer in Dave Bartholomew's studio band on those Little Richard and Fats Domino hits from the '50s. The lesson here is that if you stick around long enough, your worlds will collide.

Elvis Costello - Poisoned Rose - 1986

"It was the rhythm section that was daunting. On drums: Earl Palmer who, among many other things, had starred on most of the great Little Richard sides. On bass: Ray Brown, whose jazz recording credits could, and probably do, fill a book."
--Elvis Costello, from the liner notes to the King Of America Rhino reissue

My final Palmer number comes from Elvis Costello's great 1986 album, King Of America. Elvis' voice has rarely sounded better than it does on this song, his vocal prowess no doubt driven by the fact that Ray Brown and Earl Palmer were on hand, forcing him to bring his 'A' game. However, as good as Elvis sounds, Brown and Palmer make this song, their push-pull tension, subtle accents and fills, and tasteful understatement transforming a very good song into something damn near transcendent.

And so concludes our Sideman Spotlight on Earl Palmer. While the rest of the world heaps plaudits on showoffs and ballhogs, I wanted to give a little pub to one of American music's great tugboats. Palmer fashioned a 60-year Hall of Fame career out of being the consummate role player, bringing his best to each song, and in so doing being one of the unspoken pioneers of R&B and rock 'n' roll.

If you'd like to investigate further (and in much greater detail) you should check out his book, Backbeat: Earl Palmer's Story. To hear more of his recorded work, you may wanna spring for The World's Greatest Drummer, Ever!, a collection put out by the British Ace label. This is where I got the Little Richard and Lloyd Price tracks, so if you enjoyed those, keep in mind that there's 28 other songs, all I believe from his 1950s heyday.

Anatomy Of A Classic: Bring It On Home To Me

Sam Cooke is my favorite singer and has been since I was 13-14 years old. While most of my friends were obsessing over U2 and Depeche Mode concert tickets, I was obsessing over Sam Cooke records. While time has mostly vindicated me, even I have to laugh that while I liked The Joshua Tree well enough, given my druthers I would've rather listened to Sam sing, "They Call The Wind Maria." Yeah, I was a blast at keggers.

The one song that stood up and harpooned me in the vital organs was his 1962 hit, "Bring It On Home To Me," the subject of today's analysis. While I wouldn't say it's his greatest song ... "A Change Is Gonna Come" probably deserves that honor ... it's the perfect synthesis of his gospel background and pop aspirations. I was actually a bit shocked to read in Peter Guralnick's bio, Dream Boogie: The Triumph Of Sam Cooke, that "Bring It On Home To Me" was based on an earlier composition. In 1959, Charles Brown and Amos Milburn, a pair of blues pianists whose commercial peak was the late '40s/early '50s, duetted on "I Want To Go Home," a song that Sam heard Brown sing in Newport, Kentucky shortly after its release. (For more info on this track and a great summation of Brown's career, check out The B-side: A Celebration Of The Other Side, a great blog devoted to obscure, mostly-R&B 45s).

Charles Brown & Amos Milburn - I Want To Go Home [mp3]

Listening to the Brown/Milburn duet, one is struck by the obvious lineage. But, comparing the tracks is instructive in that it also reveals Sam's genius for reinvention. Where "I Want To Go Home" is a good, bluesy chunk of coal, Sam refashions it into an unforgettable diamond, a monster of a song, and one worthy of further exploration.

Note: For analytical purposes, I've split "Bring It On Home To Me" into five parts, one for each of its verses. While you'll basically hear the song in its entirety by clicking on the first "play" button and letting the queued segments play through, you may want to listen to the segments individually. I've also taken the liberty of adding the complete song at the end of this post. Folks, you simply can't buy this kind of customer service.

Bring It On Home To Me - Intro/Verse #1 [mp3]

The song opens with some gospel-flavored piano, as strings and bass subtly linger in the background, and double-time drums push the beat forward. Having listened to this song approximately 500,000 times, I am assured of one thing. The drums are this song's secret weapon. Keep this in mind as we go along.

If you ever change your mind
About leaving, leaving me behind
Baby, bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin'
Bring it on home to me, yeah (yeah!)

While the drums are the secret weapon, the obvious reason for this tune's classic status is Sam Cooke and Lou Rawls (pictured left). I defy anyone to come up with a better example of harmony singing in the history of recorded music. Look, I love The Boswell Sisters, The Louvin Brothers, Sam & Dave, and Statler & Waldorf as much as the next guy, but they're shooting for the silver medal, if you know what I mean. Sam's raspy tenor has few equals on the best of days, but riding atop Lou's honey baritone? Fuggedaboutit. And when they kick in with the call-and-response "Yeah!" parts? That's not just great, that's lucky to be a member of the human race great.

Bring It On Home To Me - Verse #2 [mp3]

I know I laughed when you left
But now I know I only hurt myself
Baby, bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin'
Bring it on home to me, yeah (yeah!)

Where the strings were unobtrusive (if not nearly inaudible) in the first verse, they now make their presence known in earnest. Swelling violins jump out at the "I know I laughed" line, giving the song a nice build and some harmonic depth. However, it's the drums that push things along, swinging hard into the third verse with triplets on the snare and giddyups on the ride cymbal. It's a drum sound that recalls the parade syncopations of Earl Palmer, veteran of several Sam Cooke sessions, as well as so many seminal New Orleans R&B records. It wouldn't surprise me a bit if it was actually Earl manning the kit here. In a way, it would be à propos. Earl Palmer spent his entire career in the role of secret weapon, so the fact that he might be directing traffic undercover is perfect.

