When we were about 10 my cousin and I used to hang out at his house and listen to records. He had the Beatles collection 62-66, which devastated us, completely, but he'd go through his dad's old records, not much, and we listened to some Dean Martin (which didn't do anything for us), old Smothers Brothers records (we liked those), and early Bob Newhart and Bill Cosby (we liked those too). His dad and our moms-sisters were of a certain age too be too young to have gotten caught up in the first flash of rock and roll, then too old to get carried away with the Fabs, Zimmy, and all the other great music of the sixties. (Doubtless too of a certain place: suburban-nowhere, middle class aspirant.) So their smattering of LPs scarcely got us anywhere. But his dad had an old album of Bo Diddley's, and it floored us. One track we played again and again, "Hush Your Mouth," we heard as "Hershey Mouth." We had to look at the jacket to get the title right, and then we fell on the floor laughing. How did his dad ever get this record?
4 RIDERS:
I thought of this too immediately upon hearing the news yesterday. The despair and heartbreak upon learning the tune bore no relation to the confectionery maker was devastating. But those tom tom-backed rhythms will live in my memory for all time. As will the specter of that washing machine sized record player.
Those drums. They really nailed it to the floor, swing was over. They changed me.
This is a nice little memory--thanks for sharing it.
Cookie-Headed Diddley (listen).
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