Bo Diddley
Bo Diddley. Say it again. Bo Diddley! I met him a couple of times. He signed an autograph; “I’m Bo Diddley”. Word. The shave-and-a-haircut-two-bits drumbeat. The thrashing guitar. He helped write The Book. I bought this double LP compilation in the 1980s. It has pretty much everything on it that made his name, all of it recorded for Chess in Chicago. “Bo Diddley”, his signature tune, ‘Diddley Daddy’ and ‘Hey Bo Diddley’. Namechecking himself with a swaggering bravado, like some proto rapper. Remember in the 1950s though, when these were released, Bo couldn’t get into most places because of his skin. The Civil Rights Bill wasn’t passed until 1965. So, when he sings “I’m a Man” the subtext is always, “don’t call me boy”. Similarly, “You Can’t Judge a Book by Its Cover”. Black music has always been ‘code’ music whether Train Songs or Blues euphemism. Bo got ripped off like the rest of his generation.
And yet, his music is just joy with a capital J. ‘My Babe’, ‘Mona’, ‘Pills’ ‘Road Runner’, ‘Pretty Thing’, ‘My Babe’, ‘Mumblin’ Guitar’, ‘Who do You Love’, and the rest, usually accompanied by Jerome’s maracas keeping the beat steady and swinging. There’s variety too, not just awopbopaloobopalopbamboom, wham-bam-thank-you-mam. His voice is big and knowing. But it’s the guitar that makes it. Big, pummelling rhythm. Piston riffs. Reverbed twang. With THAT beat. Without him R&R would’ve been very different.
Bo Diddley
Bo Diddley. Say it again. Bo Diddley! I met him a couple of times. He signed an autograph; “I’m Bo Diddley”. Word. The shave-and-a-haircut-two-bits drumbeat. The thrashing guitar. He helped write The Book. I bought this double LP compilation in the 1980s. It has pretty much everything on it that made his name, all of it recorded for Chess in Chicago. “Bo Diddley”, his signature tune, ‘Diddley Daddy’ and ‘Hey Bo Diddley’. Namechecking himself with a swaggering bravado, like some proto rapper. Remember in the 1950s though, when these were released, Bo couldn’t get into most places because of his skin. The Civil Rights Bill wasn’t passed until 1965. So, when he sings “I’m a Man” the subtext is always, “don’t call me boy”. Similarly, “You Can’t Judge a Book by Its Cover”. Black music has always been ‘code’ music whether Train Songs or Blues euphemism. Bo got ripped off like the rest of his generation.
And yet, his music is just joy with a capital J. ‘My Babe’, ‘Mona’, ‘Pills’ ‘Road Runner’, ‘Pretty Thing’, ‘My Babe’, ‘Mumblin’ Guitar’, ‘Who do You Love’, and the rest, usually accompanied by Jerome’s maracas keeping the beat steady and swinging. There’s variety too, not just awopbopaloobopalopbamboom, wham-bam-thank-you-mam. His voice is big and knowing. But it’s the guitar that makes it. Big, pummelling rhythm. Piston riffs. Reverbed twang. With THAT beat. Without him R&R would’ve been very different.