Bring It On Home To Me - Verse #3 [mp3]

I'll give you jewelry and money, too
That ain't all, that ain't all I'd do for you
Baby if you bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin'
Bring it on home to me, yeah (yeah!)

The violins go from background swell to lead role in this verse, essentially replacing the piano in that capacity. With the strings up top, the bass down low, and the drums in the pocket, the piano deftly fills holes in the arrangement.

Bring It On Home To Me - Verse #4 [mp3]

You know I'll always be your slave
'Til I'm buried, buried in my grave
Oh honey, bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin'
Bring it on home to me, yeah (yeah!)

Once again, the bottom shifts subtly as the drums go into a double-time pattern on the ride and what sounds like a half-time pattern on the snare. That rhythmic change is accompanied by the introduction of a saxophone, the horn taking over as the band's lead voice. In just over two minutes and four verses, the song has masterfully, yet almost imperceptibly, undulated rhythmically while slowly building to its harmonic climax. Rene Hall may be the arranger of record, and he no doubt conducted the orchestra, but the gospel arrangement has Sam's fingerprints all over it, showcasing his growing command of the studio. Orchestrated gospel was the sound of the future and while it was being refined at Motown and Stax, it also pointed ahead to the work of Willie Mitchell and Al Green, in some ways the real successors of the Sam Cooke legacy.

While I haven't addressed the lyrics to this point ... mainly because it's a pretty straightforward lost love song ... this verse has always intrigued me. How many black singers in 1962 would've sung about being a slave, even metaphorically? Sure, it could've been a simple, convenient analogy, but what if it wasn't? Remember, we're smack dab in the middle of an increasingly militant civil rights era, Sam is a year removed from refusing to play a segregated Memphis show, and a year away from hearing Dylan's "Blowin' In The Wind," and later covering it. And of course, "A Change Is Gonna Come" looms on the horizon. Sam's own background as a gospel singer adds another level of intrigue. Gospel songs, like the spirituals before them, were filled with hidden messages. Codes, if you will. The fact that this was one of Sam's first "pop" songs to openly embrace his gospel roots was probably more coincidental than meta-commentary, but could the use of "slave" have been a code from Sam to his black audience? Mere speculation, no doubt, but not without historical precedent and perfectly in temper with the times.

The lyrics in this verse also provide a sobering reality check, with their reference to being "buried in my grave." Sam (and his fans) obviously couldn't have known at the time, but in less than three years, he would indeed be buried in his grave. As great as this song is on neutral turf, the tragic events surrounding his murder have only given it a sense of gravity above and beyond the initial construction.

Bring It On Home To Me - Verse #5/Outro [mp3]

One more thing (?), you know I tried to treat you right
But you stayed out, stayed out late at night
But I forgive you, bring it to me, bring your sweet lovin'
Bring it on home to me, yeah (yeah!)

We enter the song's home stretch with the drums again propelling the beat forward, the violins mirroring their lead part from Verse #3, and the piano filling in gaps as it echoes the snare. The sax reintroduces itself on the fade-out, which is probably the only disappointing thing about this track. It ends a bit too soon. Another 20-30 seconds, with the sax going off in the manner of Sam's buddy, King "Soul Twist" Curtis (pictured above on the Harlem Square cover), would've been badass. And by badass, I mean orgasmic.

Two things are worth mentioning here: 1) This was the singles/AM radio era, so it's not like anyone else was including extended outros on their studio output, and 2) The release of the Harlem Square Club show proved that Sam knew perfectly well how to extend his songs so as to bring his audience to orgasm. So, maybe there is something to be said for leaving us wanting more. Forget what I said about disappointing. I don't know what I was thinking.

Parting Thoughts

Everybody knows that Sam Cooke is one of the greatest singers of all-time. But this track proves that his skills as a producer and arranger ... at least co-arranger ... have, if anything, been historically undervalued. "Bring It On Home To Me" also marked a major turning point in both Sam's career and the direction of black music. Where songs like "Twistin' The Night Away" and "Having A Party" hinted at the gospel fervor, "Bring It" wholeheartedly embraced it. In a sense then, the title works on two levels. While superficially a plea to his departed woman, it could also be read as Sam himself bringing it home. Artists like Ray Charles, Bo Diddley, Little Richard, and James Brown had been bringing the black church into popular music for nearly a decade, but none of them had the gospel bona fides of Sam Cooke. All of them, including Sam, had crossed over from black audiences to white, but only Sam made the crossover from gospel star to pop star, having gained his initial fame as a member of The Soul Stirrers (pictured above). And with the release of "Bring It On Home To Me" he was creating the gospel/pop synthesis known as soul music, becoming the first major star in that genre. The irony, of course, is that it took Sam looking deep into his past to articulate his vision for the future. While he didn't necessarily abandon his white audience, he trusted his instincts that his white audience wouldn't abandon him were he to make his sound "blacker." As the next chapter of his career unfolded, it was clear that his instincts were correct.

