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 [purchase CD] [purchase LP]

Slobberbone - Cartoon

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

Originally published June 27, 2008 -- 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. Still 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 brutally honest 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 through 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." There he turned his crippling self-doubt and apathy toward mainstream acceptance 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 their 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.

As Neil famously wrote of "Heart Of Gold" in the Decade liner notes, "This song 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." Today, Six Degrees is paying tribute to the ditch, where you'll still meet the most interesting people and hear the most interesting bands. Neil would return to the ditch periodically throughout the '70s and '80s, when the combustible temperament at the heart of Neil's best work would finally bear fruit in the music of a new era. 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.

Download 10-song playlist as zip file (65 MB)
Total Time = 35:27

Neil Young - Come On Baby Let's Go Downtown
[CD] [Vinyl] [MP3]

The first song in today's lineup actually predates the Ditch Trilogy by a few years. In fact, 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 and the drug culture which helped kill him. This song is a reminder of when "old times were good times" ("Lookout Joe"), when Crazy Horse found its groove, 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
[Next Saturday Afternoon/Stormy Weather two-fer CD]

"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, lead singer of the Monster (pictured right), who turned me onto Tonight's The Night many years ago. In the spring of 1992, while opening for the 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 the album. Thankfully, I've made up for it ever since. And many thanks to Bob for obvious reasons.

"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.

Soul Asylum - Easy Street
[CD] [MP3]

Soul Asylum - Barstool Blues
[CD]

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-y nonsense, the band didn't have any sort of "look" (other than jeans and T-shirts, that is), and while they never sounded like Neil Young verbatim, you could certainly hear that he was one of the elements to 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 is 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

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 cooler. 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. It sounds like it could'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 one of the members couldn't shake a drug habit. All these years later and it still bums me out. 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 found out.

Slobberbone - Gimme Back My Dog
[CD] [MP3]

Slobberbone - Hey Hey, My My
Dan's Bar, Denton, TX
July 7, 2001

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, Slobberbone combined the musical acumen of Soul Asylum and Neil Young to deliver tales of loss, drinking, regret, alcohol, relationships gone bad, and liquor. It was like Best wrote 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, a band can only take so much. The Bone called it quits in 2005, but not before leaving us with one of the 4-5 best albums of the 2000s, Everything You Thought Was Right Was Wrong Today. (FYI, since I originally published this piece in June 2008, Slobberbone has since reformed.)

"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 might 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.

Grand Champeen - Broken Records
[CD] [MP3]

Grand Champeen - Easy Street
7th Street Entry, Minneapolis, MN
April 14, 2006
Soul Asylum Tribute & Karl Mueller Foundation Benefit

Grand Champeen - Mellow My Mind
House of Smoke & Mirrors
June 3, 2006

"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 guess it happens now and then."

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 only 2-3 songs, it sounded like the band was frankensteined from my record collection. Seriously, not only were the 3 aforementioned bands represented, but as I mentioned last time, I also heard Superchunk, The Replacements, and Austin's own Prescott Curlywolf.

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 ... but I defy you to crack open a barley pop, blast the volume, and not break your own furniture. 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 am looking at you, Coldplay. Anyway, given the möbius strip nature of Six Degrees, I've added a couple Champeen bonus cuts to tie up the loose ends and bring us back home. Their cover of "Easy Street" was actually performed as part of a Soul Asylum tribute from April 2006 and six weeks later they played "Mellow My Mind" at my request.

PARTING THOUGHTS

If Neil Young has taught us anything, it's that bands shouldn't fear the ditch. Sure, they probably won't become millionaires, but there's a good chance they'll produce music that's honest, stripped-down, and limited in irony, values that should always be influential. To that end, I'd like to think that somewhere out there is a young kid hearing Tonight's The Night for the first time and about to start our new favorite band. I know, I know ... I'm such a dreamin' man.

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

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.

