An American original if ever there was one, Little Richard (aka Richard Wayne Penniman) remains one of the most charismatic and exciting performers in the history of rock and roll. From his days in Macon, Georgia’s Pentecostal churches, where as a youth he was once banned from singing because his “screaming and hollering” were deemed too loud, to his days touring with traveling shows and singing for Macon’s own prophet and spiritualist Doctor Nubilio, who went about in a turban, colorful cape, and black stick (to say nothing of a “devil’s child,” in the form of a desiccated corpse of a baby with claw feet and horns on his head), Little Richard wowed ‘em all until he finally found his way to Specialty Records, where in September 1955 he recorded the song that would help make him an immortal, “Tutti Frutti.”
And the rest is history. Little Richard’s live performances were so powerful and borderline raunchy (by the standards of the time, that is) that he even helped to bring down the color barrier; his shows drew both blacks and whites, who started off in the mandatory racially segregated areas of the clubs he played but wound up dancing together by the time he was done. He was also known for his outrageous stage garb, including makeup as well as suits studded with semi-precious stones and sequins, and his wild performances and crazed persona soon led women to throw their underwear on stage, much to the dismay and chagrin of such rabid dog segregationists as the North Alabama’s White Citizen Council.
By the time his first LP was released Little Richard was already a millionaire and living in a mansion in Los Angeles next to the boxer Joe Louis. But in 1957 the self-described “omnisexual” who once said, “The only thing I like better than a big penis is a bigger penis” renounced his “sinful” ways and announced his intention to become a preacher of the gospel, which he did after studying theology at Oakwood College in Huntsville, Alabama. He ultimately returned to secular music, and to secular hobbies, praise be to God, in 1962, and his performances were so outrageously successful that before long the Beatles were opening for him.
And I could go on, but I want to talk some about 1967’s Little Richard’s Greatest Hits: Recorded Live, which was recorded “live” for the Okeh label at CBS studios in Hollywood. He blesses us with most of his best tunes, although I’m personally hurt that he didn’t see fit to add “Keep a Knockin’” and “Rip It Up,” both of which are personal favorites. But the energy! The man is powered by rocket fuel, and if he brags on himself now and again he has every right. “Lucille” sounds like it’s being played triple time, and when he goes, “Woooo!” it’s enough to give you shivers. The same goes for “Tutti Frutti,” which is to say it’s supercharged, and on which he screams, shouts, and delivers his trademark, “Womp bomp a mooma ba lop bam boom!” As for the hard-charging “The Girl Can’t Help It,” it practically seethes with sensuality, but sounds like a slow groove compared to “Lucille” and “Tutti Frutti.”
On “Get Down With It” he is careful to point out that he’s no wig man and that, “This is my own beautiful hair” before getting down and dirty, telling everybody to raise their hands and clap their hands and to get into the groove, while on “Long Tall Sally” he modestly announces, “I want you to know I am the best looking man in show business” before getting down to the business of shaking, baking, and jelly shaking. At the outset of the rollicking “Jenny, Jenny,” which will have you “spinnin’ like a spinnin’ top,” he repeats that he’s the best looking guy in show biz, then moves on to the piano-driven “Good Golly, Miss Molly” on which he gives it his all, shouting and proclaiming like the Gospel minister he is while the audience screams and screams. As for the immortal “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On,” he proclaims that “my music is the healin’ music,” capable of curing the blind and the lame, before the band once again launches into a jet-propelled version of a righteous classic.
He slows things down with the soulful “Send Me Some Lovin’” and the slow, slow rocker “Anyway You Want Me,” on which he sings, “Let it roll/Yeah, let it roll” while urging the audience to sing along. I don’t know who played horns at this show, but they’re great throughout, and the guy playing the muted trumpet on “Anyway You Want Me” is especially hot. And Little Richard closes things out with the funky and mid-tempo “You Gotta Feel It,” which once again boasts one mean horn arrangement. Why, he even lets loose with a “Sock it to me,” which helps you to nail down the time frame of the show as accurately as anything else does.
Little Richard has never been, I think, as conflicted about playing the Devil’s music as Jerry Lee Lewis, despite his temporary retirement to preach the gospel, but then he has (despite serious addictions to alcohol, cocaine, and heroin later in his career) never gone as far down the road of perdition as Lewis has, not that anyone, including Keith Richards, has ever gone as far down that road as the mean, mean Jerry Lee.
I have the sense the great Mr. Penniman has always been able to reconcile the spiritual and the secular, seeing them as flip sides of the same coin, namely as a means to do what his spirit has always bid him to do, i.e., bring joy and happiness to the whole wide world. Which is something Lewis has never been able to do: to him playing rock’n’roll is a one-way ticket to Hell, which is I think why he has shot people and Little Richard has not. Anyway, Little Richard seems to have found a way to pay the Devil his due without falling under the Devil’s sway, and we’ve all been better off for it. He has provided us with some of the greatest rock’n’roll of all time, and he has done it with flash, flair, and as he’s careful to let us know, his own beautiful hair.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