And so concludes Anatomy Of A Classic. Now that we've thoroughly examined its constituent elements, let's listen to today's spotlight song in all its unfettered glory. From April 1962, here's Sam Cooke and Lou Rawls bringing soul music to the masses. Enjoy.

Sam Cooke - Bring It On Home To Me [mp3]

Need Sam?

For those of you new to Sam Cooke, may I recommend Portait Of A Legend: 1951-64. I was lucky enough to turn onto Sam just as The Man And His Music was released, but I think this remastered collection might be superior ... it helps that it's actually in print ... and will serve much the same purpose for a new generation of fans.

Saturday Morning Cartoon

"There's a ringing in my ears that's heaven sent,
There's a beast out on the ruins,
Some broken down lover's lament,
It goes on and on, but it won't go away."

Yesterday's post may have featured Soul Asylum, Slobberbone, and a discussion of the greatest rock 'n' roll songs of all-time, but one song was conspicuous in its absence. Dan Murphy of Soul Asylum wrote "Cartoon" for their 1988 Hang Time album and it's unquestionably one of the most sweeping anthems of its era. It deserves its own post so we can showcase its greatness.

I've included both the original version and Slobberbone's cover from one of their final shows. It was recorded at The 400 Bar in Soul Asylum's hometown of Minneapolis, which should explain why Brent says during the intro, "Here's a song we have no business playing in this town."

Soul Asylum - Cartoon [mp3]
[purchase CD] [purchase LP]

Slobberbone - Cartoon [mp3]

Incidentally, A&M actually made a video for "Cartoon" in glorious '80s pastel-o-vision. A bit dated, but the live shots give you a feel (kinda sorta) of the band at its peak. Enjoy.

Six Degrees: Headed For The Ditch

We begin this edition of Six Degrees in Miami Beach. Not the actual Miami Beach, mind you, but the Miami Beach of Neil Young's fevered imagination. In 1973, Neil was one year removed from the career-defining behemoth that was Harvest and its feel-good granola anthem, "Heart Of Gold." Problem was, Neil wasn't in a particularly "feel good" frame of mind and sure as hell didn't want his career defined by granola anthems. Reeling with guilt from the November 1972 heroin overdose of his guitarist and friend, Danny Whitten, Neil embarked on what would become the "Time Fades Away" tour. Enter heroic amounts of tequila, self-loathing, and moody, mercurial rock 'n' roll. On stage, he drunkenly passed himself off as the MC of a sleazy Miami Beach nightclub and led his band, The Stray Gators, through a wobbly series of setlists. Audiences expecting the lilting melodies of "Heart Of Gold" and "Old Man" were rudely met with grinding volume and utter chaos, as if the roadies left the "fuck you" knob stuck on 11. In short, the tour was a disaster and Neil spent the better part of the next 3 years in a dark place, battling his demons with music.

"This song ('Heart Of Gold') put me in the middle of the road. Traveling there soon became a bore, so I headed for the ditch. A rougher ride, but I saw more interesting people there."
--Neil Young, in the Decade liner notes

It was in this dark place that Neil Young would, perhaps inadvertently, produce one of the rock era's most important templates for future bands. In a move that paralleled (and in my mind was a more courageous version of) Dylan's leap from folkie troubadour to rock Judas, Young "headed for the ditch." He turned his crippling self-doubt and mainstream apathy into its own muse, producing a trilogy of albums that stand with any in the history of rock: Time Fades Away (1973), On The Beach (1974), and Tonight's The Night (1975). Admittedly, these are fairly sloppy affairs, all but devoid of hit single material, and in the case of Time Fades Away and Tonight's The Night, boozy snapshots of the drug culture that helped inspire this artistic phase. However, past the slop, the bum notes, and the struggles with pitch are documents of searing beauty. These albums reward the listener like few others with brutal fucking honesty and music both visceral and full of meaning. Some would say that despite their flaws these albums have stood the test of time. I disagree. I think it's precisely because of their flaws that the Ditch Trilogy has not only survived, but prospered.

Today, Six Degrees is paying tribute to the ditch, where Neil has returned periodically throughout his career. By the late '80s, the combustible temperament at the heart of Neil's best work finally bore fruit in the best rock music of a new era. In retrospect, this shouldn't be surprising. Bands like Thelonious Monster and Soul Asylum embraced Neil's ditch digging because like his work in the mid '70s, they too were producing brilliant work away from the middle of the road. Nevertheless, their example ... as well as Neil's continuing example ... has wielded a minor, but necessary influence on the direction of rock ever since.

Neil Young - Come On Baby Let's Go Downtown [mp3]
[purchase CD] [purchase LP]

The first song in today's lineup actually predates the Ditch Trilogy by a few years. Tonight's The Night, the album on which "Come On Baby" appears, was released in 1975, mostly recorded in 1973, and this particular track recorded live at the Fillmore East in March 1970. But, this is also the point. Tonight's The Night is Neil coming to terms with the death of Danny Whitten (pictured above) and the drug culture which helped kill him. This song is a reminder of when "old times were good times," when Crazy Horse had come into its own, Whitten (who sings lead on this one) sounded strong, and the future was seemingly rife with optimism. Nevertheless, an eerie kind of prescience hangs over one verse:

"Sure enough, they'll be sellin' stuff,
When the moon begins to rise,
Pretty bad when you're dealin' with the man,
And the light shines in your eyes."

