MUSICAL MYSTERIES: WHO DO YOU LOVE?

This is becoming topical, as the thoughts of our leaders turn to whether we, the great unwashed, albeit with very clean hands, can or should be crushed by the restarting wheels of industry. Which is more important, survival of the species or of the economy? With, as ever, the failure to appreciate the fairly solid link between the two. Maybe by both sides, but I am simply a medic, not a businessman. As I start writing, the Observer Sunday newspaper over here, the U.K., has published an opinion poll, stating a 4/5 majority wanting to err on the side of caution and to maintain the lockdown. However, many of the politicians are in the smaller subset, it seems and feels, with Boris uncharacteristically unforthcoming, with perhaps his throw of the dice having given him an unwelcome perspective, absent ahead of his hospitalisation. Anyway, one of the ideas out of lockdown is a concept of family 'bubbles', a named small list of family/friends with whom you may consort. So, who do you love? Enough?

The song is by Bo Diddley, the owlish rocker with glasses, often a bowler hat, funny shaped guitars and an unshakeable self-belief. Always looking for ways to aggrandise himself against his peers, the idea came to him as he witnessed a group of kids trying to outbrag each other. Full of arcane images to conjure up dread and a sense of mystery: rattlesnakes, skulls and graveyards, by showing he is the biggest baddest Daddy of all, he begs the question of his lover: Who do you love? With but one expected answer. Covered so many times over the years, I am sure we all think we know it, so the original may come as some surprise:

Bo Diddley

It doesn't even carry much of the trademark Diddley shuffle. That would come later. And it wasn't even a hit, at least for Bo. It took Ronnie Hawkins, the journeyman Canadian rocker, to get it charting, admittedly in his home country. The vocal is all swagger, dipping into a manic frenzy at each verse/chorus end. Not bad for 1963. Name mean anything? Ronnie Hawkins. And the Hawks. Yup, I can see that glimmer of recognition. Those Hawks, later the Band, with incendiary guitar from Robbie Robertson.This they reprised, with Hawkins, at their own zenith, for The Last Waltz.

Ronnie Hawkins & the Hawks

Fast forward another five years, and we are in San Francisco. Local hipsters the Quicksilver Messenger Service were so taken with the song it became the entire second side of their second album, extends and interpreted into six separate "suites, blending live performance with studio work-outs. Indeed, so keen were the band on Diddley, they included another of his songs, Mona, on the flip.   With twin lead guitars and access to all sorts of stimulants, this was a heady and ambitious project. Arguably no small amount of pretension but, hey, it was 1968.

Quicksilver Messenger Service

I confess I knew none of these versions as they dropped, my first exposure being via short-lived UK rockers, Juicy Lucy. I was 12 and found their 1969 rendition, as ever on Top of the Pops, sinister and exciting. This group were unusual for this country in that they included pedal steel guitar, via one Glenn Campbell, not that one and no relation. Sadly it has dated badly, and my rifle back into their catalogue prove disappointing likewise.

Juicy Lucy

Now I am all grown up, my tastes have broadened and I especially love covers. So, rather than penning words, here's some of my favourites, not all from expected sources.

Townes Van Zandt

Tom Rush

Carlos Santana (with the Fabulous Thunderbirds)

Dr. Feelgood

Dion DiMucci

So, decision time, who do I love? Who's going to be in my bubble? And how do make it happen?

Who?

Self-Reflection: Bo Diddley

Hell, less self-reflection or even self-reference, more self-reverence, this was a man of, um, unconventional looks, with such exquisite self-belief that he managed to introduce himself into near all his output, entitling LPs and individual songs with tales of his derring-do. So he was, variously, a gunslinger, a lover, a twister, 500% more man, a black gladiator, you name it, he was that man. And all with the same tune and the same rhythm. (Well, almost.)

Born Ellas Otha Bates in 1928, Bo Diddley, ironically, was slang for absolutely nothing, considering he aspired to absolutely everything. But, trivia merchants, he was actually and nominally capable of being a gun-slinger, at least for a while, as he served 2 1/2 years as Deputy Sheriff in Valencia County. (It was the Citizens' Patrol.......)

His life makes for an entertaining read, and I'm not going to play it here, but go search out this, his biography, which makes for an entertaining read. Or this interview.

