SOUND PROJECTIONS
AN ONLINE QUARTERLY MUSIC MAGAZINE
EDITOR: KOFI NATAMBU
WINTER, 2019
VOLUME SIX NUMBER THREE
ANTHONY BRAXTON
Featuring the Musics and Aesthetic Visions of:
ISAAC HAYES
(December 29—January 4)
THOM BELL
(January 5-11)
THE STYLISTICS
(January 12-18)
THE O’JAYS
(January 19-25)
OTIS REDDING
(January 26-February 1)
BOOKER T. JONES
(February 2-8)
THE STAPLE SINGERS
(February 9-15)
OTIS RUSH
(February 16-22)
ERROLL GARNER
(February 23-March 1)
EARL HINES
(March 2-8)
BO DIDDLEY
(March 9-15)
BO DIDDLEY
(March 9-15)
BIG BILL BROONZY
(March 16–22)https://www.allmusic.com/artist/bo-diddley-mn0000055128/biography
Bo Diddley
(1928-2008)
Artist Biography by Richie Unterberger
He only had a few hits in the 1950s and early '60s, but as Bo Diddley sang, "You Can't Judge a Book by Its Cover." You can't judge an artist by his chart success, either, and Diddley produced greater and more influential music than all but a handful of the best early rockers. The Bo Diddley beat -- bomp, ba-bomp-bomp, bomp-bomp -- is one of rock & roll's bedrock rhythms, showing up in the work of Buddy Holly, the Rolling Stones, and even pop-garage knock-offs like the Strangeloves' 1965 hit "I Want Candy." Diddley's
hypnotic rhythmic attack and declamatory, boasting vocals stretched
back as far as Africa for their roots, and looked as far into the future
as rap. His trademark otherworldly vibrating, fuzzy guitar style did
much to expand the instrument's power and range. But even more
important, Bo's
bounce was fun and irresistibly rocking, with a wisecracking, jiving
tone that epitomized rock & roll at its most humorously outlandish
and freewheeling.
Before taking up blues and R&B, Diddley had studied classical violin, but shifted gears after hearing John Lee Hooker. In the early '50s, he began playing with his longtime partner, maraca player Jerome Green, to get what Bo's called "that freight train sound." Billy Boy Arnold, a fine blues harmonica player and singer in his own right, was also playing with Diddley when the guitarist got a deal with Chess in the mid-'50s (after being turned down by rival Chicago label Vee-Jay). His very first single, "Bo Diddley"/"I'm a Man" (1955), was a double-sided monster. The A-side was soaked with futuristic waves of tremolo guitar, set to an ageless nursery rhyme; the flip was a bump-and-grind, harmonica-driven shuffle, based around a devastating blues riff. But the result was not exactly blues, or even straight R&B, but a new kind of guitar-based rock & roll, soaked in the blues and R&B, but owing allegiance to neither.
Diddley was never a top seller on the order of his Chess rival Chuck Berry, but over the next half-dozen or so years, he produced a catalog of classics that rival Berry's in quality. "You Don't Love Me," "Diddley Daddy," "Pretty Thing," "Diddy Wah Diddy," "Who Do You Love?," "Mona," "Road Runner," "You Can't Judge a Book by Its Cover" -- all are stone-cold standards of early, riff-driven rock & roll at its funkiest. Oddly enough, his only Top 20 pop hit was an atypical, absurd back-and-forth rap between him and Jerome Green, "Say Man," that came about almost by accident as the pair were fooling around in the studio.
As a live performer, Diddley was galvanizing, using his trademark square guitars and distorted amplification to produce new sounds that anticipated the innovations of '60s guitarists like Jimi Hendrix. In Great Britain, he was revered as a giant on the order of Chuck Berry and Muddy Waters. The Rolling Stones in particular borrowed a lot from Bo's rhythms and attitude in their early days, although they only officially covered a couple of his tunes, "Mona" and "I'm Alright." Other British R&B groups like the Yardbirds, Animals, and Pretty Things also covered Diddley standards in their early days. Buddy Holly covered "Bo Diddley" and used a modified Bo Diddley beat on "Not Fade Away"; when the Stones gave the song the full-on Bo treatment (complete with shaking maracas), the result was their first big British hit.
