Rock

A Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On:
A Guide to Rockabilly; Past and Present

For the uninitiated, the idea of discussing Rockabilly as an independent genre might seem unnecessary. Isn’t the word just a descriptor for early rock and roll, the remarkable if somewhat overplayed work of Rock’s founding fathers, the stuff that gave birth to all that came after? Isn’t it just “oldies”? In one sense, yes, those classic songs we all know, put out by the likes of Jerry Lee Lewis and Carl Perkins, are indeed Rockabilly, and formed the trunk of the rock and roll tree. But oldies? Ah, think again, Grasshopper. Though the sound that was early Rockabilly certainly did morph into all we’ve come to know as Rock, the core sound has remained alive and vital since its inception. Dare I say it? When it comes to Rockabilly, there remains a whole lotta shakin’ going on.

But what is it? What makes something a Rockabilly song? While there is no single definition that is likely to please all, Rockabilly at its essence is a blend of Country and Blues. If Rockabilly is the trunk of the rock and roll tree, it owes its growth to the healthy roots of the earliest American sounds, which until the 1950s could arguably be broken into two categories: white music (incorporating the varied elements of County), and black music (including all aspects of Rhythm and Blues). During the era of segregation, access to music was segregated as well, and the lines between Country and Blues were more distinct. As the U.S. moved into the World War II and post World War II era, several factors combined that came to influence the development of rock and roll: rationing and war recruitment made it difficult to maintain the large touring bands of the Swing era, massive population shifts meant more interaction between different racial groups, post-war affluence and stabilized family structure allowed American teen culture to develop, and the invention of FM radio meant teenagers had access to music they had never heard before. The resulting blend of white and black sounds and culture are responsible for what we know now as the Rockabilly sound.

The first wave of music resulting from those historical forces is what most people know as Rockabilly, and one cannot seriously examine that generation without discussing Sun Records. Sun, the brainchild of Sam Phillips, was a Memphis recording studio founded in the early 1950s. Phillips is famous for recording and producing work by Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash, and Jerry Lee Lewis among others, and he is credited with creating the original Rock and Roll sound. “Rocket 88”, a song often cited as the first Rock and Roll (and first Rockabilly) song was recorded at Sun, and in some ways represents the racial and musical divisions of the time. Though Sun is most noted for work with white musicians who incorporated a black sound, African-American artist Jackie Brenston first recorded “Rocket 88” at Sun as part of Ike Turner’s Kings of Rhythm band. Interestingly, though Sam Phillips recorded the song, he gave it to Chess, a dominantly black label, for release.

Other notable artists of the time included Gene Vincent, most noted perhaps for his hit “Be-Bop-a-Lula”, Eddie Cochran, whose “20 Flight Rock” was made famous in the film “The Girl Can’t Help It” and whose “Summertime Blues” was a hit for both him and later The Who, and Bill Haley, who also recorded and released a version of “Rocket 88”, and who would later score hits such as “Rock Around the Clock” and a version of “Shake, Rattle, and Roll”. A bit of sleuthing into any of these artists, or others such as Chuck Berry, Billy Lee Riley, Joe Bennett, or Bo Diddley, can lead the interested newbie to scores of others from those early years.

As the new sounds of the 1960s began to dominate the airwaves, Rockabilly faded into the background, or rather was incorporated into the styles of new chart toppers such as The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, both of whom were deeply influenced by early American Rockabilly. Numerous artists continued to play “pure” rockabilly, however, and the 1970s and 80s brought what some would consider the second wave. Artists such as Sleepy LaBeef (pictured), Ronnie Dawson, and Ray Campi led the pack, though none were new to the scene. Sleep LaBeef, for example, had been recording since the 1950s, and joined the Sun roster in 1970. His career exemplified the “big in Japan” element that sometimes characterized rockabilly of the era. LaBeef’s popularity increased in Europe while never cracking the charts in the United States, even as nostalgia for the music began to emerge in mainstream American media with films such as “American Graffiti” and the television show “Happy Days”.

