Post by gremashlo on Oct 16, 2010 15:45:40 GMT -5
"B" side as historical document.
By 1972, Chuck Berry was irrelevant. Besides having no significant original material since "No Particular Place to Go" eight years before (and after four years in prison on a Mann's Act chare that no white man would have served time for), he had been dropped by his label, Mercury, and returned to a watered-down Chess label.
However, Berry had always been a popular road show, although his road behavior was far from normal--he traveled alone; he never had a backing band, and insisted that the promoters supply him with a band that he would not rehearse with; he refused to play unless paid in advance; and he played no encores. Yay.
But in 1972, Berry had a British tour that took him to the Lanchester Arts Festival at the Locarno Ballroom in Coventry, England, where Berry - backed by The Roy Young Band (featuring future Average White Band members guitarist Onnie McIntyre and drummer Robbie McIntosh)- topped a bill that also included Slade and Billy Preston. Earlier, Berry recorded a few lackluster album tracks for what would become "The London Chuck Berry Sessions", an album so mediocre they decided to give an entire side to Berry's festival performance--"Reelin' and Rockin'"; "My Ding-A-Ling" and his traditional concert closer, "Bye-Bye Johnny".
That's when fate stepped in.
Berry's eleven-minute tribute to grade school penis jokes, "My Ding-a-Ling" became a freakish hit, becoming Berry's only #1 hit, a miscarriage of history that is unmatched. While the song (now pretty much unplayable on oldies radio and even left off of the majority of Chuck's compilations) stunk up the airwaves, no one noticed the flipside, which was the mis-titled "Johnny B. Goode" (even Chess no longer cared about labeling Chuck's singles correctly).
The track, which is actually a spirited if rough rendition of "Bye Bye Johnny", becomes legendary at about 2:28, when the festival's announcer storms the stage WHILE CHUCK IS STILL PLAYING, and tries to bum-rush him off the stage! (Why Berry did not club him with his guitar is a mystery) The crowd reacts with surprising fury, as the announcer tries to explain that a Pink Floyd concert was scheduled to take place---and that they had to get the hell outta there. The remainder of the side features the Locarno Ballroom manager pleading with the audience...to no avail. The crowd is determined to get a encore, despite Berry's stance (he was long gone by then--though McIntosh's drum encouragement helped)...and the side ends with the crowd chanting "We Want CHUCK...We Want CHUCK...
Berry's only #1...Chess Records' last hit...and the only thing worth a damn is the accidental recording of a flustered announcer trying to keep Pink Floyd happy. Strange thing, immortality.
By 1972, Chuck Berry was irrelevant. Besides having no significant original material since "No Particular Place to Go" eight years before (and after four years in prison on a Mann's Act chare that no white man would have served time for), he had been dropped by his label, Mercury, and returned to a watered-down Chess label.
However, Berry had always been a popular road show, although his road behavior was far from normal--he traveled alone; he never had a backing band, and insisted that the promoters supply him with a band that he would not rehearse with; he refused to play unless paid in advance; and he played no encores. Yay.
But in 1972, Berry had a British tour that took him to the Lanchester Arts Festival at the Locarno Ballroom in Coventry, England, where Berry - backed by The Roy Young Band (featuring future Average White Band members guitarist Onnie McIntyre and drummer Robbie McIntosh)- topped a bill that also included Slade and Billy Preston. Earlier, Berry recorded a few lackluster album tracks for what would become "The London Chuck Berry Sessions", an album so mediocre they decided to give an entire side to Berry's festival performance--"Reelin' and Rockin'"; "My Ding-A-Ling" and his traditional concert closer, "Bye-Bye Johnny".
That's when fate stepped in.
Berry's eleven-minute tribute to grade school penis jokes, "My Ding-a-Ling" became a freakish hit, becoming Berry's only #1 hit, a miscarriage of history that is unmatched. While the song (now pretty much unplayable on oldies radio and even left off of the majority of Chuck's compilations) stunk up the airwaves, no one noticed the flipside, which was the mis-titled "Johnny B. Goode" (even Chess no longer cared about labeling Chuck's singles correctly).
The track, which is actually a spirited if rough rendition of "Bye Bye Johnny", becomes legendary at about 2:28, when the festival's announcer storms the stage WHILE CHUCK IS STILL PLAYING, and tries to bum-rush him off the stage! (Why Berry did not club him with his guitar is a mystery) The crowd reacts with surprising fury, as the announcer tries to explain that a Pink Floyd concert was scheduled to take place---and that they had to get the hell outta there. The remainder of the side features the Locarno Ballroom manager pleading with the audience...to no avail. The crowd is determined to get a encore, despite Berry's stance (he was long gone by then--though McIntosh's drum encouragement helped)...and the side ends with the crowd chanting "We Want CHUCK...We Want CHUCK...
Berry's only #1...Chess Records' last hit...and the only thing worth a damn is the accidental recording of a flustered announcer trying to keep Pink Floyd happy. Strange thing, immortality.