The British Invasion helped increase the public's awareness of Diddley's importance, and ever since then he's been a popular live act. Sadly, though, his career as a recording artist -- in commercial and artistic terms -- was over by the time the Beatles and Stones hit America. He would record with ongoing and declining frequency, but after 1963, he never wrote or recorded original material on par with his early classics. Whether he'd spent his muse, or just felt he could coast on his laurels, is hard to say. But he remains a vital part of the collective rock & roll consciousness, and occasionally reached wider visibility via a 1979 tour with the Clash, a cameo role in the film Trading Places, a late-'80s tour with Ronnie Wood, and a 1989 television commercial for sports shoes with star athlete Bo Jackson.
https://www.rockhall.com/inductees/bo-diddley
ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME
Bo Diddley
(1928-2008)
Inducted: 1987
A guitarist so iconic there’s a beat named after him.
Bo Diddley, nicknamed “the Originator” for his role in the transition from blues to rock and roll, drove music into a new era with his rollicking rhythms and edgy guitar.
https://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/03/arts/music/03diddley.html
He was a hero to those who had learned from him, including the Rolling Stones and the Beatles. A generation later, he became a model of originality to punk or post-punk bands like the Clash and the Fall.
Before taking up blues and R&B, Diddley had studied classical violin, but shifted gears after hearing John Lee Hooker. In the early '50s, he began playing with his longtime partner, maraca player Jerome Green, to get what Bo's called "that freight train sound." Billy Boy Arnold, a fine blues harmonica player and singer in his own right, was also playing with Diddley when the guitarist got a deal with Chess in the mid-'50s (after being turned down by rival Chicago label Vee-Jay). His very first single, "Bo Diddley"/"I'm a Man" (1955), was a double-sided monster. The A-side was soaked with futuristic waves of tremolo guitar, set to an ageless nursery rhyme; the flip was a bump-and-grind, harmonica-driven shuffle, based around a devastating blues riff. But the result was not exactly blues, or even straight R&B, but a new kind of guitar-based rock & roll, soaked in the blues and R&B, but owing allegiance to neither.
Diddley was never a top seller on the order of his Chess rival Chuck Berry, but over the next half-dozen or so years, he produced a catalog of classics that rival Berry's in quality. "You Don't Love Me," "Diddley Daddy," "Pretty Thing," "Diddy Wah Diddy," "Who Do You Love?," "Mona," "Road Runner," "You Can't Judge a Book by Its Cover" -- all are stone-cold standards of early, riff-driven rock & roll at its funkiest. Oddly enough, his only Top 20 pop hit was an atypical, absurd back-and-forth rap between him and Jerome Green, "Say Man," that came about almost by accident as the pair were fooling around in the studio.
As a live performer, Diddley was galvanizing, using his trademark square guitars and distorted amplification to produce new sounds that anticipated the innovations of '60s guitarists like Jimi Hendrix. In Great Britain, he was revered as a giant on the order of Chuck Berry and Muddy Waters. The Rolling Stones in particular borrowed a lot from Bo's rhythms and attitude in their early days, although they only officially covered a couple of his tunes, "Mona" and "I'm Alright." Other British R&B groups like the Yardbirds, Animals, and Pretty Things also covered Diddley standards in their early days. Buddy Holly covered "Bo Diddley" and used a modified Bo Diddley beat on "Not Fade Away"; when the Stones gave the song the full-on Bo treatment (complete with shaking maracas), the result was their first big British hit.
The British Invasion helped increase the public's awareness of Diddley's importance, and ever since then he's been a popular live act. Sadly, though, his career as a recording artist -- in commercial and artistic terms -- was over by the time the Beatles and Stones hit America. He would record with ongoing and declining frequency, but after 1963, he never wrote or recorded original material on par with his early classics. Whether he'd spent his muse, or just felt he could coast on his laurels, is hard to say. But he remains a vital part of the collective rock & roll consciousness, and occasionally reached wider visibility via a 1979 tour with the Clash, a cameo role in the film Trading Places, a late-'80s tour with Ronnie Wood, and a 1989 television commercial for sports shoes with star athlete Bo Jackson.
https://www.rockhall.com/inductees/bo-diddley
ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME
Bo Diddley
(1928-2008)
Category: Performers
A guitarist so iconic there’s a beat named after him.