Download full Bo Diddley playlist (Parts 1 & 2) as zip file (117 MB)
Total Time = 43:13

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)
Dick Dale - Surfing Drums (1962)
Bo Diddley - Surf, Sink Or Swim (1963)

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)
Bo Diddley - Bo's Guitar (1958/59)
Bo Diddley - Road Runner [Live] (1963)

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

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. Enjoy!

Medleying With Bo: A Bo Diddley Bouillabaise

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

The Bo Diddley Legacy - Part 1 of 2

"I've always been a lover of African-sounding drums. I play the guitar as if it was a drum."
--Bo Diddley

A musician doesn't beat a drum, he plays a drum. He coaxes multiple rhythms from that drum, in an effort to tell his story and to support others contributing to that story. Therefore, to appreciate the profound impact of Bo Diddley, you have to digest the full implications of that quote. It doesn't simply explain his distinctive, percussive sound, it helps explain the critical difference between rhythm and blues and pop music as they each evolved through the 20th century. It's a difference as stark as, well, black and white, and no one in the postwar R&B era brought more 'R' to the table than Bo Diddley. His catalog is an encyclopedia of rhythmic jukes, jives, and divebombs that, unfortunately, has been reduced in the collective consciousness to the "Bo Diddley Beat."

The Bo Diddley sound wasn't a beat, it was a philosophy of orchestrated rhythm whose lineage began with West African drums, came up through the Caribbean and American South via hand-clapping and foot-stamping in ring shouts and sanctified church services, migrated to American cities like Chicago and Detroit with the primal drone of the blues, and stood on the American street corner doing the dozens. Bo Diddley turned all of these rhythmic influences into one of the 20th century's most profound musical legacies.

"The very concept of the 'Bo Diddley beat' is inadequate; what Bo came up with was a comprehensive theory of rhythmic orchestration. The traditional rhythms he picked up were merely raw materials. Neither the exact rhythm patterns nor the way these patterns are parceled out among the various instruments remain constant from song to song. What does remain constant is the method of rhythmic layering."
--Robert Palmer, the writer, not the musician

This quote ... as well as the other quotes attributed to Diddley here ... comes from Rock & Roll: An Unruly History, author Robert Palmer's companion volume to the 1995 PBS television series. It's by a considerable margin the best book I've ever read discussing what rock 'n' roll is and where it came from and I mention it here because his analysis of Bo Diddley is unparalleled. There was a reason he was enlisted to write the liner notes for the Bo Chess Box. The way Palmer gets inside Diddley's multi-faceted rhythmic framework and communicates its appeal not only turned me into a lifelong Bo Diddley fan, it made me want to hear, understand, and write about music like he seemed to do so effortlessly. Seriously, if there's a shred of music geek DNA in your body, you owe it to yourself to get a copy of this book. There are several used copies available at Amazon for less than $10, so you have no excuses. OK, shilling over, let's get back to Bo ...

Bo Diddley was rightfully called "The Originator" and he sure as hell wasn't shy about calling himself the creator of rock 'n' roll. However, he didn't emerge fully-formed from the head of Leonard Chess. The key word in "originator" is "origin" and while my next post will take a look at the myriad of ways in which Diddley innovated and influenced, this time around I want to examine his origins. Where exactly did Bo Diddley come from? With some help from Palmer and my own collection of records, I've hit several points of origin for the man born Ellas Otha Bates.

Download full Bo Diddley playlist (Parts 1 & 2) as zip file (117 MB)
Total Time = 43:13

MUDDY WATERS

When Bo Diddley was cutting his musical teeth in the mid-1950s, Muddy Waters was the undisputed King of Chicago's South Side. THE MAN. He was the coolest dude with the coolest voice, had the smoothest sound, the best band, the prettiest womens, and all but owned Chess Records. How could all this not influence Diddley? Bo's first single on Chess was "I'm A Man" (1955), a boastful blues based around a couple of Muddy songs, "She Moves Me" (1951) and "Hoochie Coochie Man" (1954). Muddy actually cut "Mannish Boy" in response to (and was probably a slight dig at) his young, upstart labelmate.

