Bo Diddley is a Gunslinger. Five stars.
Well, you didn't see that coming.
Bo Diddley was a pioneer, the sore thumb in the traditional rock role call: Bill Haley, Elvis, Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, and (if you're cool) Gene Vincent. Then there's Bo Diddley, with his "Bo Diddley beat," songs unapologetically about himself and backwoods folklore - a far cry from the hot rods and young love that were the staples of 50s rock and roll. That's reason enough to get a Bo Diddley record, and if you get this one, you'll also benefit from the super cool cover art and all the maracas you could wish for (liberally supplied on every song by Jerome Green). It should be on the list of the great 50s collection, but it came out in 1960, more's the shame.
It gets started with Gun Slinger, a myth making song spinning a ridiculous yarn "about Bo Diddley at the O.K. Corral." One way or another, all the other songs on record tie into this rough-hewn and spirited little invention.
Ride On Josephine is a classic number and a brief excursion into the Chuck Berry landscape of lovingly described automobiles. It happens to be immediately memorable and has a hilarious spoken word exchange between our pushy Bo and the snippy Josephine. We only hear his half, but what's left to the imagination is comedy gold.
On Doing the Crawdaddy he's chatting up a bunch of street urchins (handily supplied by a children's chorus), teaching them how to dance. It's got a believable rapport coming from Bo's add-libbing talents.
Cadillac is another car song, less romantic, as Bo has simultaneous engine and tire trouble. Snazzy saxophone, laughable chorus "C-A-D-I-L-L-A-C?"
Surreally, the first line of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" is kiped for Somewhere, a slow ballad, muddily recorded, but sung sincerely, if in roughshod manner.
Cheyenne returns to tall tales, this one about a man "tough as a 10-penny nail." It makes no real sense and practically ends before it starts.
Sixteen Tons is the reason I started listening to this record at all. I seriously love this song. Energetic (hardest rocker in the set) cover of a Tennessee Ernie Ford hit. The lyric actually visits history, in the form of coal mining and debt bondage. To me, this must be the definitive version.
Getting into cheesy doo-wop rhythms for Whoa Mule (Shine). Nothing great, just local color "way down south," about a troublesome mule that our mythological gunslinger knew as a kid growing up.
Doo-wop soul comes to the fore on No More Lovin,' a molasses lament with horribly grating backup vocals. If he was singing unaccompanied, it would be fine.
The final note is Diddling, a fast and furious instrumental duet between, of all things, a guitar and saxophone. Wild.
My dinosaur CD release (from 1988) includes two bonus tracks, stretching the playing time to exactly an half hour. Working Man is a slow running track which might seem lackluster/underwhelming after the powerhouse of Diddling, but the lyric really makes it. Bo could sing this stuff and make you believe in it.
Do What I Say won't win any politically correct applause. "I'm gonna show you who's boss." I can't listen to the blues because of the reams of machismo, and Elvis and the Everlys get unbearably wholesome, so this stuff falls right in the perfect center for me.
If you pick up a more recent copy, you'll get even more bonus tracks. Happy hunting, because this is worth checking out if you've even a passing interest in 50s music. I myself would probably not have given it five stars if the songs were of any length. As is, even the ones that aren't good are too short to be considered bad.
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