Bo Diddley, nicknamed “the Originator” for his role in the transition from blues to rock and roll, drove music into a new era with his rollicking rhythms and edgy guitar.
Biography
Music
Bo Diddley, Who Gave Rock His Beat, Dies at 79
Bo Diddley,
a singer and guitarist who invented his own name, his own guitars, his
own beat and, with a handful of other musical pioneers, rock ’n’ roll
itself, died Monday at his home in Archer, Fla. He was 79.
The cause was heart failure, a spokeswoman, Susan Clary, said. Mr. Diddley had a heart attack last August, only months after suffering a stroke while touring in Iowa.
In the 1950s, as a founder of rock ’n’ roll, Mr. Diddley — along with Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis and a few others — helped to reshape the sound of popular music worldwide, building on the templates of blues, Southern gospel, R&B and postwar black American vernacular culture.
His
original style of rhythm and blues influenced generations of musicians.
And his Bo Diddley syncopated beat — three strokes/rest/two strokes —
became a stock rhythm of rock ’n’ roll.
It can be found in Buddy Holly’s “Not Fade Away,” Johnny Otis’s “Willie and the Hand Jive,” the Who’s “Magic Bus,”Bruce Springsteen’s “She’s the One” and U2’s “Desire,” among hundreds of other songs.
Related Coverage:
The Music They Made: Bo Diddley
Remembering Bo Diddley JULY 19, 2013
Yet the rhythm was only one element of his best records. In songs like “Bo Diddley,” “Who Do You Love,” “Mona,”
“Crackin’ Up,” “Say, Man,” “Ride On Josephine” and “Road Runner,” his
booming voice was loaded up with echo and his guitar work came with
distortion and a novel bubbling tremolo. The songs were knowing,
wisecracking and full of slang, mother wit and sexual cockiness. They
were both playful and radical.
So
were his live performances: trancelike ruckuses instigated by a large
man with a strange-looking guitar. It was square and he designed it
himself, long before custom guitar shapes became commonplace in rock.
Mr.
Diddley was a wild performer: jumping, lurching, balancing on his toes
and shaking his knees as he wrestled with his instrument, sometimes
playing it above his head. Elvis Presley, it has long been supposed, borrowed from Mr. Diddley’s stage moves; Jimi Hendrix, too.
Still,
for all his fame, Mr. Diddley felt that his standing as a father of
rock ’n’ roll was never properly acknowledged. It frustrated him that he
could never earn royalties from the songs of others who had borrowed
his beat.
“I opened the door for a lot of people, and they just ran through and left me holding the knob,” he told The New York Times in 2003.
He was a hero to those who had learned from him, including the Rolling Stones and the Beatles. A generation later, he became a model of originality to punk or post-punk bands like the Clash and the Fall.
In
1979 Joe Strummer and Paul Simonon of the Clash asked that Mr. Diddley
open for them on the band’s first American tour. “I can’t look at him
without my mouth falling open,” Mr. Strummer, star-struck, said during
the tour.
For
his part Mr. Diddley had no misgivings about facing a skeptical
audience. “You cannot say what people are gonna like or not gonna like,”
he explained later to the biographer George R. White. “You have to
stick it out there and find out! If they taste it, and they like the way
it tastes, you can bet they’ll eat some of it!”
Mr. Diddley was born Otha Ellas Bates in McComb, Miss., a small city about 15 miles from the Louisiana
border. He was reared primarily by Gussie McDaniel, the first cousin of
his mother, Esther Wilson. After the death of her husband, Ms.
McDaniel, who had three children of her own, took the family to Chicago, where young Otha’s name was changed to Ellas B. McDaniel. Gussie McDaniel became his legal guardian and sent him to school.
He
was 6 when the family resettled on Chicago’s South Side. He described
his youth as one of school, church, trouble with street toughs and
playing the violin for both band and orchestra, under the tutelage of O.
W. Frederick, a prominent music teacher at the Ebenezer Baptist Church,
where Gussie McDaniel taught Sunday school. Ellas studied classical
violin from 7 to 15 and started on guitar at 12, when a family member
gave him an acoustic model.
He
then enrolled at Foster Vocational School, where he built a guitar as
well as a violin and an upright bass. But he dropped out before
graduating. Instead, with guitar in hand, he began performing in a duo
with his friend Roosevelt Jackson,
who played the washtub bass. The group became a trio when they added
another guitarist, Jody Williams, then a quartet when they added a
harmonica player, Billy Boy Arnold.
