So long, Bo Diddley
Rock Innovator, influence on Stones, Dies
Bloomberg
Published: Monday, June 02, 2008
Bo Diddley, the rock 'n' roll originator with the rectangular guitar whose signature beat influenced musicians from Buddy Holly to the Rolling Stones, the Grateful Dead and Bruce Springsteen, has died.
He was 79.
He died at his home in Archer, Fla., early Monday, according to his publicist, Susan Clary. The cause was heart failure.
In May 2007, he suffered a stroke during a performance in Council Bluffs, Iowa.
Diddley scored only a few hits in more than 40 years of recording, yet his impact on the development of rock 'n' roll places him in a pantheon with Chuck Berry and Little Richard.
The maracas-fuelled sound he introduced in 1955 on the song Bo Diddley evolved into what Rolling Stone magazine called "the most plagiarized rhythm of the 20th century."
The beat - bomp a-bomp a-bomp bomp bomp - became the driving force on songs such as Holly's Not Fade Away (1957), which the Stones recorded and the Dead used in live shows for years; Johnny Otis's Willie and the Hand Jive (1958); the Strangeloves' I Want Candy (1965); The Who's Magic Bus (1968); the Stooges' 1969; Springsteen's She's the One (1975); and U2's Desire (1988).
The Stones' version of Not Fade Away in 1964 became their first top-10 hit in the United Kingdom and their first U.S. release. In its early days, the band often opened its shows with the number.
The distorted tremolo sound Diddley achieved on his guitar, which was souped up with electronic gadgets, expanded the instrument's range and influenced a generation of musicians such as Jeff Beck of the Yardbirds (which made Diddley's "I'm a Man" one of its show-stoppers), Keith Richards of the Stones, Jimi Hendrix and a legion of 1960s fuzz-tone garage rockers.
The man who would become Bo Diddley was born Ellas Otha Bates on Dec. 30, 1928 in McComb, Miss. His mother, who was about 15, asked her first cousin, Gussie McDaniel, to raise the child. Diddley never knew his father.
After Gussie McDaniel moved her family to Chicago in 1935, she changed the child's last name to Bates McDaniel. Ellas McDaniel attended public school, where he learned how to box. At one point, he dreamed of becoming a prizefighter.
He formed a band called the Hipsters, which played on street corners before landing a regular spot at a South Side juke joint called the 708 Club. He electrified his guitar using old radio parts and other gadgets, which created the famous vibrating tone.
He gave bandmate Jerome Green maracas he had jerry-built from the floating rubber balls found inside toilet tanks, filled with black-eyed peas.
In 1955, Diddley signed with Checkers, a subsidiary of Chess, the label that featured Chuck Berry.
His debut single was the Bo Diddley, backed with I'm a Man.
The record, which topped the R&B charts for two weeks, is considered one of the cornerstones of rock music.
It's one of the most influential two-sided singles ever.
After the Beatles led the British invasion, Diddley's popularity waned, though he continued to tour relentlessly for the next four decades. In 1966, he released the album The Originator.
In 1967, after moving to California, he made his debut at the Fillmore West in San Francisco, bringing his electrifying sound to the Summer of Love crowd.
Even though rock music changed, his influence never subsided. The Clash, the seminal British punk band, asked him to open for the group on its first major U.S. tour in 1979.
In 1982, Diddley was introduced to the MTV generation through the video of Bad to the Bone by George Thorogood and the Destroyers. He and Thorogood play a game of pool while billiards legend Willie Mosconi looks on.
In 1987, Diddley was inducted into the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame.
Two years later he appeared in a Nike commercial, telling baseball and football star Bo Jackson,
"Bo, you don't know Diddley."
He was married four times, most recently in 1992 to Sylvia Paiz, according to the Internet Movie Database Web site. Three earlier marriages ended in divorce. He had four children.
He received a lifetime achievement award at the Rhythm and Blues Foundation Pioneer Awards in Los Angeles in 1996.
He was also honored with a lifetime Grammy Award.