One European who was strongly impressed by Rockabilly was Ronnie Weiser (pictured), who would eventually move to the United States and form Rollin’ Rock Records, a label devoted to the sound. Weiser, a seminal figure in the “rebirth” of Rockabilly, reissued numerous recordings from the early days, and eventually began to release new material, including music from The Blasters, who became part of a larger collection of Rockabilly artists who would thrive in the 1980s.

1980s Rockabilly was often marketed as a kind of New Wave music, and it was during this era that Rockabilly began to split into its own set of sub-genres. The Blasters continued to thrive as part of the L.A. Punk scene, and a cover of their song “Marie, Marie” was a U.K. hit for Welsh artist Shakin’ Stevens. The Stray Cats (pictured) had enormous mainstream success with hits such as “Stray Cat Strut” and “Rock This Town”, though interestingly they had to move to England in order to get their first big break. Other bands of note from the time included The Polecats and The Rockats. Sub-genres, born of a blend of Rockabilly and other genres including Punk, Garage, and Surf, would birth new artists such as The Reverend Horton Heat, The Cramps, and Jason and the Scorchers. Numerous disagreements have since ensued regarding which of these and other artists are or are not authentic Rockabilly, who veered too much toward pop, who sold out, and so on. While occasionally divisive, the fact there was and is a large enough body of work to argue about speaks to the strength and permanence of the Rockabilly sound itself.

And lest you think Rockabilly is only a boys’ town, rest assured the ladies have been making their mark from the beginning. A woman named Willie Mae “Big Mama” Thornton recorded the original version of “Hound Dog”, after all, later made famous by Elvis Presley. Wanda Jackson (pictured), known as the “female Elvis” has been working her distinct growl and hiccup since the early 1950s. Jack White, a devoted Jackson fan, recently worked with her on the 2011 album, “The Party Ain’t Over”, for which she toured steadily as the opening act for Adele. Other women from the early years include Barbara Pittman and Janis Martin, and there are numerous successful modern artists such as Rosie Flores, Marti Brom, and Kim Lenz. Lisa Pankratz, one of the most respected and in-demand Rockabilly drummers of the present day, is a woman as well.

Today, Rockabilly is thriving around the world, and though none of today’s artists are breaking through to crack the auto-tune dominated modern charts, numerous bands record and tour successfully for a wide international audience of devoted fans. Notable artists of the last two decades include High Noon, Big Sandy (pictured), Deke Dickerson, Ray Condo, and literally hundreds – if not thousands – of lesser known acts around the globe, many of which are connected in an intimate and tightly woven network that extends from the former nations of the Soviet Bloc to South America, and new voices steadily continue to enter the ring. Check out JD McPherson and Lanie Lane for a start.

Finally, few musical genres have spawned so defined a lifestyle. Though music remains the heart of the Rockabilly world, the clothing, hair, cars, and conventions are a serious accompaniment for many. Numerous annual conventions, such as Viva Las Vegas in Las Vegas, Nevada and the infamous Hemsby Weekender in England, sell out every year. All told, between the fashion, the records, and the travel, Rockabilly could be said to have its own thriving economy. It even has its own Hall of Fame. Though Rockabilly will no doubt continue to have its share of lean years and occasional break out stars, it is safe to say the sound will continue to make its appearance in both leading and supporting roles for a long time to come. —Tamara Bunnell

Roxy Music “Manifesto” (1979)

Though they don’t exactly fly out of the used bin like the early records, a strong case can be made that Roxy Music’s “second act” releases are, in their own way, just as singular and compelling as their genre-defining early efforts. Manifesto was the first Roxy Music album to emerge after a four-year hiatus that saw most of the group venture off into solo territory, with mostly satisfying results. Still, a lot had changed in the time they’d been away. Disco’s four-on-the-floor pulse had fully asserted it’s dominance of mainstream pop music, conveniently, right around the time the earliest drum machines were appearing on the market. Never ones to be left in the dust, Roxy managed to embrace the new zeitgeist without sounding cloying or desperate. Manifesto succeeds on it’s own terms, somehow compelling the old, brittling skeleton of their art-rock roots to support new, unfamiliar flesh.