The
band, first called the Hipsters and then the Langley Avenue Jive Cats,
started playing at the Maxwell Street open-air market. They were
sometimes joined by another friend, Samuel Daniel, known as Sandman
because of the shuffling rhythms he made with his feet on a wooden board
sprinkled with sand.
Mr.
Diddley could not make a living playing with the Jive Cats in the early
days, so he found jobs where he could: at a grocery store, a
picture-frame factory, a blacktop company. He worked as an elevator
operator and a meat packer. He also started boxing, hoping to turn
professional.
In
1954 Mr. Diddley made a demonstration recording with his band, which
now included Jerome Green on maracas. Phil and Leonard Chess of Chess
Records liked the demo, especially Mr. Diddley’s tremolo on the guitar, a
sound that seemed to slosh around like water. They saw it as a
promising novelty and encouraged the group to return.
By
Billy Boy Arnold’s account, the next day, as the band and the men who
were soon to be their producers were setting up for a rehearsal, they
were idly casting about for a stage name for Ellas McDaniel when Mr.
Arnold thought of Bo Diddley. The name described a “bow-legged guy, a
comical-looking guy,” Mr. Arnold said, as quoted by Mr. White in his
1995 biography, “Bo Diddley: Living Legend.”
That
may be all there is to tell about the name, except for the fact that a
certain one-string guitar — native to the Mississippi Delta, often
homemade, in which a length of wire is stretched between two nails in a
board — is called a diddley bow. By his account, however, Mr. Diddley
had never played one.
In
any case, Otha Ellas McDaniel had a new name and the title of a new
song, whose lyrics began, “Bo Diddley bought his babe a diamond ring.”
“Bo Diddley” became the A side of his first single, in 1955, on the
Checker label, a subsidiary of Chess. It reached No. 2 on the Billboard
singles chart.
Mr.
Diddley said he had first heard the “Bo Diddley beat” —
three-stroke/rest/two-stroke, or bomp-ba-domp-ba-domp, ba-domp-domp — in
a church in Chicago. But variations of it were in the air. The
children’s game hambone used a similar rhythm, and so did the ditty that
goes “shave and a haircut, two bits.”
The beat is also related to the Afro-Cuban clave, which had been popularized at the time by the New Orleans mambo carnival song “Jock-A-Mo,” recorded by Sugar Boy Crawford in 1953.
Whatever
the source, Mr. Diddley felt the beat’s power. In early songs like “Bo
Diddley” and “Pretty Thing,” he arranged the rhythm for tom-toms,
guitar, maracas and voice, with no cymbals and no bass. (Also arranged
in his signature rhythm was the eerie “Mona,” a song of praise he wrote
for a 45-year-old exotic dancer who worked at the Flame Show Bar in Detroit; this song became the template for Buddy Holly’s “Not Fade Away.”)
Appearing on “The Ed Sullivan
Show” in 1955, Mr. Diddley was asked to play “Sixteen Tons,” the song
popularized by Tennessee Ernie Ford. Without telling Mr. Sullivan, he
played “Bo Diddley” instead. Afterward, in an off-camera confrontation,
Mr. Sullivan told him that he would never work in television again. Mr.
Diddley did not play again on a network show for 10 years.
For
decades Mr. Diddley was bitter about his relationship with the Chess
family, whom he accused of withholding money owed to him. In her book
“Spinning Blues Into Gold,” Nadine Cohodas quoted Marshall Chess,
Leonard’s son, as saying, “What’s missing from Bo’s version of events is
all the gimmes.” Mr. Diddley would borrow so heavily against projected
royalties, Mr. Chess said, that not much was left over in the final
accounting.
Mr.
Diddley’s watery tremolo effect, from 1955 onward, came from one of the
first effects boxes to be manufactured for guitars: the DeArmond Model
60 Tremolo Control. But Mr. Diddley contended that he had already built
something similar himself, with automobile parts and an alarm-clock
spring.
His
first trademark guitar was also handmade: he took the neck and the
circuitry off a Gretsch guitar and connected it to a square body he had
built. In 1958 he asked Gretsch to make him a better one to the same
specifications. Gretsch made it as a limited-edition guitar called “Big B.”