In two years, it would all be over.

Thelonious Monster - Swan Song [mp3]

"It don't care just where you come from,
And it don't care if you're rich or you're poor,
No, it don't care about your religion,
No, it don't care about you at all."

Thelonious is here for two reasons: 1) Like many of the songs on Tonight's The Night, "Swan Song" is about drug addiction, specifically heroin, and 2) It was Bob Forrest (pictured right), lead singer of the Monster, who turned me onto Tonight's The Night many years ago. In the spring of 1992, while opening for the über-twee Darling Buds in Palo Alto ... talk about an all-time double-bill mismatch ... Thelonious careened through an amazing version of "Mellow My Mind." When I asked him about the tune after the show, Bob told me it was from Tonight's The Night and that if I didn't own the album within 24 hours I was an idiot. Not one to shirk my duties, I bought the album the next day, and discovered that I was an idiot anyway for not previously owning it. I like to think that I've since made up for it.

"Swan Song" was actually written for Anthony Kiedis of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, the titular "Swan." If I'm not mistaken, at the time this song was written, Kiedis and Forrest were roommates in Hollywood and Bob saw what heroin was doing to his friend. Sadly, about a year after this song was released, original Chili Peppers guitarist, Hillel Slovak, would die of a speedball overdose. Drugs are bad, mmmmkay?

Soul Asylum - Easy Street [mp3]
[purchase CD]

Soul Asylum - Barstool Blues [mp3]

The first time I saw Soul Asylum was in November 1990 at the Country Club in Reseda, CA, with Thelonious Monster opening. Despite the fact that I drove 9 hours to see the show, mostly for Thelonious, and was dog-tired by the time Soul Asylum came on, they completely blew me away. There was no stage show to speak of, the band didn't have any sort of "look" (other than jeans and T-shirts), and while they didn't sound like Neil Young verbatim, you could certainly hear that he was one of the elements in the Soul Asylum brew. And like Neil, their shows made up for the lack of stagecraft with two hours of stripped down, balls-to-the-wall rock, passion, and solid songwriting.

At the time, the band was touring behind And The Horse They Rode In On, a great album that went nowhere and brought the band to the edge of extinction. In fact, in 1991-92 Soul Asylum was effectively defunct and Dave Pirner and Dan Murphy were peddling songs as a duo. In '92, Columbia signed Soul Asylum for pennies on the dollar and released their next album, Grave Dancer's Union, with few expectations for success. And then a funny thing happened on the way to the cut-out bin. That damn milk carton video became a generational touchstone. Just like that, Soul Asylum's collective bacon was saved in the music industry equivalent of a hail mary pass.

It's been almost 20 years since that Country Club show and I, like many old-time fans, haven't really cared too much about Soul Asylum since they blew up. It's nothing personal and it's not some hipster aversion to money. I just don't think the songwriting has been as strong. But at their best, you have to believe me when I say that NO ONE could've followed them on stage. And it may be hard to believe now, but for awhile there Dave Pirner was one of the best frontmen in rock. A great singer, with an awesome scream, an underrated musician and songwriter, and just ridiculous amounts of stage presence.

Easy Street is one of my favorite cuts from And The Horse They Rode In On and was actually made into a video, albeit one decidedly less popular than "Runaway Train." As a bonus, I've also included Soul Asylum's cover of Neil's Zuma classic, "Barstool Blues," which you can find on the mostly disappointing compilation, The Bridge: A Tribute To Neil Young.

Uncle Joe's Big Ol' Driver - Possible Driving Song [mp3]
[purchase CD]

Uncle Joe's is one of the great what-might-have-beens. Formed in San Diego in the early '90s, the band relocated to Seattle in 1994, where I was living at the time. UJBOD was probably the first band I heard that sounded like they were directly influenced by Soul Asylum. For what it's worth, critics generally mentioned The Replacements when discussing the band, and not totally without cause, but also because name-dropping The Mats has always been a critical badge of honor. Soul Asylum? Eh, not so much. Nevertheless, the two guitars on fire and heads wired on '70s rock was straight outta the Pirner/Murphy playbook and I think "Possible Driving Song" is the best showcase of UJBOD's power this side of a live show. As a matter of fact, I think it would've fit in perfectly on Hang Time, preferably in lieu of that lame "Marionette" song.

Sadly, the UJBOD story ended before it really had a chance to begin. The group disbanded in 1995, shortly after the release of its second album, Chick Rock, because singer/guitarist, Dave Jass, couldn't shake his drug habit. Just a fucking waste. All these years later, it still bums me out because the potential was huge. Like Soul Asylum, this was a band that no one could follow on stage, and I say that as someone who saw about 20 different bands try and fail. While their songwriting hadn't yet reached the Pirner/Murphy maturation point, I do believe it could've come close. Too bad we never had a chance to find out.