Opening with the disco-ball pulse and crawl of the title track, Ferry and crew come out of the gate (quiet) storming, as if they’d never been away. The deep groove is completely in step with the times, while retaining the subtle menace and mystery that touches all their best work. Ferry sounds both acutely aware of their potentially precarious position as would-be-elder statesmen entering a new era, and characteristically blithe in the utter confidence that he and his band will sail through unscathed to victory. After an extended intro, Ferry finally struts into the mix, ready and willing to silence all naysayers, intoning “I am for a life around the corner/that takes you by surprise/that comes and leaves all you need/and more besides.” Manifesto, indeed. —Jonathan

Shoes “Silhouette” (1984)

Despite guitars being toned down in favor of keyboards and electronic drums, Shoes’ Silhouette still retains a lot of the qualities of their earlier releases. While the sound is spare and dry to be sure, the consistency of their songwriting remains strong, with lightweight popsters like “Get My Message”, “When Push Comes To Shove”, and “Turnaround” taking prominence, though the robotic charm of “Will You Spin For Me” may be the single most irresistible track. Shoes’ airy, almost artificial sounding vocals actually make for a decent fit to the approach here, so if you don’t mind pure pop with an electronic heartbeat, I’d recommend Silhouette. –Ben

Kid Creole & The Coconuts “Tropical Gangsters/Wise Guy” (1982)

Coming out of the same NYC/Ze Records school that fostered the likes of Tom Tom Club, James Chance, and Was (Not Was), Kid Creole managed to stand out in a scene with no shortage of eccentrics, jokers, and flat-out freaks. One glance at the album covers confirms that no two words could have better summed up the entire ethos of this bizarre ensemble better than Tropical Gangsters, the UK title of the Coconuts third album. Kid Creole was an ex-English teacher who put his Masters degree into the service of a theatrical, but light-hearted take on the post-disco-funk explosion that was setting NYC clubs on fire in the early-’80’s. Creole’s former career bled through into the highly conceptual narratives that pre-occuppied his songs and albums, and Tropical Gangsters is no exception. The loose theme of the album revolves around the group being shipwrecked on an island of outcasts and their “gruesome ordeal”, as they are forced to play “RACE MUSIC” to broker their escape. Being of Latin descent, the Kid and his half-brother and bandmate never demurred from their background, often winkingly embracing it in the music and image of the band. Their sense of humor naturally extended into the songs themselves – “Annie, I’m Not Your Daddy” employs the female Coconuts in a dialogue wherein our hero must settle a question of paternity the only way a tropical gangster knows how – with brutal frankness – “See if I was in your blood/Then you wouldn’t be so ugly”. Tropical Gangsters takes the coconut and runs with it from here, with seven more hilarious tales of island-life scandal and intrigue that duly threaten to grind the dance floor to dust while they’re at it. KC had made good albums before this, but this was where the songs and the groove finally came together to create the perfect tropical storm. —Jonathan

Ace Frehley “Ace Frehley” (1978)

Ace was always the coolest member of KISS, his couldn’t care less attitude contrasting with poutin’ Paul and the demon, and his meat and potatoes guitar style featuring a wide, spaced out vibrato, was central to the KISS sound. It’s no shock that of the four ’78 solo albums, Ace’s is always the favorite, and I’d go as far to say it stacks up against any of the original KISS studio sides. The key is Ace’s lack of ambition, Ace Frehley being a straight-ahead hard rock record with few deviations. “Rip It Out” drops the hammer as the deliriously wasted “Ozone,” scatterbrained “Wiped-Out” and snortin’ slammer “Snowblind” draw you into Ace’s chemically-addled world. Ace manages to mix things up as well, his cover of the Russ Ballard penned glam-stomp “New York Groove” turning into a hit, “What’s on Your Mind?” being a hidden power pop gem, and the album closes with the cool chill-out instrumental, “Fractured Mirror.” –Ben

Genesis “A Trick of the Tail” (1976)

If Genesis is, at best, a guilty pleasure (and I’m not necessarily implying they are), what to make of post-Peter-Gabriel-Genesis? And if they’re not a guilty pleasure (and I’m not fully prepared to say they aren’t), but rather, with Gabriel at the helm, the Most Wonderfulest Group on God’s Grey Earth—what happens to the listener who says A Trick of the Tail is probably nearly almost just about as good as Selling England by the Pound? Shall he be drawn and quartered?