Muddy Waters - She Moves Me (1951)
Muddy Waters - Hoochie Coochie Man (1954)
Bo Diddley - I'm A Man (1955)

JOHN LEE HOOKER

John Lee Hooker's hypnotic blues was a primary influence on the young Bo. Hooker proved that a primitive, percussive guitar sound with minimal chord changes .... or no chord changes, for that matter ... could not only work, it could sell. It's pretty much a straight line from "Boogie Chillen" (1948) to "Who Do You Love" (1955).

John Lee Hooker - Boogie Chillen (1948)
Bo Diddley - Who Do You Love? (1956)

THE CHURCH/THE SHOUT


"A lot of times I tell people, I don't what it is (my sound), I just play it. But I do know what it is. It's mixed up with spiritual, sanctified rhythms, and the feeling I put into it when I'm playing, I have the feeling of making people shout. I put it right there in the shout mode, and they can't help it, 'cause I got it locked right in there. And that's what you gotta do. If you can't lock them into that mode, they don't move."
--Bo Diddley

Neither John Lee Hooker nor Bo Diddley invented the hypnotic drone. That sound was an elemental part of the African-American community dating back to when blacks were no longer Africans and not quite American, if you catch my drift. The primal quality heard in the music of Hooker and Diddley had its roots in the participatory black church experience, which itself grew out of the syncopated rhythms in the old ring shouts. Central to these religious rituals ... and a fundamental part of black music from day one ... was the call-and-response. When Bo calls out, "Who do you love?" and his gutiar responds in kind, that's the church coming out. Call-and-response is the defining characteristic of "Hoochie Coochie Man," "I'm A Man," and "Mannish Boy." And while the lyrics of these blues songs seem a million miles away from the sanctified church, musically they are, pardon the analogy, well within shouting distance. Listen to Sam Cooke singing "Come And Go To That Land" (1953) with The Soul Stirrers and you're hearing a cleaned-up, more sophisticated version of Austin Coleman leading Louisiana ring shouters through "Run Old Jeremiah" (1934). By the time we get to Bo singing "She's Alright" (1959) and "Africa Speaks" (1963), it's tough to say where the church ends and the R&B begins, like we're caught up in a funky retro-futurist venn diagram. Of course, that's about as good a definition of rock 'n' roll as you're gonna find ... HA!

Austin Coleman and Joe Washington Brown - Run, Old Jeremiah (1934)
Sam Cooke & The Soul Stirrers - Come And Go To That Land (1953)
Bo Diddley - She's Alright (1959)
Bo Diddley - Africa Speaks (1963)

THE AFRO-CUBAN BEAT

Bo Diddley wasn't the first American musician to tap into what came to be known as the "Bo Diddley Beat." Sure, he perfected it, no question. But that rhythmic pattern, the distinctive hambone syncopation, came straight from Africa. However ... and this is key ... it came via Caribbean musical traditions. Again, here's Palmer taking us from the ring shout to Diddley's famous beat:

"Rhythmically, the action of the ring shout has to do with the syncopation of hand clapping patterns against the thunderous but steady stamping of feet. The shout's most characteristic hand clapping involved a three-beat accent pattern familiar to any Bo Diddley fan. It's the first half of the Afro-Cuban clave/hambone/Bo Diddley beat: "shave and a haircut" repeated over and over, rather than "shave and a haircut/six bits." You can find this three-beat pattern buried in bata drum polyrhythms, on recordings of Yoruba music from Nigeria as well as Cuba. During the 1920s, it figured in music for dance crazes such as the Charleston and Black Bottom. The three-beat pattern itself was generally referred to as the Habanera, a name that suggests someone was aware of its Cuban (Havana) associations or origins."

Here's the Afro-Cuban beat as presented by three of the 20th century's most important and influential American musicians: Jelly Roll Morton, Louis Jordan, and the man of the hour, Bo Diddley.