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By Dave Alvin, of the The L.A. Times
http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/la-et-boappreciation4-2008jun04,0,7947308.story
The night Bo Diddley banned the Beat
How do you play with a legend without doing it the legendary way?
By learning his lesson of keeping himself new.
To say that we were upset by his announcement/warning would be an understatement. How could you play Bo Diddley songs and not play the powerful, infectious and sensual Bo Diddley Beat?
Since Bo's first records for the Chess label back in the mid-'50s, his "Beat" (a primal and relentless mix of the old shave-and-a-haircut riff, Chicago blues grooves and Latin rhythms), had been borrowed, stolen or adapted by everyone from Buddy Holly to the Rolling Stones to David Bowie for their own hit records.
Now, even though Bo had utilized various permutations of the beat over the course of his long career, he was asking us to abandon it entirely in favor of . . . What? It's sort of like asking an actor to do Hamlet, but don't use any of Shakespeare's words.
Blasters drummer Bill Bateman and X drummer DJ Bonebreak, who were sharing the drum and percussion duties for the night, asked Bo to clarify what beat they should play. He tapped out some rhythm that stressed a different accent but, to be honest, I couldn't tell what the difference was. Fortunately, Bill and DJ picked up on his instructions and by the end of the first song Bo seemed pretty happy.
It was a very good band, with Bill and DJ teaming up for the essential duties on drums, timbales and maracas, X's John Doe and Blasters bassist John Bazz sharing the bass position while my brother Phil, who also played some harmonica, and I followed Bo as best we could on guitars.
Most of the songs in the first set were new songs that Bo had recently recorded but none of us had ever heard, let alone studied. We (and just about every other musician in the modern age) had been dissecting all of his old records for years with the passion of theology students pouring over the Dead Sea scrolls or physicists debating string theory. A couple of the songs in the set were straight blues that easily fell into a comfortable pocket, but the rest were extended one-chord, semi-funk jams that wound up sounding as much like "Bitches Brew"-era Miles Davis as they did classic Bo Diddley.
As the set progressed and I began to get comfortable with Bo's new beats, I started thinking that it was close-minded of me to expect him to play the old songs the same old way. Wasn't Bo Diddley as much of a musical revolutionary as Bob Dylan? Weren't his original recordings of "Mona" or "Who Do You Love" as musically unique, pivotal and influential in their day as Dylan's?
Maybe Bo wasn't the genius lyricist that Dylan is but in rock 'n' roll (or blues and folk), lyrics aren't everything. If Dylan could change the melodies, grooves and even lyrics to his songs in order to keep exploring the possibilities of his art, why couldn't Bo Diddley?
Some people would argue that Bo was one of the architects of funk and, if that's the case, why shouldn't he be allowed to follow his own rhythmic path to wherever it might lead him?
Why should Bo Diddley have to be stuck in the past just because that's where a part of his audience (and perhaps his backing bands) wanted him to remain?
I remember smiling on stage like a goofball as I realized all of this and came to the conclusion that if you really dig Bo Diddley, then let Bo Diddley be Bo Diddley!
I was a young guy at the time who was trying his best to replicate old music -- and that's the best way to learn, believe me -- but that night Bo taught me a lesson about growing and surviving as an musician/artist: Stay true to yourself.
After the first set I approached Bo backstage and told him what I had been thinking while I played with him. "That's right," he said laughing. "I already made all them old records years ago. Now I'm keeping myself new."
But as we walked back onstage for the second set, Bo turned to us, smiled and said, "You know, you boys are pretty good, so I'll tell what: The first song is gonna be 'Mona' and you can play with the Bo Diddley beat." And we did.
Thank you Bo, for all your incredible music over the years and, especially, the wise life lesson you taught me.
Singer, songwriter and guitarist Dave Alvin has been a member of the Blasters, X and the Knitters and leads his own roots-rock group, the Guilty Men.
http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/la-et-boappreciation4-2008jun04,0,7947308.story
Rest in peace sir.
