 |
| Yeah, no. Not even he could be drunk enough... |
Some discrepancies betwixt the sources in this one. And some guns...
The Hit
I have a personal connection to Gene Vincent’s “Be-Bop-a-Lula”: my dad used to wake me for Sunday school with renditions of old rock ‘n’ roll songs, all of them flat as they were loud.
Vincent sang his signature song differently, obviously (again, that was my dad waking me for Sunday school), with pinched, passionate phrasing that hinted at a man on the edge of ecstasy and a far from accidental dash of Elvis. The backing music – heavy on twang, surprisingly muted, but steady, steady, steady – lacks the sound and fury of some of the early rock records, and it turns out that’s the drummer, Dickie Harrell, screaming in the background because he wanted to prove to his mom that was him playing on the single.
Sources disagree how the song came together, but they all agree on where: in the U.S. Naval Hospital in Portsmouth, Virginia, where Vincent spent about half a year recovering from the motorcycle accident that shattered his leg (and almost saw it amputated). As for the how, a couple sources hold that a fellow patient named Don Graves wrote the words – with one source crediting a local stripper for the inspiration – while Vincent filled in the music. Other sources say Vincent bought the song, another says Vincent’s future manager, “Sheriff Tex” Davis, bought it while another has Davis claiming he wrote it with Vincent. Wikipedia’s entry on the song seconds a secondary theory in another source in saying that the inspiration came from the old Little Lulu comic strip, but that came from Vincent who admitted to rescuing that story from a blackout. Of which Vincent had many. So, let’s talk about how that happened...
The Rest of the Story, Briefly
He was born Vincent Eugene Craddock to Mary Louise and Ezekiah Jackson Craddock in Norfolk, Virginia in February of 1935, but his formative experiences happened in a small Virginia town called Munden Point. Vincent’s parents ran a general store in the town that did well enough that they could buy young Vincent a guitar. His first taste of music came from the old Grand Ole Opry mega broadcasts, but the move to Munden Point introduced him to black musical styles like gospel and blues. Once he had that guitar, he’d sit at the front of the store learning as he played; some of the locals egged him on by asking him to play.
His struggles in school, both socially (scrawny kid) and scholastically, led him to drop out at age 17 to join the U.S. Navy (his dad signed the papers). He served during the Korean War, without seeing any action, but liked either Navy life enough, or the money, to re-enlist for another five-year hitch in 1955. Vincent traded his re-enlistment bonus for the Triumph motorcycle that would get nailed by a car (possibly driven by a drunk) in short order and, more or less, destroy his leg. This is another place where sources disagree, but most of them agree he started wearing the “heavy metal brace” everyone mentions after this vehicular accident, as opposed to the later one. Something else that came with that brace: Vincent’s booze and pain pill habit.
All the above brings the story to the decisive “but for” of this tale: by all accounts, Gene Vincent would have continued in the Navy (at least for some years), and mostly chose music out of boredom. And yet, he had enough knowledge and interest that he worked up a collection of singles during his convalescence and had them in hand when the next event came along - though it’s unclear as to what particular event that was. (Again) one source says Vincent had already started playing around Norfolk with his backing band, the Blue Caps (name inspired by hats worn in the Navy), while another starts his (musical) origin story with a performing Elvis Presley's “Heartbreak Hotel” at a talent show audition with one judge “Sheriff Tex” Davis presiding; those stories aren’t mutually exclusive, obviously, but they do, however, run into other discrepancies, specifically, did Vincent bring the Blue Caps with him to the first recording sessions, or did Davis (along with station manager/Davis’ employer at WCMS, Roy Lamear, and booking agent Sy Blumenthal) provide the backing band? Wherever it came from, the original Blue Caps included “Willie Williams on rhythm guitar (replaced in late 1956 by Paul Peek), Jack Neal on upright bass, Dickie Harrell on drums, and Cliff Gallup on lead guitar.” Just to note it, Gallup has a strong rep as a guitarist. He influenced an array of future stars ranging from Dave Edmunds to Bryan Setzer to Jerry Garcia.
