NRR Project: ‘Bo Diddley/I’m a Man’
Written and performed by Bo Diddley
Recorded March 2, 1955
I could not do better than Ed Komara, who writes about theselection here at the National Recording Registry.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Glenn Gould plays Bach’s Goldberg Variations.
Written and performed by Carl Perkins
Recorded Dec. 19, 1955
2:08
First, read Mark Bristol and Ken Burke’s top-notch explanatory essay on this cut here, at the National Recording Registry.
I have little to add. That a guy would make a joking song about not damaging his footwear and sell millions of copies is truly an American success story. Carl Perkins (1932-1998) was an excellent songwriter and a masterful performer. That he did not take flight in the public eye as Elvis did is a shame (Elvis soon covered this song in 1956 and eventually his version outsold Perkins’). He remains known as a pioneering creator of rockabilly.
His success is attributable to a degree by the popularity of the relatively new technology – the 45-rpm record, which debuted in 1949. The concept of an “A” side and a “B” side, two “singles” bound together, became market logic and dictated the music-making industry until about 1974. It permeated the culture, selling primarily to teens.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: ‘Bo Diddley/I’m a Man’.
Written and performed by Mort Sahl
Recorded 1955; released 1958
54:36
Mort Sahl was revered as an innovative comedian in the 1950s and early 1960s, until others went farther into the outrageous than he did.
Read Daniel Blazek’s excellent essay on this selection here, at the National Recording Registry. It not only expertly illuminates the album’s generation, it thoroughly analyzes Sahl, his unique style, and his appeal.
There were no comics like him before. The American comedian at the time was a guy in a tux, tie askew, cracking out prewritten jokes, literal “routines” in familiar, safe territory. Sahl dressed down, talked TO the audience. He respected it, didn’t condescend do do tired, trite material for it. He was himself onstage, not a persona. Armed with only a newspaper, he would free-associate on any manner of topics for a crowd, whatever floated to the top of his mind. And it worked. People wanted to hear it.
His pacing is unprecedented. He makes jokes at top speed, rapidly riffing through his subjects without regard to whether the audience is laughing or not. He blows like a jazz soloist. He seems compulsive, a raging voice that tumbles pell-mell across the political and social landscape. (He is not a “blue” comic – everything he says is capable of airplay.)
This album was officially released in 1958, then withdrawn, though it was his first recorded effort, three years prior. Thus this is the first capture of Sahl at work – spitting out observations with energy and wit. He inspired later generations of comics with his daring and spontaneity.
Would his approach work today? Would he recognize the evolution of the American comedy scene? Would he be having a field day right now? Probably.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Carl Perkins delivers ‘Blue Suede Shoes.’
Sun Records recording sessions
Recorded 1954-1955
44:24
First, read this excellent and comprehensive essay on these sessions by James L. Dickerson at the National Recording Registry.
I am not an Elvis person, but these sessions are exceptional. They capture a new energy, a new musical ethic entirely. Somehow, through them a young man from Memphis with no connections became the most famous person in the world, a legend who still influences performance today. These recordings prove his appeal.
He sings like his life depends on it. Sad emotions had dominated the singer-centric pop music of the day, but this was a vibrant call for life, more life! Elvis’ energy is infectious. He howls, he stutters, he over-articulates. He can be cheesy; he is said to have derived his style in part from listening to Dean Martin. But his emotional power is tremendous – he conveys passion.
Here Elvis gets down with Scotty Moore on electric guitar and Bill Black on double bass. Moore’s spare and precise accompaniment is distinctive, and started its own tradition.
Speaking of tradition, Elvis was strictly an interpretive artist. Here he’s covering an electric set of songs, starting with a double-time rendition of bluegrass creator Bill Monroe’s classic “Blue Moon of Kentucky.” He sings “race music” – music marketed to African Americans – “That’s All Right,” “Good Rockin’ Tonight,” “Baby Let’s Play House.” He covers old standards like “Blue Moon” and, country songs such as “Just Because.” He even covers “Harbor Lights.” Together these musicians create rockabilly.
He mixes Black and white influences effortlessly. His delivery is authoritative and confident. Listening to his definitive rendition of “Mystery Train” or the overlooked “Tryin’ to Get to You,” I am spellbound. No wonder he exploded on the scene.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Mort Sahl’s At Sunset.
NRR Project: Ruth Draper’s monologues
Written and performed by Ruth Draper
Recorded 1954-1956
Approx. 5 hours
Somehow the work of this extraordinary person has escaped me until now.
