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A Georgia Peach Rolls In Orange County

Hey Soul Mates,
Saturday night, I managed to have a full audience with the Monarch of Rock and Roll. The Architect. The Originator. That's right, we went to see Little Richard at the House of Blues in Anaheim. It was the perfect venue for him. Large stage. SRO crowd. Richard doesn't do a lot of shows and with the recent passings of Ray Charles, Johnny Cash and James Brown, the audience was ready to show their appreciation for this true survivor.

At show time, the curtains parted to reveal a 9 piece band (4 horns, guitarist, bassist, keyboards, and 2 drummers), who did a particularly mean opening blast of classic R&B and funk riffing. Little Richard emerged from the wings in a gold suit dripping with sequins. Even his golden Cuban heeled boots were dazzling. The venue roared its welcome and applauded for several minutes solid before anything else could happen, Little Richard balanced on the lip of the stage flashing his 36 million record selling smile. He came out on crutches however (apparently suffering from sciatic nerve issues. I know what that pain is.); but once he was seated at his piano he was ready to rock. The only problem was, no one teched the house's electric grand piano and minutes went by as the crew struggled to fix the thing. Oddly enough, Richard urged the roadies to simply bring out the Korg keyboard from the back, which was then place on top of the grand. Ah, technology. As a result, Little Richard led the band through a smoldering version of Directly From My Heart. A valiant effort.

The show never got on track though. The lead sax player was beset by mic'ing problems early on and the momentum was lost. Little Richard worked valiantly to bring the audience back up to its initial fervor with Good Golly Miss Molly, Lucille, All Around The World and a brilliant vocal impersonation of Ray Charles on I Got A Woman. Unfortunately, the show had the feel of a family reunion and Richard would take four or five minutes in between songs to show off family members or reminisce about friends past and present. Here's where Bob Dylan has it right. Play your songs. Talk if you must, tell an anecdote, but play your songs. Lots of them. In whole.

Some numbers were mere snippets. The apocalyptic Tutti Frutti was reduced to a half-tempo sing-a-long of the chorus only, sung mainly by Richard's band leader. When Richard did step up to the plate to sing his signature line, the place erupted with joy. You see, his voice is still an glorious instrument. Little Richard can still out-"Wooooooooo!" any sucker in the known universe. All of that great coloring, inflection and attack present on his historic '50's sides are intact. His piano playing skills haven't diminished. But the show was a shambles and there was no hiding it.

The audience remained loyal through the show. Cheering loudly for every "Shut Up!" and applauding each of the relations Little Richard introduced in the balcony. Everyone hoping that the next song would be more than a vamp. Sometimes that wish came true. Like on a thrilling take of Jenny, Jenny. His best performance was on his 1964 comeback single Bama Lama, Bama Loo, a full-throated and full-throttle rock and roll assault that brought everyone closer to greatness. But for each of those performances there were lengthy cover versions of Old Time Rock and Roll and I Know It's Only Rock and Roll that never strayed from the hook (that's when a verse can be a relief) and featured atrocious dancing on stage by audience members.

But don't get me wrong. I wouldn't have missed that show for much in this world. Little Richard is still the Undisputed King of Rock and Roll. He still looks great and sounds fantastic. Perhaps to see him somewhere where he has fewer family members in the audience would have helped. But Little Richard will be 75 this year and as he himself said, "don't know how many times I'll get back here." Exactly. Rock on Richard. I've got nothing but love for you. Wooooooooooooooooo!!

[On a completely random note, Black Sabbath's guitar legend, Tony Iommi, was standing right behind me at the show. But I know all of those early metal/hard rockers adored the likes of Little Richard and Elvis]

###

In other news, my Georgetown Hoyas had a great weekend. Winning the Big East men's basketball tournament. This is the best they've done since I was there. My homeboy Christo must be dancing on the ceiling. Watch out! Allow me to put it in verse.

There's a Thompson on the bench
and a Ewing on the floor
Shades of "Hoya Saxa"
1984!


Have a great week. I'm going to succumb to March Madness. Let it wash over me like a warm embryonic bath. Ha ha.
Love, Power, Peace

Comments

Unknown said…
Move over, Dick Enberg! No, wait, MOVE OVER, BILLY PACKER! Oh, my. What rocks, baby.
Anonymous said…
Ya know..I was so hoping my alma mater (Univ. of Maryland) would be in the same bracket as the Hoyas..BUT..the powers that be decided to put them in the same bracket as the defending champs Florida..of course!! And the hits just keep on coming :)
Unknown said…
Norm, take THAT for an embryonic bath.

Mr. Anonymous, sorry. NOT! How's S.A.?

-Fearless
"All the news that gives you fits."
Anonymous said…
Uuhggghhh..MD played like amarillo dung..was secretly hoping G'town would lose so I wouldn't get lip from my bro-in-law...Now I have to hear "HOYA SAXA" for the next year..is it a coincidence that Ewing Jr is wearing #33..hhmmnnn...It's March It's Mad It's Awesome Baby!!!!!!!
-CP numero quatro (have to use Spanglish now since my residence is so close to Mexico)
Unknown said…
To reiterate... and this refers NOT to armadillo dung's density or... or... hardness...

What rocks, baby.

-Fearless
"All the news that gives you fits."

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