The sessions happened in any event, and the singles that came out were “Be-Bop-a-Lula,” “Race with the Devil,” “Woman Love” and “I Sure Miss You” - and the search for the "next Elvis" really comes through on that last one. When the demos ultimately passed to Capitol Records, they released a 45 that had “Woman Love” on the A-side and “Be-Bop-a-Lula” on the B. And, as has happened literally every time since the beginning of this relaunched series, not a lot happened until a Baltimore-based DJ flipped the 45. Once set free into the world, "Be-Bop-a-Lula" sold like hotcakes, Vincent hit the big time, and...well, he wasn’t ready for it:
“Listen, I never wanted to make money. I never wanted it. I'm a singer, man. My only thought was just to make a living singing. But all of a sudden I was getting $1500 a night.... It shouldn't have happened on that first record. I just didn't know how to handle it.”
The best word to describe the rest of Vincent’s life is turmoil. Touring, playing and (alleged?) womanizing killed three of his four marriages, with an ever-growing addiction to booze and painkillers fueling it all. He did score a follow-up hit (which made it to No. 13, so, no, not a one-hit wonder) with 1957’s “Lotta Lovin’,” and he had minor hits with “Blue Jean Bop” (solid song, fwiw), but other famous singles like “Race with the Devil” didn't fare as well (radio was leery because "devil") and the Blue Caps fell apart one or two members at a time by 1959 and the IRS chased him to Europe by 1960 for back taxes owed. As he said, he just didn’t know how to handle it.
In keeping with the theme, the move to Europe gave him a new lease on life, even if it didn't touch some fundamentals. The pills and booze remained – in fact, they got worse – but Europe, and the UK in particular, had enough catching up to do on the whole rock ‘n’ roll thing to make Vincent a kind of herald/apostle for the genre. Vincent also recorded the first of his latter year albums over there. While I didn’t listen to every album – e.g., Gene Vincent, I’m Back and I’m Proud, The Day the World Turned Blue, and Crazy Times, yes, and Shakin’ Up a Storm (mostly) no – he did try to evolve with the times, and the only truly bad/exhausted material appears on I’m Back and I’m Proud. Sadly, his bad luck followed him across the Atlantic and it came with a particularly cruel twist: on April 16, 1960, Vincent was involved in the second terrible crash of his life, one that broke his ribs and collarbone, on top of re-injuring his leg, broke Sharon Sheeley’s pelvis and killed his good friend, Eddie Cochran.
In most ways, Gene Vincent ended his days as a working musician, something that wouldn’t sound half as bad had he not died at the too-young age of 36. By at least one account, he’d so rotted out his insides by then that all it only took a fall to commence the fatal internal bleeding.
The Hit
I have a personal connection to Gene Vincent’s “Be-Bop-a-Lula”: my dad used to wake me for Sunday school with renditions of old rock ‘n’ roll songs, all of them flat as they were loud.
Vincent sang his signature song differently, obviously (again, that was my dad waking me for Sunday school), with pinched, passionate phrasing that hinted at a man on the edge of ecstasy and a far from accidental dash of Elvis. The backing music – heavy on twang, surprisingly muted, but steady, steady, steady – lacks the sound and fury of some of the early rock records, and it turns out that’s the drummer, Dickie Harrell, screaming in the background because he wanted to prove to his mom that was him playing on the single.
Sources disagree how the song came together, but they all agree on where: in the U.S. Naval Hospital in Portsmouth, Virginia, where Vincent spent about half a year recovering from the motorcycle accident that shattered his leg (and almost saw it amputated). As for the how, a couple sources hold that a fellow patient named Don Graves wrote the words – with one source crediting a local stripper for the inspiration – while Vincent filled in the music. Other sources say Vincent bought the song, another says Vincent’s future manager, “Sheriff Tex” Davis, bought it while another has Davis claiming he wrote it with Vincent. Wikipedia’s entry on the song seconds a secondary theory in another source in saying that the inspiration came from the old Little Lulu comic strip, but that came from Vincent who admitted to rescuing that story from a blackout. Of which Vincent had many. So, let’s talk about how that happened...