Slobberbone - Gimme Back My Dog [mp3]
[purchase CD]

Slobberbone - Hey Hey, My My [mp3]

OK, so Slobberbone wasn't the best name for a band. Noted. But from 1998-2002, few bands brought more quality rock 'n' roll to the table while putting as many miles on the company van. Led by singer/songwriter/guitarist, Brent Best (pictured left, in the Gourds T-shirt), Slobberbone combined the musical acumen of Soul Asylum and Neil Young to deliver tales of loss, drinking, regret, alcohol, relationships gone bad, and liquor. There may have also been a couple songs about getting drunk. It was like Best was writing first-rate country songs for your favorite bar band. But alas, after tens of thousands of miles and barely a dent in the public consciousness, the band hit the wall. They called it quits in 2005, but not before leaving us with one of the 4-5 best albums of this decade, Everything You Thought Was Right Was Wrong Today.

"Gimme Back My Dog" is not only one of the best songs on EYTWRWWT, but has the double distinction of being the only song on this list personally endorsed by Stephen King. Actually, endorsed is understating it. In a July 2003 column for Entertainment Weekly, King actually called it one of the three greatest rock 'n' roll songs of all time. What's scary is that the master of horror may be right. For added pleasure, I've added Slobberbone's cover of "Hey Hey, My My," one of 37 Neil Young songs covered during the band's career. Maybe this recording doesn't quite convey it, but I was at this show and can say in all honesty that it was one of the greatest, most intense shows I've ever attended. See the picture above, how drummer Tony Harper is hurdling over his kit like Ninja Lee Roth? That's what the whole audience was doing. RIP Slobberbone.

Grand Champeen - Broken Records [mp3]
[purchase CD]

Grand Champeen - Easy Street [mp3]
Grand Champeen - Mellow My Mind [mp3]

"I know it's only rock 'n' roll,
Lyin' to your heart again,
100 million records sold,
How'd you get so sick of them?

I featured Grand Champeen in the previous edition of Six Degrees, so I was a little reluctant to repeat myself. However, if Neil Young, Soul Asylum, and Slobberbone are in the discussion, omitting Champeen isn't an option. Where Slobberbone drew inspiration from Neil Young and Soul Asylum, Champeen drew inspiration from Neil Young, Soul Asylum, and Slobberbone. In fact, the first time I saw (let alone heard) the Champeens, it was opening for Slobberbone here in Austin. Not only was I fan after the first song, it sounded like the band was frankensteined from my record collection. Seriously, not only were the 3 aforementioned bands audibly represented, but as I mentioned last time in Six Degrees, I also heard Superchunk, The Replacements, and Austin's own Prescott Curlywolf ... who you probably haven't heard of, but who will be featured here soon enough. When the band closed their set with Thin Lizzy's "Cowboy Song," I applied right then for my fan club membership.

If "Gimme Back My Dog" is one of the three greatest rock 'n' roll songs of all time, "Broken Records" is top 10 easy. Not only is the litany of albums practically a mission statement ... Let It Be, Let It Bleed, On The Beach, The Gilded Palace Of Sin, Heaven Tonight, and The Kids Are Alright (Kids homage pictured above) ... but I defy you to crack open a beer, turn the song up loud, and not break furniture. Seriously, the push-pull tension, the slow build, that sense of dynamics ... lesser bands would KILL to be able to do that. And some have. Yes, I'm looking at you, Coldplay. Anyway, given the möbius strip nature of Six Degrees, I've added a couple Champeen bonus cuts to bring us back home. Their cover of "Easy Street" was actually performed as part of a Soul Asylum tribute in 2006. I wish the sound was a little better, but that's what the volume knob is for. Finally, their cover of "Mellow My Mind" was not only done at my request, that version is actually from my wedding, which they were kind enough to play.

PARTING THOUGHTS

If Neil Young has taught us anything, it's that rock 'n' roll should always have room for bands who are rooted in the basics, look like average dudes and not fashion models, and aren't afraid to pursue an organic, throwback sound instead of conceding to the whims of the mainstream. Every band I've showcased here today has done their best to fly the flannel, as it were, but they can only do so much. I like to think that somewhere out there is a teenage kid about to hear Tonight's The Night for the first time and that kid is gonna start our new favorite band. Hey, it's not totally out of the realm of possibility, is it?

Medleying With Bo ... RIP George Carlin

Congratulations to Stephen Heiden of Houston, Texas, for winning the "Medleying With Bo" contest. To review, I created a medley of 30 songs featuring the Bo Diddley Beat and assorted Bo covers. I asked y'all to send in submissions naming both artist and song, with a half-point for each correct answer. At stake was a zip file containing all 12 discs of The Chess Years box set and Mr. Heiden won with an impressive 18 point total. Thanks to everybody for their entries and, as promised, here's a link to the medley and the actual list of tunes.

Medleying With Bo: A Bo Diddley Bouillabaise [mp3]

01. Buddy Holly - Not Fade Away
02. Rolling Stones - Not Fade Away
03. Supremes - Not Fade Away
04. Tanya Tucker - Not Fade Away
05. Crowded House - Not Fade Away
06. Grateful Dead - Not Fade Away
07. Stooges - 1969
08. U2 - Desire
09. Bow Wow Wow - I Want Candy
10. Strangeloves - I Want Candy
11. The Who - Magic Bus
12. Guns 'N Roses - Mr. Brownstone
13. George Thorogood & The Destroyers - Bad To The Bone
14. David Bowie - Panic In Detroit
15. Lone Justice - East Of Eden
16. Animals - Story Of Bo Diddley
17. Rolling Stones - Crackin' Up
18. Beatles - Crackin' Up
19. Mark Arm - My Life With Rickets
20. Bruce Springsteen - She's The One
21. Ronnie Hawkins & The Hawks - Who Do You Love?
22. George Thorogood & The Destroyers - Who Do You Love?
23. Yardbirds - Who Do You Love?
24. Ronnie Hawkins (w/Duane Allman) - Who Do You Love?
25. Townes Van Zandt - Who Do You Love?
26. Shadows - Bo Diddley
27. Art Neville [The Meters] - Hey! Bo Diddley
28. Bob Seger & Silver Bullet Band - Bo Diddley
29. Astronauts - Bo Diddley
30. Buddy Holly - Bo Diddley

