The original Crickets lineup, Joe Mauldin, Buddy Holly, D.J and concert host Lou Barile, Jerry Allison, and Niki Sullivan, |
The
history of Rock and Roll is replete
with firsts that really weren’t. Almost
anyone will tell you that the first rock and roll song was Rock Around the Clock by Bill Haley and the Comets recorded in
1954 and which shot to the top of the charts the next year. Wrong.
It can only claim to be the first number one hit and/or the first big
hit by White artists covering a Black style.
Some
musicologists claim that songs with
key rock and roll elements were recorded by Black blues artists as early as
1939. But it took ten years and several
technological and economic changes—the introduction of the 45 rpm single and the collapse of the viability of large touring
big bands among them—for Black artists to break out with a new sound on the Rhythm and Blues charts. Two 1949 contenders were Goree Carter’s guitar driven Rock Awhile and Jimmy Preston’s Rock the Joint with a
driving, blaring saxophone lead. In
fact Rock the Joint was covered three
years later by Bill Haley and his earlier band The Saddlemen becoming a minor hit.
Another
Black contender for first rock and roll record is Rocket 88 by Jackie Brenston and his Delta Cats—Ike Turner and The Kings of Rhythm under contract to another label working under a
pseudonym—recorded by Sam Phillips
at Sun Records in Memphis March of 1951.
By
the mid-Fifties, rock and roll was an emerging genre and picking up steam, but
pop charts were still dominated by crooners, close harmony vocal groups—the doo wop sound would emerge from the
street corners out of this genre—and even the surviving big bands. It took Elvis
Presley to send it into the stratosphere.
Presley was the super-nova of a group of Sun Records stars who would
infuse Delta blues and Gospel sounds into a tight, stripped
down country sound. Presley’s first regional hit, That’s
All Right Momma was recorded within months of Rock Around the Clock. Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Johnny
Cash, all recording at Sun along with Presley would define what became
known as Rock-a-billy.
In
1955 Black blues based performers
would drive the beat even harder and introduce a new guitar sound—Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry, and Little Richard. And white acts were hard on their heels
cleaning up lyrics and sanding off raw edges to make their sound acceptable to
white teenagers—and their parents.
By
1957 rock and roll was a cultural steamroller.
So why at this late date does a record by some kids from Lubbock, Texas barely out of their
teens which went to No. 1 on September 24, 2012, rate as seminal in rock
history?
Because
the band, The Crickets, their lead
singer and creative dynamo, Buddy Holly,
and a smart record label assembled at last all of the elements that would
tie together the disparate roots of rock and propel it into a new era. That was the day that That’ll be the Day made
it to the top.
The
Cricket’s line-up—lead, rhythm, and electric bass guitar and drums—stripped away
saxes, horns, stride or boogie-woogie piano, organ, and even the country
fiddles and accordions that were part of earlier combos. This quartet arrangement soon became standard,
capable of delivering a beat heavy, driving sound. The band could sing together in harmony or
put Holly out front. They could take the
themes of teen age love, the stripped down substitute for the raw sex of early
black rock, and run with them in new and creative directions. Perhaps most important, they were the first
white act to consistently write and record their own material instead of either
adapting it from Black artists or using the talents of professional songwriters
like those in the famous Brill
Building. Within a few years bands,
as opposed to solo performers, would dominate rock music and they would be
expected to produce their own songs.
They
were immediately influential. Within a
year other acts were copying their formula.
In the early ‘60’s John Lennon and
Paul McCartney would acknowledge their
debt by naming their band the Beatles, a tip-o’-the-hat to the Crickets.
Influenced
by the Memphis rock-a-billies, Holly and high school pals were experimenting
and making demos as early as
1954. Holly signed with Decca Records in 1956 and recorded
several sides under his own name with the backing of Sonny Curtis, Jerry Allison and Don Guess in Nashville. These records were straight forward
rock-a-billy and were only moderately regionally successful. One of those sides was a version of That’ll be the Day.
Holly
was inspired to write the song after a trip to the local movie palace in Lubbock
with his pals where they saw The Searchers. The words were something of a catch
phrase for John Wayne’s obsessed
character.
In
February 1957 producer Norman Petty brought
Holly and his band, now consisting of drummer Jerry Allison, bassist Joe B. Mauldin, and rhythm guitarist Niki Sullivan to Clovis, New Mexico for a new recordings session for the Brunswick label. Because Holly was under contract as a solo to
Decca, Petty decided to release the resulting recordings under a band
name. After a brief consultation among
the members, they settled on The Crickets after first toying with some “bird”
names.
That’ll Be the Day was released in
May with Holly’s name visible only in the fine print as a composer under the
name of The Crickets, as would all of the subsequent successful releases from
that session. It began its slow rise to
the top. As it did so, Decca discovered
that their artist was one of the Crickets.
They were not overly alarmed, however, because Brunswick was a
subsidy. They signed a new deal with
Holly. The material recorded in
Nashville would be released under his own name on Decca. Anything recorded with the band would be
released as the Crickets. Subsequent
solo efforts by Holly would go out on yet another subsidy label, Coral.
As That’ll
Be the Day
was nearing the peak of its climb, Decca released the Nashville version under
Holly’s name on September 7 as a B side to Rock Around With Ollie Vee. It was not a hit, but made it to Holly’s solo
LP.
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