The Rest of the Story, Briefly
He was born Vincent Eugene Craddock to Mary Louise and Ezekiah Jackson Craddock in Norfolk, Virginia in February of 1935, but his formative experiences happened in a small Virginia town called Munden Point. Vincent’s parents ran a general store in the town that did well enough that they could buy young Vincent a guitar. His first taste of music came from the old Grand Ole Opry mega broadcasts, but the move to Munden Point introduced him to black musical styles like gospel and blues. Once he had that guitar, he’d sit at the front of the store learning as he played; some of the locals egged him on by asking him to play.
His struggles in school, both socially (scrawny kid) and scholastically, led him to drop out at age 17 to join the U.S. Navy (his dad signed the papers). He served during the Korean War, without seeing any action, but liked either Navy life enough, or the money, to re-enlist for another five-year hitch in 1955. Vincent traded his re-enlistment bonus for the Triumph motorcycle that would get nailed by a car (possibly driven by a drunk) in short order and, more or less, destroy his leg. This is another place where sources disagree, but most of them agree he started wearing the “heavy metal brace” everyone mentions after this vehicular accident, as opposed to the later one. Something else that came with that brace: Vincent’s booze and pain pill habit.
All the above brings the story to the decisive “but for” of this tale: by all accounts, Gene Vincent would have continued in the Navy (at least for some years), and mostly chose music out of boredom. And yet, he had enough knowledge and interest that he worked up a collection of singles during his convalescence and had them in hand when the next event came along - though it’s unclear as to what particular event that was. (Again) one source says Vincent had already started playing around Norfolk with his backing band, the Blue Caps (name inspired by hats worn in the Navy), while another starts his (musical) origin story with a performing Elvis Presley's “Heartbreak Hotel” at a talent show audition with one judge “Sheriff Tex” Davis presiding; those stories aren’t mutually exclusive, obviously, but they do, however, run into other discrepancies, specifically, did Vincent bring the Blue Caps with him to the first recording sessions, or did Davis (along with station manager/Davis’ employer at WCMS, Roy Lamear, and booking agent Sy Blumenthal) provide the backing band? Wherever it came from, the original Blue Caps included “Willie Williams on rhythm guitar (replaced in late 1956 by Paul Peek), Jack Neal on upright bass, Dickie Harrell on drums, and Cliff Gallup on lead guitar.” Just to note it, Gallup has a strong rep as a guitarist. He influenced an array of future stars ranging from Dave Edmunds to Bryan Setzer to Jerry Garcia.
The sessions happened in any event, and the singles that came out were “Be-Bop-a-Lula,” “Race with the Devil,” “Woman Love” and “I Sure Miss You” - and the search for the "next Elvis" really comes through on that last one. When the demos ultimately passed to Capitol Records, they released a 45 that had “Woman Love” on the A-side and “Be-Bop-a-Lula” on the B. And, as has happened literally every time since the beginning of this relaunched series, not a lot happened until a Baltimore-based DJ flipped the 45. Once set free into the world, "Be-Bop-a-Lula" sold like hotcakes, Vincent hit the big time, and...well, he wasn’t ready for it:
“Listen, I never wanted to make money. I never wanted it. I'm a singer, man. My only thought was just to make a living singing. But all of a sudden I was getting $1500 a night.... It shouldn't have happened on that first record. I just didn't know how to handle it.”
The best word to describe the rest of Vincent’s life is turmoil. Touring, playing and (alleged?) womanizing killed three of his four marriages, with an ever-growing addiction to booze and painkillers fueling it all. He did score a follow-up hit (which made it to No. 13, so, no, not a one-hit wonder) with 1957’s “Lotta Lovin’,” and he had minor hits with “Blue Jean Bop” (solid song, fwiw), but other famous singles like “Race with the Devil” didn't fare as well (radio was leery because "devil") and the Blue Caps fell apart one or two members at a time by 1959 and the IRS chased him to Europe by 1960 for back taxes owed. As he said, he just didn’t know how to handle it.