On
songs like “Who Do You Love,” his guitar style — bright chicken-scratch
rhythm patterns on a few strings at a time — was an extension of his
early violin playing, he said.
“My
technique comes from bowing the violin, that fast wrist action,” he
told Mr. White, explaining that his fingers were too big to move around
easily. Rather than fingering the fretboard, Mr. Diddley said, he tuned
the guitar to an open E and moved a single finger up and down to create
chords.
As
his fame rose, his personal life grew complicated. His first marriage,
at 18, to Louise Woolingham, lasted less than a year. His second
marriage, in 1949, to Ethel Smith, unraveled in the late 1950s. He then
moved from Chicago to Washington, settling in the Mount Pleasant district, where he built a studio in his home.
Separated from his wife, he was performing in Birmingham, Ala.,
when, backstage, he met a young door-to-door magazine saleswoman named
Kay Reynolds, a fan, who was 15 and white. They moved in together in
short order and were soon married, in spite of Southern taboos against
intermarriage.
During
the late 1950s Mr. Diddley’s band featured a female guitarist, Peggy
Jones (stage-named Lady Bo), at a time when there were scarcely any
women in rock. She was replaced by Norma-Jean Wofford, whom Mr. Diddley
called the Duchess. He pretended she was his sister, he said, to be in a
better position to protect her on the road.
The
early 1960s were low times. Chess, searching for a hit, had Mr. Diddley
make albums to capitalize on the twist dance craze, as Chubby Checker
had done, and on the surf music of the Beach Boys.
But soon a foreign market for his earlier music began to grow, thanks
in large part to the Rolling Stones, a newly popular band that was
regularly playing several of his songs in its concerts. It paved the way
for Mr. Diddley’s successful tour of Britain in the fall of 1963, performing with the Everly Brothers, Little Richard and the Rolling Stones, the opening act.
But Mr. Diddley was not willing to move to Europe, and in America the picture worsened: the Beatles, the Stones, Bob Dylan and the Byrds quickly made him sound quaint. When work all but dried up, Mr. Diddley moved to New Mexico
in the early 1970s and became a deputy sheriff in the town of Los
Lunas. With his sound updated to resemble hard rock and soul, he
continued to make albums for Chess until his contract expired in 1974.
His
recording career never picked up after that, despite flirtations with
synthesizers, religious rock and hip-hop. But he continued apace as a
performer and public figure, popping up in places both obvious, like
rock ’n’ roll nostalgia revues, and not so obvious: a Nike advertisement, the film “Trading Places” with Eddie Murphy, the 1979 tour with the Clash, and inaugural balls for two presidents, George H. W. Bush and Bill Clinton.
His
last recording was the 1996 album “A Man Amongst Men” (Code
Blue/Atlantic), which was nominated for a Grammy. He was inducted into
the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame
in 1987 and in 1998 was inducted into the National Academy of Recording
Arts and Sciences Hall of Fame as a musician of lasting historical
importance.
Since
the early 1980s Mr. Diddley had lived in Archer, Fla., near
Gainesville, where he owned 76 acres and a recording studio. His
passions were fishing and old cars, including a 1969 purple Cadillac hearse.
The
last of Mr. Diddley’s marriages was to Sylvia Paiz, in 1992; his
spokeswoman, Ms. Clary, said they were no longer married. His survivors
include his children, Evelyn Kelly, Ellas A. McDaniel, Tammi D. McDaniel
and Terri Lynn McDaniel; a brother, the Rev. Kenneth Haynes; and 15
grandchildren, 15 great-grandchildren and three
great-great-grandchildren.
Mr. Diddley attributed his longevity to abstinence from drugs and drinking, but in recent years he had suffered from diabetes.
After a concert in Council Bluffs, Iowa, on May 13, 2007, he had a
stroke and was taken to Creighton University Medical Center in Omaha. On Aug. 28 he suffered a heart attack in Gainesville and was hospitalized.
Mr.
Diddley always believed that he and Chuck Berry had started rock ’n’
roll, and the fact that he couldn’t financially reap all that he had
sowed made him a deeply suspicious man.
“I
tell musicians, ‘Don’t trust nobody but your mama,’ ” he said in an
interview with Rolling Stone magazine in 2005. “And even then, look at
her real good.”