IMB
Rock Innovator, influence on Stones, Dies
Bloomberg
Published: Monday, June 02, 2008
Bo Diddley, the rock 'n' roll originator with the rectangular guitar whose signature beat influenced musicians from Buddy Holly to the Rolling Stones, the Grateful Dead and Bruce Springsteen, has died.
He was 79.
He died at his home in Archer, Fla., early Monday, according to his publicist, Susan Clary. The cause was heart failure.
In May 2007, he suffered a stroke during a performance in Council Bluffs, Iowa.
Diddley scored only a few hits in more than 40 years of recording, yet his impact on the development of rock 'n' roll places him in a pantheon with Chuck Berry and Little Richard.
The maracas-fuelled sound he introduced in 1955 on the song Bo Diddley evolved into what Rolling Stone magazine called "the most plagiarized rhythm of the 20th century."
The beat - bomp a-bomp a-bomp bomp bomp - became the driving force on songs such as Holly's Not Fade Away (1957), which the Stones recorded and the Dead used in live shows for years; Johnny Otis's Willie and the Hand Jive (1958); the Strangeloves' I Want Candy (1965); The Who's Magic Bus (1968); the Stooges' 1969; Springsteen's She's the One (1975); and U2's Desire (1988).
The Stones' version of Not Fade Away in 1964 became their first top-10 hit in the United Kingdom and their first U.S. release. In its early days, the band often opened its shows with the number.
The distorted tremolo sound Diddley achieved on his guitar, which was souped up with electronic gadgets, expanded the instrument's range and influenced a generation of musicians such as Jeff Beck of the Yardbirds (which made Diddley's "I'm a Man" one of its show-stoppers), Keith Richards of the Stones, Jimi Hendrix and a legion of 1960s fuzz-tone garage rockers.
The man who would become Bo Diddley was born Ellas Otha Bates on Dec. 30, 1928 in McComb, Miss. His mother, who was about 15, asked her first cousin, Gussie McDaniel, to raise the child. Diddley never knew his father.
After Gussie McDaniel moved her family to Chicago in 1935, she changed the child's last name to Bates McDaniel. Ellas McDaniel attended public school, where he learned how to box. At one point, he dreamed of becoming a prizefighter.
He formed a band called the Hipsters, which played on street corners before landing a regular spot at a South Side juke joint called the 708 Club. He electrified his guitar using old radio parts and other gadgets, which created the famous vibrating tone.
He gave bandmate Jerome Green maracas he had jerry-built from the floating rubber balls found inside toilet tanks, filled with black-eyed peas.
In 1955, Diddley signed with Checkers, a subsidiary of Chess, the label that featured Chuck Berry.
His debut single was the Bo Diddley, backed with I'm a Man.
The record, which topped the R&B charts for two weeks, is considered one of the cornerstones of rock music.
It's one of the most influential two-sided singles ever.
After the Beatles led the British invasion, Diddley's popularity waned, though he continued to tour relentlessly for the next four decades. In 1966, he released the album The Originator.
In 1967, after moving to California, he made his debut at the Fillmore West in San Francisco, bringing his electrifying sound to the Summer of Love crowd.
Even though rock music changed, his influence never subsided. The Clash, the seminal British punk band, asked him to open for the group on its first major U.S. tour in 1979.
In 1982, Diddley was introduced to the MTV generation through the video of Bad to the Bone by George Thorogood and the Destroyers. He and Thorogood play a game of pool while billiards legend Willie Mosconi looks on.
In 1987, Diddley was inducted into the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame.
Two years later he appeared in a Nike commercial, telling baseball and football star Bo Jackson,
"Bo, you don't know Diddley."
He was married four times, most recently in 1992 to Sylvia Paiz, according to the Internet Movie Database Web site. Three earlier marriages ended in divorce. He had four children.
He received a lifetime achievement award at the Rhythm and Blues Foundation Pioneer Awards in Los Angeles in 1996.
He was also honored with a lifetime Grammy Award.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
By Dave Alvin, of the The L.A. Times
http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/la-et-boappreciation4-2008jun04,0,7947308.story
The night Bo Diddley banned the Beat
How do you play with a legend without doing it the legendary way?