NEXT TIME: THE RETURN OF SIX DEGREES

I'll return in a couple days with another edition of Six Degrees, this time focusing in on a couple of my favorite bands from the late '80s and early '90s: Thelonious Monster and Soul Asylum. If you'll recall, The Adios Lounge is actually named after a Thelonious Monster song. Will the namesake tune be one of the six songs featured? Hmmm ... guess you'll have to check back and see, won't you?

RIP GEORGE CARLIN

Finally, the Lounge was saddened to hear this morning that stand-up comedy pioneer, George Carlin, passed away last night due to heart failure. He was 71. Let it be known that were it not for his albums Class Clown and On The Road ... not to mention innumerable late night appearances and cable TV specials ... I would not be blessed with the sick humor I have today. In honor of Mr. Carlin's enormous cultural impact, I think it's entirely appropriate that Americans of all races, ages, and backgrounds honor his legacy by pointedly uttering the Seven Dirty Words, preferably in business meetings and public places. If someone protests, simply explain, "Eat shit, cocksucker. Carlin died last night." Mourning through comedy. It's what George would've wanted. And for all the impressionable kids out there wondering what the fuss is about, put down those Jonas Brothers purity rings, and huddle around the computer screen for today's lesson in high comedy.

Mah Na Mah Na

After 3 straight gigantasaurus uber-posts, my brain needs to be coaxed back into regular activity. Therefore, I'm keeping this one short and sweet. I will warn you, though. This sucker is an earworm. You may find yourself humming it all day if you're not careful. And if you let your kids hear it ... fuggedaboutit.



Here's the acoustic hipster version, courtesy of Austin's own Asylum Street Spankers. Lots of cool references in this one, how many can you name?



Speaking of naming references, don't forget to send in your submissions for the "Medleying With Bo" contest. Deadline is Sunday at noon.

The Bo Diddley Legacy - Part 2 of 2

Apologies for not posting this sooner. My two-year-old daughter went into daycare two weeks ago and apparently the first lesson they teach the youngins is how to turn into a human petri dish. Ye gods. From Sunday evening through Friday morning I had trouble forming coherent sentences. Damn punk kids, stay outta my immune system!

Anyway, in Part 1 I discussed the origins of Bo Diddley, placing him on the sanctified church > R&B > rock 'n' roll continuum. For Part 2, I want to focus on his influence, but in a very specific fashion. Hell, I could write about Bo for a month and not exhaust angles. Of course, if I did that my brain would explode and no one wants that, least of all me. So, I'm limiting my focus to the 1960s, when Bo's chart presence began to diminish, but he still served as a primary influence to many of the decade's most significant artists. Some you'd expect. Others ... we'll see.

SURF'S UP!

Maybe it's because my hometown is Huntington Beach, CA ... aka Surf City ... but I'm beginning today's post with surf music. SURF MUSIC?!?! That is correct. As it happens, one of the most ill-conceived albums in the Bo Diddley catalog is 1963's, Surfin' With Bo Diddley. For one thing, he only played on 4 of 12 cuts and yet it was still advertised as a Bo Diddley album. For another ... well, it's just not very good. But, I don't think it failed because the concept was bad, I think it failed because the principals involved, including Bo, confused the image of surf culture with the reality of surf music. I admit, Bo Diddley juxtaposed against Gidget sounds borderline ridiculous. However, if you just pay attention to the music you'll find common ground.

Think about it. The distinctive sound of surf music ... from its very beginnings in the late '50s and early '60s ... are rolling, tom-heavy drums and reverby, pick-sliding guitars. You think Bo Diddley may have those elements in a few of his songs? Now, I'm not suggesting that Bo invented surf music, but I am suggesting he was an influence, and if we're addressing his legacy, THAT'S part of the legacy. To wit:

FACT: Dick Dale's sets from day one have been peppered with Bo Diddley songs.

FACT: In 1962, Dick Dale released the first surf album, Surfer's Choice. On that album is the song "Surfing Drums" ... originally titled "Jungle Fever" and later titled "Tribal Thunder" ... and it's pretty clearly based on Bo's "Hush Your Mouth." Let's put those two songs back-to-back and take a listen. And since we're at the beach, I've included the one redeeming track from Surfin' With Bo Diddley, "Surf, Sink Or Swim." I could be wrong, but I think that's longtime Chess session man, Gene Barge, on tenor sax.