Ruth Draper (1884-1956) was a debutante and member of New York’s highest social circles. However, she had a gift for mimicry, an active imagination, and writerly skill. She began to perform self-penned short comic soliloquies in character for the amusement of friends and family. Gradually, she began to perform for pay. Instead of evolving into an ordinary actress, working in tandem with others, she maintained her independence and remained a solo writer/performer. Eventually, she would be the most powerful solo performer of her generation.
She crafted one-person playlets and performed them herself, using only a shawl, a chair, and a table as props. She was capable of immersing herself completely into the characters she portrayed, riveting audiences with her wholly realized performances. She was equally adept at comedy and drama. You can read Susan Mulcahy's excellent pieces on her life and work here and here.
Her closely observed incarnations were spellbinding. As a monologist, no one could touch her, and she served as the inspiration for future performers such as Lily Tomlin and Julie Harris. Such was her talent that she could evoke an entire world through the medium of solo performance. She created nearly 50 monologues in the course of her career, speaking in a variety of languages and accents. You can listen to her today and still enjoy her; her writing has remained fresh and universal.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Elvis Presley’s Sun Records sessions.
NRR Project: “Songs for Young Lovers”
Performed by Frank Sinatra
Recorded Nov. 5-8, 1953
21:36
It was Sinatra’s first album for Capitol Records. His life at the time, professionally and personally, was terrible. But he turned things around, sadder but wiser now, in soul and in voice, gifted with a throbbing intensity that did not hamper his capable expression of understated woe. His technique was perfected. He swung. He had just finished filming From Here to Eternity, for which his performance would earn an Oscar. He was reviving his reputation and career.
This is a gem. It’s said to be the first pop music theme album made. The eight songs on the album are thematically related, instead of just being another collection of hits. All eight songs but one were arranged by George Siravo, with the orchestra conducted by Nelson Riddle. As it turns out, Riddle was assumed to be the arranging genius behind the album (he arranged only one of the eight tunes, “Like Someone in Love”), which embittered Siravo.
You should read about it here from James Kaplan at the National Recording Registry. He gives you all the details of the legendary singer’s life as well as an apt analysis of the work itself!
Sinatra here is the master singer. Rigorously, he includes all the introductory passages to these great ballads, conveying context and emotion effortlessly. He serves the song, always, and that ardent commitment somehow raises him to a higher level. He nails the essence of each song, and does so beautifully. He’s the essence of cool.
Was this an apogee for him? Many would nominate his subsequent album In the Wee Small Hours (1955) for that title. Its bleak depths are cited by musicians and critics much more frequently as being an influence. Both albums are remarkable. Sinatra was articulating the zeitgeist; for all his faults, Frankie was singing for all of us.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Ruth Draper’s monologues.
Written by Max C. Freeman and James E. Myers (as Jimmy De
Knight)
Performed by Bill Haley & His Comets
Recorded April 12, 1954
2:08
So much has been written about this song. You can read David Lee Joyner’s essay at the National Recording Registry, or you can peruse the song’s Wikipedia entry for detailed information about the song’s evolution and birth.
It was written in 1952, supposedly by Max C. Freeman alone, with Myers claiming input. It was a pop-y minor-key ballad. Bill Haley and His Comets injected it with a new energy, made it bright and raucous.
Interestingly, Haley started off in Western swing, then started doing R&B covers. His band’s sound shifted. Combining the twang of country with the thump of R&B, they forged a new sound, urgent and wild.
The song was originally the B side of a 45-r.p.m. record. On the A side was “13 Women (And Me the Only Man in Town),” a little ditty about a nuclear holocaust. “Last night I was dreamin’/Dreamed about the H-Bomb/Well, the bomb went off and I was caught/I was the only man underground/There was-a 13 women and me the only man in town . . .” (We had the record at home.) It is an odd artifact of the Atomic Age.
It is simply a song that everyone loves. It topped the charts everywhere; time and time again it came back into the cultural spotlight. It switched a major portion of the population to the appreciation of rock and roll.
The National Recording Registry Project tracks one writer’s expedition through all the recordings in the National Recording Registry in chronological order. Next time: Frank Sinatra’s Songs for Young Lovers.
NRR Project: ‘Bo Diddley/I’m a Man’ Written and performed by Bo Diddley Recorded March 2, 1955 I could not do better than Ed Komara,...