In keeping with the theme, the move to Europe gave him a new lease on life, even if it didn't touch some fundamentals. The pills and booze remained – in fact, they got worse – but Europe, and the UK in particular, had enough catching up to do on the whole rock ‘n’ roll thing to make Vincent a kind of herald/apostle for the genre. Vincent also recorded the first of his latter year albums over there. While I didn’t listen to every album – e.g., Gene Vincent, I’m Back and I’m Proud, The Day the World Turned Blue, and Crazy Times, yes, and Shakin’ Up a Storm (mostly) no – he did try to evolve with the times, and the only truly bad/exhausted material appears on I’m Back and I’m Proud. Sadly, his bad luck followed him across the Atlantic and it came with a particularly cruel twist: on April 16, 1960, Vincent was involved in the second terrible crash of his life, one that broke his ribs and collarbone, on top of re-injuring his leg, broke Sharon Sheeley’s pelvis and killed his good friend, Eddie Cochran.
In most ways, Gene Vincent ended his days as a working musician, something that wouldn’t sound half as bad had he not died at the too-young age of 36. By at least one account, he’d so rotted out his insides by then that all it only took a fall to commence the fatal internal bleeding.
 |
| That "wide stance" was only a half-choice. |
3 Points of Interest
1) Making the Most of What You Got
Even with sources conflicting, they all agree there was never a point in Gene Vincent’s musical career that he didn’t have to work around a bad leg. He adjusted for that by striking what can only be described as a justifiably rigid interpretation of a rockstar stance. Moreover, all sources agree he delivered energetic live performances.
2) Yeah, But They Probably Weren’t as Good Back Then...
After he broke up the Blue Caps, and no doubt to due to his personal, overall instability, Vincent cobbled together backing bands for a lot, if not most, of his performances. When the originally-planned backing band failed to show up to one of his performances for a 1962 show in Hamburg, Germany, an up-and-coming band from Liverpool (maybe? or was that too soon?) called The Beatles backed him up for a show or two. Another remarkable thing about that era (this is from Wikipedia):
“In 1962 Vincent was on the same bill as the Beatles in Hamburg; Paul McCartney recalled an incident with a pistol at Vincent's girlfriend's hotel.”
If the incident created any hard feelings, they didn’t stick around. When the Beatles played their famous show in Shea Stadium in 1963, Vincent opened for them with a rare regular backing band called Sounds Incorporated. But the thing with pulling guns on people was something of a theme...
3) Gene Vincent Pulled a Gun on a Lot of People
Seriously. If you look at the Wikipedia post in particular, you’ll read reports of Vincent threatening people with violence a minimum of three times. It’s hard to pull for an armed man half out of his mind...at least until you hear he pulled a gun on Gary Glitter and start to wonder if something like that is always a bad idea.
Sources
Wikipedia – Gene Vincent (it’s hard to tell what’s what with this one, but still pretty thin)
Wikipedia – “Be-Bop-a-Lula”
History of Rock bio (a decent narrative, even if I have questions)
Musician Guide bio (pretty beefy, but also a reliable source of disagreement)
What Happened to Gene Vincent, mini-documentary (video)
The Sampler
Because Gene Vincent had a longer and (slightly) more varied catalog than I expected, I went a little nuts with this sampler, winding up on 25 songs total. I’ve already linked to a few above, and I appreciate that the way I link to the rest won’t align perfectly with Vincent’s actual discography – all these come from Spotify collections - but, in the order in which they appear to have been released:
Rockabilly Era
Gene Vincent Rocks! And the Blue Caps Roll!: “Brand New Beat,” “By the Light of the Silvery Moon,” and “Rollin’ Danny.” The middle one’s a smooth pop tune in the 1940s/50s sense.