Bo Diddley - Hush Your Mouth - 1958 [mp3]

Dick Dale - Surfing Drums - 1962 [mp3]

Bo Diddley - Surf, Sink Or Swim - 1963 [mp3]

FROM SURFERS TO MODS

I don't know if it's a little-known fact, but some people might be surprised to hear that Keith Moon was a surf music fanatic. Of course, anyone who's heard The Who covering "Barbara Ann" or the four-part vocal harmony at the beginning of "A Quick One While He's Away" will make The Beach Boys connection. But, that's only surf music to a degree. What I'm talking about is the real deal stuff, like The Chantays, Ventures, and Surfaris, those instrumental bands who were the backbone of surf music.

I bring this up here because one of The Who's most visionary early tracks was "The Ox," an instrumental from their 1965 My Generation LP, that was loosely based on The Surfari's 1963 single, "Waikiki Run." I say "loosely" because while it sorta begins as a surf number, Townshend takes the song to war. His guitar ... along with the bass-swoops of John Entwhistle, the titular "Ox" ... explodes with a menacing, apocalpytic quality that presages Jeff Beck's work on Roger The Engineer and the arrival in London of Jimi Hendrix. However, if you actually listen to "Waikiki Run," the thing that jumps out at you is Moonie's relatively faithful homage to Ron Wilson's frenetic drum pattern. Keith Moon is one of rock's great drummers, no doubt, but like I said about Bo in Part 1, he didn't come from nowhere. If anything, "The Ox" is a reminder that surf music probably has a number of Ron Wilsons, barely remembered musicians who were primary influences to numerous better-known musicians.

Still, how do we get from the innocent charm of "Waikiki Run" to the incendiary menace of "The Ox?" I think a pair of Bo Diddley songs point the way. Over the course of his long career, Bo recorded a number of instrumentals in which his guitar work ... generally percussive, driving, and effects-laden ... was framed by a dense bed of polyrhythms. "Bo's Guitar," recorded in 1958-59, was one of his first and a quasi-template for "The Ox." The drumming on "Bo's" isn't nearly as frenzied, but in tandem with Jerome Green's maracas, it pushes the beat with nearly equal force. The piano in each song also performs a nearly identical role. I'm not sure if "Bo's" features Otis Spann or Lafayette Leake ... both men were Chess session musicians during this period ... but their tinkling, trebly runs are echoed by Who session man, Nicky Hopkins (actually, a formal co-writer of "The Ox"). And while Townshend's individual brilliance took electric guitar playing to another level in the 1960s, you can hear that brilliance presaged in its own right throughout "Bo's" (especially in the hiccups, stabs, and divebombs from 1:20-1:41). Clearly, "Bo's Guitar" is a more casual performance ... which is to say, that unlike "The Ox," you don't feel the need to strap guns to your body and fight the invading hordes ...but I think it's reasonable to say that Diddley's percussive attack on the guitar anticipates some of Townshend's own breakthroughs on the instrument. This assertion is punctuated by a live version of "Road Runner" from 1963. Recorded in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, for the all-but-forgotten Bo Diddley's Beach Party LP ... OK, the title is lame, I'll grant you that, but fans should track this mama down, it's badass ... the song manages to be both an amiable crowd-pleaser and a devastating deconstruction of electric guitar, with some of the most vicious pick-slides you're ever gonna hear. As a change of pace, I wanna start with The Who and then follow-up with the Bo tracks, so we can hopefully see what was coming by working our way backwards.

The Who - The Ox - 1965 [mp3]

Bo Diddley - Bo's Guitar - 1958/59 [mp3]

Bo Diddley - Road Runner [Live] - 1963 [mp3]

RAVE-UPS, JAMS, AND WHITE LIGHT/WHITE HEAT

"I was out to destroy the audience. I wanted to destroy 'em, just make the toughest dude in the crowd pat his foot. I'd find a groove to get 'em by watching feet, and once I got one guy moving, I'd start working on the dude sitting next to him."
--Bo Diddley

"Road Runner" hints at what rock music would become and not just the feedback-rich sonic assault so prevalent among guitarists in the mid-to-late '60s. That Myrtle Beach performance is also noteworthy because unlike virtually all of Bo's early rock 'n' roll contemporaries, Diddley shows weren't about traditional songwriting prowess and melodious hit singles, they were about locking into a groove, hypnotizing the audience, and taking them to church. I'd say that only James Brown was as successful working a variation of this theme simultaneous to Bo, but I'd also argue that it wasn't until the release of "Cold Sweat" in 1967 that JB wholly embraced this primitive aesthetic with the creation of funk.

But Bo was there first. His performances, like his records, were introducing a new generation of kids to the musical values of the sanctified church. Little did he know that in the hands of The Yardbirds circa 1965-66, low-end theory would evolve into 15-20 minute rave-ups that in turn influenced countless British bands of the era into extending (and experimenting with) their own songs. Sadly, no footage ... to my knowledge ... exists of these mythic jams and are only hinted at on albums like Five Live Yardbirds and Having A Rave-Up. But it is absolutely crucial to understand that these jams were not excuses for pointless, self-indulgent noodling. As Robert Palmer explains in Rock & Roll: An Unruly History, "The rave-up (was) an improvisational strategy that found the whole band accelerating tempos in tandem, building up to a dynamic peak, then bringing the music down to a hypnotic, slowly simmering riff that would sooner or later begin building toward an explosion again" (Palmer, 117). Unlike so many jams of the '60s and '70s ... if not now and forever ... the principal aesthetic was to turn the entire band into a rhythm machine, with each instrument, even in a "solo," playing a rhythmic support role.