With more emphasis on rhythm, due to less cluttered production and willful eccentricity, the group seems to hit their stride as a (relatively) straightforward rock outfit following the departure of resident eccentric Peter Gabriel. The emergence of Phil’s drums are just the refreshing advance that was needed after all that murky “orchestration;” but the orchestration on this album’s predecessor leaves a lot to be desired on this weird crossover, an album that mines territory similar to Lamb’s predecessor, Selling England by the Pound, but lacks the structural inventiveness and the skewed cinematic sense the group had captured on the latter and the aforementioned follow-up, an unwieldy but frequently incredible record.

For those who entirely discount post-Gabriel Genesis, much of this (and its successor, for that matter) are pretty solid. Arguably not up to the standard of anything that came before, but, trading in some of the “drama” for a stronger attack and a little much-needed directness, this stuff is pretty, and mostly pretty compelling. Phil Collins haters be damned! –Will

Be-Bop Deluxe “Axe Victim” (1974)

As mentioned in all other assessments of this album, the influence of Ziggy Stardust permeates Axe Victim from Bill’s Bowiesque mullet down to the freeze-dried production, self-mythologizing content and plasticized space-age musical character of the songs. However, beneath it’s glam-bandwagoning lies an imaginative album that’s easy to enjoy if you’re able to lower the blinders to it’s Ziggy impersonations, while guitar hero worshipers will find in Nelson’s hyperactive cascades of fuzz an idol worthy of praise. Highlighted in the “Rock & Roll Suicide” inspired urban wasteland of “Adventures in a Yorkshire Landscape,” the axe-victimizing epic “Jets at Dawn,” anthemic “Jet Silver and the Dolls of Venus,” and shadowy orchestrated closer “Darkness,” Nelson and his Be Boppers turn in a set of over-literate but oddly engaging tracks whose charms are probably easier to appreciate given three decades of glam dormancy. Inevitably, Nelson would call an audible and leave Axe Victim a curious footnote to his prolific career, but it’s a forgotten son worth getting reacquainted with. —Ben

Shoes “Black Vinyl Shoes” (1978)

My pick for the fizziest power pop album ever made. The home-recorded guitar buzz even gives the cozy impression of a warm and constant carbon dioxide “fffffffff” across these fifteen catchy melodies. The group recorded it themselves as a demo—then they just released it as is—and each track is pure melody adorned only with the barest, ghostly living room production. It’s a uniquely spectral record, a little hook-filled cry in the night. Everyone notices its odd sound. Today, roughly 275,000 homemade albums come out each year, but in 1978 there wasn’t much else that sounded like this. Today, it feels timeless. It’s also consistently good. I can’t pick favorite songs off this any more than I can pick which M&M was the best out of the bag, but I’ve thrown “Fatal” onto a few mixes due its great percussion. —Jason

Tim Buckley “Happy Sad“ (1969)

Rather than conforming to just one of the emotions listed in its deceptively simple title, ‘Happy Sad’ works as a fusion of the two, finding a glorious middle ground that is utterly joyous in its unrivalled melancholy. Perhaps looking back now with knowledge of Tim’s passing adds a certain poignancy to these songs and their emotional content, but surely one completely ignorant of the artist’s history would have a hard time denying ‘Happy Sad’s otherworldly beauty. ‘Gypsy Woman’ may seem an abrupt change from the mood and mellow style of the other material, but even if it does seem more at home on ‘Greetings from L.A.’, the adventurous spirit and folk-jazz textures fit perfectly here. One of Tim Buckley’s finest albums, which says volumes for it’s place in the annals of musical history.—Christian

Andy Summers & Robert Fripp “I Advance Masked” (1982)

A fortuitous meeting between the King Crimson and Police guitarists, the all-instrumental “I Advance Masked” is built around a number of seemingly improv-based couplings of the artists’ signature sounds – the needle like leads and polyrhythmic gamelan influenced patterns that propelled albums like “Discipline” dominate, but ever-present as well are Summers’ bright guitar textures.

