Chuck had a good long run.Well, early in the mornin' I'm a givin' you a warnin'don't you step on my blue suede shoesHey diddle diddle, I am playin' my fiddle,ain't got nothin' to loseRoll Over Beethoven and tell Tchaikovsky the news
.. 1964, I'm 13 years old at our summer house in Maine.My next door neighbor has a 16 year old son who drives a 1949 ford hot rod.We are hanging out,, car radio on --" Riding along in my calabooseStill trying to get her belt unlooseAll the way home I held a grudgeBut the safety belt, it would not budge" Hail Hail Rock and RollRIP to an American Legend.rob
The absolute essence. No 2-CD comp could possibly contain all the winners. Compared to the other pioneers, he had the fuckin' tunes. The guy was prolific in his prime. Being young, my first purchase was St. Louis To Liverpool. During Easter break 1967, my boyfriend bought me Golden Decade at the Teenage Fair. A year later that same guy bought me Little Richard's Grooviest 17 Hits. He was a freelance welder. Had an arc welder mounted to the back of one of his trucks. Made pretty good money. I helped him squander it. My boyfriend had a great suede jacket with fringes that made him look and smell super manly. Oh my god, the pheromones! He loved oldies and we went to all the nostalgia shows Jim Pewter put on. Saw Chuck scads of times. Others co-billed at different shows were Little Richard, Fleetwood Mac, Bo Diddley, The Sons Of Champlin, Johnny Otis, Lee Michaels, Jo Jo Gunne and even Mama Lion. Chuck was pretty consistent, meaning that the fucker just didn't give a shit. Fuck rehearsing. Fuck tuning the guitar. Once he was supposed to headline a show with Three Dog Night, the Guess Who, Tower of Power and others, but he even didn't bother to show. And the Holiday Inn he was staying at was just across the street from the venue. I think he was making the new decade even more golden.Got back stage at one of his shows, but paid more attention to Bo Diddley who was pretty funny when he wasn't outlining how large his dick was by caressing it through his pants. Too beaucoup for me. Chuck-Chuck-Bo-Buck-Banana-Fana-Fo-FuckVR
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An idiosyncratic blog dedicated to the precursors, the practioners, and the descendants of power pop.
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