By learning his lesson of keeping himself new.
That was the first thing Bo Diddley said to us before we walked onto the stage of the Music Machine club in West L.A. for two sets back in 1983. We were a mix of members of the Blasters and X who had agreed, with great enthusiasm, to back up one of our greatest heroes for free at a benefit show for the Southern California Blues Society.
To say that we were upset by his announcement/warning would be an understatement. How could you play Bo Diddley songs and not play the powerful, infectious and sensual Bo Diddley Beat?
Since Bo's first records for the Chess label back in the mid-'50s, his "Beat" (a primal and relentless mix of the old shave-and-a-haircut riff, Chicago blues grooves and Latin rhythms), had been borrowed, stolen or adapted by everyone from Buddy Holly to the Rolling Stones to David Bowie for their own hit records.
Now, even though Bo had utilized various permutations of the beat over the course of his long career, he was asking us to abandon it entirely in favor of . . . What? It's sort of like asking an actor to do Hamlet, but don't use any of Shakespeare's words.
Blasters drummer Bill Bateman and X drummer DJ Bonebreak, who were sharing the drum and percussion duties for the night, asked Bo to clarify what beat they should play. He tapped out some rhythm that stressed a different accent but, to be honest, I couldn't tell what the difference was. Fortunately, Bill and DJ picked up on his instructions and by the end of the first song Bo seemed pretty happy.
It was a very good band, with Bill and DJ teaming up for the essential duties on drums, timbales and maracas, X's John Doe and Blasters bassist John Bazz sharing the bass position while my brother Phil, who also played some harmonica, and I followed Bo as best we could on guitars.
Most of the songs in the first set were new songs that Bo had recently recorded but none of us had ever heard, let alone studied. We (and just about every other musician in the modern age) had been dissecting all of his old records for years with the passion of theology students pouring over the Dead Sea scrolls or physicists debating string theory. A couple of the songs in the set were straight blues that easily fell into a comfortable pocket, but the rest were extended one-chord, semi-funk jams that wound up sounding as much like "Bitches Brew"-era Miles Davis as they did classic Bo Diddley.
As the set progressed and I began to get comfortable with Bo's new beats, I started thinking that it was close-minded of me to expect him to play the old songs the same old way. Wasn't Bo Diddley as much of a musical revolutionary as Bob Dylan? Weren't his original recordings of "Mona" or "Who Do You Love" as musically unique, pivotal and influential in their day as Dylan's?
Maybe Bo wasn't the genius lyricist that Dylan is but in rock 'n' roll (or blues and folk), lyrics aren't everything. If Dylan could change the melodies, grooves and even lyrics to his songs in order to keep exploring the possibilities of his art, why couldn't Bo Diddley?
Some people would argue that Bo was one of the architects of funk and, if that's the case, why shouldn't he be allowed to follow his own rhythmic path to wherever it might lead him?
Why should Bo Diddley have to be stuck in the past just because that's where a part of his audience (and perhaps his backing bands) wanted him to remain?
I remember smiling on stage like a goofball as I realized all of this and came to the conclusion that if you really dig Bo Diddley, then let Bo Diddley be Bo Diddley!
I was a young guy at the time who was trying his best to replicate old music -- and that's the best way to learn, believe me -- but that night Bo taught me a lesson about growing and surviving as an musician/artist: Stay true to yourself.
After the first set I approached Bo backstage and told him what I had been thinking while I played with him. "That's right," he said laughing. "I already made all them old records years ago. Now I'm keeping myself new."
But as we walked back onstage for the second set, Bo turned to us, smiled and said, "You know, you boys are pretty good, so I'll tell what: The first song is gonna be 'Mona' and you can play with the Bo Diddley beat." And we did.
Thank you Bo, for all your incredible music over the years and, especially, the wise life lesson you taught me.
Singer, songwriter and guitarist Dave Alvin has been a member of the Blasters, X and the Knitters and leads his own roots-rock group, the Guilty Men.
http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/la-et-boappreciation4-2008jun04,0,7947308.story
Rest in peace sir.
IMB
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