We also see the rhythm machine philosophy at work in the catalogs of The Stooges and Velvet Underground. In the case of The Stooges, the superficial simplicity of the Bo Diddley sound was appealing because, quite frankly, they weren't good enough to act like they were accomplished musicians. To their credit, though, they made their technical limitations work for them by slowing down the Bo Diddley Beat, adding heroic amounts of aggression and dissonance, and in so doing, helped invent the wounded animal known as punk rock. As for VU, John Cale's viola gets an inordinate amount of critical and historical attention ... not undeservingly, mind you ... but his classical contributions wouldn't have meant nearly as much were his bandmates not, at heart, a lockdown R&B band. Unlike The Stooges, the Velvets could play, and not just the atonal, avant-rock material upon which much of their reputation rests ... again, not undeservingly. In fact, few musicians, before or since, have better articulated the deceptively simple Bo Diddley sound than drummer, Moe Tucker. Like every drummer who has ever played under Diddley's command, Tucker emphasizes, to near exclusion, the floor tom and bass drum and keeps her "leads" to a bare minimum. The cymbal, if used at all, is barely tolerated. In a sense, the Diddley performance ethic of locking into the groove and destroying the audience sees its apotheosis in VU's 17-minute epic, "Sister Ray." With Tucker directing traffic, the band builds to a series of climaxes, ecstatically pushing forward in seeming chaos, driven by a primitive, trance-like pulse that abandons traditional song form altogether. The rhythm is all that matters and in that philosophical construct Bo Diddley and the Velvets are kin.

The following two Bo Diddley videos, in my opinion, perfectly embody his rhythm-at-all-costs philosophy. Ironically, the first one is exactly :54 long. But, in that brief amount of time you hear all the elements fall into place. No melody, no solos, just a collective riding of the riff all the way to Groove City.

Bo Diddley - Hollywood A Go-Go - 1965



This second video is appropriately titled. Bo is indeed in his prime, amazing, and yes, this is the best video I've seen of the dozens available. Where the previous clip is a mere teaser, this one fully locks into the groove and doesn't let go. It also demonstrates exactly what Bo was doing in the early '60s when no one was filming and handheld recording devices were inconveniently not invented yet. Watch Bo Diddley smack some white kids upside the head with the rock 'n' roll stick.

Bo Diddley - Excerpt from Let The Good Times Roll - 1973



THE BEAT, MEDLEYING WITH BO, AND A CONTEST FOR MO'

In the end, I have to admit that Bo Diddley's legacy is gonna be that beat. Despite his litany of innovations, the Bo Diddley Beat is gonna outlast all of them. However, I wanted to take you down some of the lesser-known highways, speedways, and subways in the Diddley Kingdom before bringing it all back home. But don't think you're gonna get a list of the same 5-6 songs featuring the Bo Diddley Beat. No sir. There's already plenty of places on the interwebs cataloging that information. Instead, I've paid tribute to Bo in my own unique way. I've created a medley of 30 songs, a combination of tunes featuring the Bo Diddley Beat and covers of Bo songs.

Medleying With Bo: A Bo Diddley Bouillabaise [mp3]

What I'd like my readers to do is see how many of these 30 artists and songs you can name. You get a half-point for the artist and a half-point for the song. Whoever gets the most points will win a special prize. I'll zip up for you ... or burn to a disc, if you'd like ... the complete 12-disc Bo Diddley Chess Years box set. Now, this was burned for me a few years ago, so there's no fancy liner notes, and the songs aren't ripped at 320 KB or anything, but it sounds just fine and IT'S 12 DISCS OF BO! FOR FREE! Anyway, send your lists to me at pantsfucious@gmail.com and include MEDLEYING WITH BO in the subject line. I'll accept submissions until next Sunday at noon my time ... that would be Central Standard Time in Austin, TX ... and I'll announce the winner later that evening. Good luck!

FURTHER RECOMMENDED READING

In researching this article I've come across a few stories ... and one website ... that merit special mention. The Dave Alvin and John Moore bits were personal memorials about Bo written after his death. Of all the tributes to the man, I thought these two were the most thoughtful, touching, and meaningful. Really good stuff. The Iggy piece was written in 2004 for a special edition of Rolling Stone, but it's definitely worth another look. Say what you will about the Igster, I think he understood the Bo Diddley sound ... and not just the beat. Finally, all Bo fans owe it to themselves to visit David Blakey's website, Bo Diddley - The Originator. Where I could only do a hit-and-run on the Diddley catalog, The Originator is an encyclopedia of Bo Diddley information, digging deep into all phases of the man's 50+ year career. All I can say is, I hope I did him proud.

The Night Bo Diddley Banned The Beat by Dave Alvin (Blasters, X, Knitters)

Bo Diddley Told Me To Quit Smoking by John Moore (Jesus & Mary Chain)

The Immortals - Bo Diddley by Iggy Pop (Stooges)

Bo Diddley - The Originator - The #1 Bo Diddley reference site

As always, I hope you enjoyed my tribute to the Bo Diddley legacy. Don't forget to get your contest submissions in ASAP. Remember ... the clock strikes twelve. Tick tock tick tock.