Here's his catalogue

Me Last: Before You Accuse Me

Eric Clapton: Before You Accuse Me

[purchase]

Magic Slim & The Teardrops: Before You Accuse Me

[purchase]

I’ve been posting here for more than two years now, and this is the first time I have run into this situation. Here are two covers of Before You Accuse Me, which obviously fits our theme. However, Bo Diddley’s original version does not, because he added in parentheses (Take a Look at Your Self). So I could have posted the original two weeks ago, but not now. No matter. Neither Eric Clapton nor Magic Slim recreate the original, but both honor its spirit and deliver versions that ring true.

Magic Slim was part of the original Chicago blues scene of the 1950s, when big names like Muddy Waters, Little Walter, and yes, Bo Diddley were defining the sound of a city. Magic Slim was barely into his twenties at the time, and he could not compete. Like so many of the blues stars of the day, Slim had come up from the south, but unlike his more successful peers, Slim gave up on making it in the Chicago scene, and returned home to Mississippi to improve his skills.

By the mid 60s, British musicians had embraced the blues. They were inspired by the Chicago sound of ten years earlier, but their music also had a rock n roll bite to it. Many of these British blues musicians finished honing their skills in John Mayall’s band the Bluesbreakers, and the most famous of these was Eric Clapton. Also in the mid 60s, Magic Slim returned to Chicago. His skills had improved, he had put together the best band he had ever had, and the Chicago of the mid 60s was less competitive. This time, Slim was a success.

Another 25 years went by. Magic Slim kept doing his thing, and became a fixture on the Chicago blues scene. Clapton, like so many of his peers, strayed far from the blues. He sought and found pop success, both as a singer and a songwriter. Clapton even stopped playing lead guitar during this period. But then, Clapton’s pop fortunes began to wane. He could adapt to the pop tastes of the 70s, but the 80s were another matter. Finally, the blues called Eric Clapton back.

In November of 1989, Eric Clapton released the album Journeyman. It was his return to the blues, and Clapton still had it. His version of Before You Accuse Me comes from that album, and Clapton attacks the song as he might have done in his youth. He returns to playing lead guitar, and he shows why he was regarded as a guitar god. But it’s not just show; as it always did, Clapton’s solo is built on the feel and emotion of the song.

Three weeks later, Magic Slim & The Teardrops released Gravel Road. Slim takes a very different approach to Before You Accuse Me. Where Clapton emphasizes the emotion of the song by hitting the beat hard, Slim sings around the beat, tugging at it, and achieving the emotional tension that way. There are solos here, but the emphasis is on the group sound. The feel is more relaxed, but no less emotionally true. Personally, I’m glad to have the song done both ways.

Since 1989, Clapton has gone back to making pop music, but he stops back and still makes a blues album from time to time as well. I get the feeling that the blues will never entirely leave him again. Slim just kept on doing what he was doing. In recent years, age has caught up to him, and he is no longer so active. But, whatever happens, has created a great body of work to inspire another generation of blues artists yet to come.

In Memoriam: Bo Diddley

Bo Diddley - Pretty Thing [purchase]

Bo Diddley - Roadrunner [Live in '63]

Bo Diddley was more than a beat, though you can hardly blame people for being confused since he played the guitar like a drum. Diddley helped introduce a generation of white kids in America and England to hard blues and R&B at the very moment it was being rebranded into rock 'n' roll. Like Chuck Berry, Bo was one of the few early rock 'n' rollers to bring the guitar to the forefront of the band. He was an innovative guitarist, too. He was no virtuoso, but in terms of incorporating distortion and effects, he was way ahead of the curve. Listen to the live version of "Roadrunner" above and you can hear Pete Townshend, Jeff Beck, and Jimi Hendrix not far behind. More than anyone else of his generation, though, it was Bo Diddley who brought the intense, churning rhythms of the black church into his music. But hey, if all you know about Bo Diddley is that beat, that's OK, too. As long as you remember.

On a personal note, I'm indebted to Diddley because I think it was my two-part essay on the man's musical legacy where The Adios Lounge truly found its voice. If you'd like to check that out, here's Part 1 here and there's Part 2 there. To that end, here's a medley of Bo covers I put together which demonstrates the profound effect of the Diddley catalog on succeeding generations of rock musicians. For a complete list of the artists medleying with Bo, that's also available at The Adios Lounge. Check it, yo.

Medleying With Bo: A Bo Diddley Bouillabaise

If you don't like Bo, you don't know Diddley.

Advice: You Can't Judge A Book By It's Cover

Bo Diddley: You Can't Judge A Book By It's Cover

[purchase]


Appearances are deceiving. You can't judge an apple by looking at a tree, you can't judge honey by looking at the bee, you can't judge a daughter by looking at the mother, but most of all - you can't judge a book by looking at the cover.