Sounds Like Gene Vincent: “I Can’t Believe You Want to Leave” and “Ready Teddy”
Dance to the Bop: “Cruisin’,” “Baby Blue,” “Beautiful Brown Eyes” (lovely tune, btw), and, Vincent’s third biggest hit, “Dance to the Bop”
A Detour into Pop
Crazy Times: “Darlene” (okay, that one's old school), “Big Fat Saturday Night,” and the more-than-dated, slightly tacky, “Mitchiko from Tokyo”
The Later, Folkier/Hippy Stuff
Ain’t That Too Much: “Bird Doggin’” and “Words and Music”
Gene Vincent: “I Need a Woman’s Love,” “500 Miles” and “If Only You Could See Me Today”
The Day the World Turned Blue: “Our Souls” and (good tune) “High on Life”
I’m Back and I’m Proud: “In the Pines.” Fuck it, he made it his own...
Yeah, it’s a cheap shot, but I only included the last one to show how rough things got toward the end. And, with that, till the next chapter...
1) Making the Most of What You Got
Even with sources conflicting, they all agree there was never a point in Gene Vincent’s musical career that he didn’t have to work around a bad leg. He adjusted for that by striking what can only be described as a justifiably rigid interpretation of a rockstar stance. Moreover, all sources agree he delivered energetic live performances.
2) Yeah, But They Probably Weren’t as Good Back Then...
After he broke up the Blue Caps, and no doubt to due to his personal, overall instability, Vincent cobbled together backing bands for a lot, if not most, of his performances. When the originally-planned backing band failed to show up to one of his performances for a 1962 show in Hamburg, Germany, an up-and-coming band from Liverpool (maybe? or was that too soon?) called The Beatles backed him up for a show or two. Another remarkable thing about that era (this is from Wikipedia):
“In 1962 Vincent was on the same bill as the Beatles in Hamburg; Paul McCartney recalled an incident with a pistol at Vincent's girlfriend's hotel.”
If the incident created any hard feelings, they didn’t stick around. When the Beatles played their famous show in Shea Stadium in 1963, Vincent opened for them with a rare regular backing band called Sounds Incorporated. But the thing with pulling guns on people was something of a theme...
3) Gene Vincent Pulled a Gun on a Lot of People
Seriously. If you look at the Wikipedia post in particular, you’ll read reports of Vincent threatening people with violence a minimum of three times. It’s hard to pull for an armed man half out of his mind...at least until you hear he pulled a gun on Gary Glitter and start to wonder if something like that is always a bad idea.
Sources
Wikipedia – Gene Vincent (it’s hard to tell what’s what with this one, but still pretty thin)
Wikipedia – “Be-Bop-a-Lula”
History of Rock bio (a decent narrative, even if I have questions)
Musician Guide bio (pretty beefy, but also a reliable source of disagreement)
What Happened to Gene Vincent, mini-documentary (video)
The Sampler
Because Gene Vincent had a longer and (slightly) more varied catalog than I expected, I went a little nuts with this sampler, winding up on 25 songs total. I’ve already linked to a few above, and I appreciate that the way I link to the rest won’t align perfectly with Vincent’s actual discography – all these come from Spotify collections - but, in the order in which they appear to have been released:
Rockabilly Era
Gene Vincent Rocks! And the Blue Caps Roll!: “Brand New Beat,” “By the Light of the Silvery Moon,” and “Rollin’ Danny.” The middle one’s a smooth pop tune in the 1940s/50s sense.
Sounds Like Gene Vincent: “I Can’t Believe You Want to Leave” and “Ready Teddy”
Dance to the Bop: “Cruisin’,” “Baby Blue,” “Beautiful Brown Eyes” (lovely tune, btw), and, Vincent’s third biggest hit, “Dance to the Bop”
A Detour into Pop
Crazy Times: “Darlene” (okay, that one's old school), “Big Fat Saturday Night,” and the more-than-dated, slightly tacky, “Mitchiko from Tokyo”
The Later, Folkier/Hippy Stuff
Ain’t That Too Much: “Bird Doggin’” and “Words and Music”
Gene Vincent: “I Need a Woman’s Love,” “500 Miles” and “If Only You Could See Me Today”
The Day the World Turned Blue: “Our Souls” and (good tune) “High on Life”
I’m Back and I’m Proud: “In the Pines.” Fuck it, he made it his own...
Yeah, it’s a cheap shot, but I only included the last one to show how rough things got toward the end. And, with that, till the next chapter...
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