Jelly Roll Morton - Black Bottom (1926)
Louis Jordan - Run Joe (1947)
Bo Diddley - Pretty Thing (1955)
Bo Diddley - Hush Your Mouth (1958)

STREET JIVE

Lyrically, Bo was unique among his fellow first-generation rock 'n' rollers in bringing the street into the studio. Where Chuck Berry, for example, sang about "Sweet Little Sixteen," Diddley was doing the dozens with Jerome Green. In this respect, Bo was extending the streetwise, jive-talkin' hustler tradition as set forth by Cab Calloway and Louis Jordan. Jordan was particularly influential, with many of his songs featuring his trademark half-spoken, half-sung drawl. Diddley extended the tradition of appropriating hip street lingo in his songs, so much so that hip would, in a few years, be followed by hop. (More on that in a moment). You heard it in his signifying, in his congratulatory self-reference ... seriously, how many songs have Bo talking up Bo? ... and in his general badassery. The greatest lyrics in the Diddley canon are so self-assured, they sound like they could've been penned by Muhammad Ali:

"I walk 47 miles of barbed wire
I use a cobra snake for a necktie
I got a brand new house on the roadside
Made from rattlesnake hide
I got a brand new chimney made on top
Made out of a human skull."

Suffice to say, the continuum from Calloway to Jordan to Diddley continues straight through to funk-era James Brown. And of course, oral street culture fully flowers with the emergence of hip-hop in the 1970s and '80s. To this end, I've tacked on a brief bonus cut below, the one exception to today's showcasing of Bo's forerunners. It's an excerpt from one an early MC battle, this one featuring Kool Moe Dee, then of The Treacherous Three, throwin' down on Busy Bee Starski. It's from December 1982 at Harlem World in Manhattan and is noteworthy because you'll hear Kool Moe Dee reference the song "Diddy Wah Diddy." That, of course, was a 1956 hit for Bo Diddley.

Cab Calloway - Reefer Man (1932)
Louis Jordan - Open The Door, Richard (1947)
Bo Diddley - Say Man (1959)
Kool Moe Dee - MC Battle with Busy Bee (1981)

This should keep y'all occupied for awhile. In a few days I'll post more about Bo's unique sound and innovations and massive influence on rock 'n' roll. In fact, I've got a pretty sweet surprise in store, so please check back. If you'd like to jump start your Bo Diddley collection, my suggestion is to head over to Amazon's Bo Diddley page and start exploring. You're gonna buy the Palmer book anyway, so what's a few more ducats for Bo?

Go to The Bo Diddley Legacy - Part 2 of 2

Doug Sahm Redux; RIP Bo Diddley

A few updates since Saturday's Texas Rock post:

First of all, big thanks are in order for longtime friend of The Adios Lounge, Bob Schafer. Bob was kind enough to scan and send me the back cover photos from Texas Rock For Country Rollers, which you'll find below. Pic #1 is the band sitting on an old car and I've captionized the photo with names-to-faces. Very helpful for all you budding Doug-Heads. Pic #2 is Doug standing next to the Soap Creek Saloon's Wurlitzer jukebox, which was actually taken by iconic Austin chronicler, Burton Wilson. In the 1970s, Wilson was de facto house photographer for the Armadillo World Headquarters and was responsible for enough classic photos to fill a book: Austin Music Scene: Through The Lens Of Burton Wilson.

I also added another picture from my own collection. It's a flyer for a Sahm show of this period and appears to be the same artist who designed the slick Groover's Paradise cover, Kerry Awn. It's a very cool artifact and I wished I owned one. However, if memory serves me correctly, I got the pic from an eBay auction where the flyer was going for around $100. That's a little too rich for Lounge blood.

Finally, The Lounge was saddened to hear about the passing of the great Bo Diddley. It wasn't exactly a shock, since Bo had been in poor health following a massive stroke and heart attack, but nevertheless, he was a pioneer and it's always tough to lose one of those. I'm gonna spend a few days putting together a proper tribute to the man who took the "shave and a haircut ... two bits" riff and turned it into rock 'n' roll magic. In the meantime, here's his signature song and calling card, "Bo Diddley."

Bo Diddley - Bo Diddley [purchase]