Both of these guys’ main gigs during the 80’s held in common the ability to create an indistinctly exotic yet contemporary atmosphere, and while clearly more experimental than thoroughly composed, “I Advance Masked” taps in to a similar vibe with wonderful results. —Ben

Traffic “John Barleycorn Must Die” (1970)

A superlative album. It’s actually a toss-up for me between this album and ‘Low Spark of High Heeled Boys’ as to which is Traffic’s best recording, but it really doesn’t matter. I’ll take both. Anyway, it is quite ballsy that a rock band of Traffic’s stature should title their album and include a 6.5 minute long version of a 16th century song — an allegory on the cultivation of barley and it alcoholic after-effects. Yet, it works; in fact, I prefer this version of John Barleycorn to that of Martin Carthy, Fairport Convention or Steeleye Span, it is that good. But most of the album is far more jazzier than folky, a compliment to the diversity of Traffic. ‘Glad’ is exactly what its title implies: a joyous and jazzy romp with one of the nicest piano sequences in rock ‘n’ roll. ‘Glad’ segues seamlessly into ‘Freedom Rider’ another bit of jazz fusion, and an excellent vocal bookend to the instrumental ‘Glad’. ‘Empty Pages’ presents Traffic at its most…ummm…’Trafficesque’. It is a quintessential Traffic tune.

And this is the quintessential Traffic album: compositionally diverse, catchy riffing and a musical virtuousity that one does not find in the later ages of rock. As a matter of fact, an argument can be made that this type of album can no longer be made, due to the reliance on strict genre-defining output and the lack of musical diversification in the current crop of rock musicians. I hate the wanking 21st century. —Dark Elf

Fleetwood Mac “Bare Trees” (1972)

It’s interesting how “Future Games” has a very distinct summer feel and “Bare Trees” has a very distinct winter feel. It’s a testament to the genuine depth of talent evident in this line-up that they manage to pull off both with aplomb. It’s hard to choose between the two but I think I have a slight preference for this album as Christine McVie’s songs are improvements on the formula she established on “Future Games”, and there’s a bigger indication of where Fleetwood Mac’s sound would go in the future; they sound like a band on solid ground. Featuring on his fourth and final Fleetwood Mac album, Danny Kirwan responds again to the change in sound and delivers the goods. This album might give fans an indication of how his sound might have developed had he not fallen out so spectacularly with the band. If there was any remaining doubt that he was a wonderfully gifted writer and performer then they’re put to rest here; he signs off with a batch of songs that confirm him as a talented pop craftsman.

Kirwan’s album opener, “Child of Mine”, is a nice little mover with great guitar work. His instrumental, “Sunny Side of Heaven”, is like watching a cloud falling from the sky in slow motion-it’s that serene. “Bare Trees” is another groovy, melodic rocker with potent bursts of lead guitar from Kirwan and great vocals. “Danny’s Chant” is a quasi-instrumental with wordless vocals over the top that somehow enhances the ambient feel of the album and has some nice wah-wah in it. Kirwan’s final contribution, “Dust”, is the highlight of the album and one of the best songs I’ve ever heard. The lyrics are taken from a Rupert Brooke poem and whether the music came first or the idea of using the lyrics came first, it’s a mighty impressive feat. The lyrics are beautiful and the music has such a powerful synthesis of beauty and sadness that it breaks my heart every time I listen to it. Bob Welch’s contributions are wonderful with the use of mellotron and the catchy chorus of “The Ghost” standing out for me. Christine McVie’s contributions are similar to her songs from “Future Games” but slightly better in my opinion. “Homeward Bound” genuinely rocks and doesn’t out stay it’s welcome in the way that “Morning Rain” did. The guitar solo from Kirwan is absolutely scintillating; he even manages to throw a Rainbow-style progression into the mix. The poem that ends the album is an interesting addition. Read by a Mrs. Scarrot, it fits in well with the winter feel of the album. Fans of the Lindsay Buckingham-era of Fleetwood Mac will probably enjoy this album and, ultimately, it occupies a really good middle-ground between the two well-known periods of the band. Danny Kirwan’s stint in the Mac is over but he leaves us a wealth of great, unappreciated material and “Bare Trees” is a fitting epitaph to his time in the band. –Tom