R.I.P, BO DIDDLEY

R.I.P., indeed. It’s hard to imagine how dirty the hippies will be without Bo to blast ’em clean.

when that vid hits the :45 mark prepare to have the skin seared from your skull due to the sheer degree of badass this man possessed. crap show twenty years later or no, he was a mighty mofo at the peak of his powers.

when i first saw that clip yesteday after hearing the news of diddley’s passing (gracias SignalToNoise) it was at about 30,000 views. it’s now up over the 185K range. sad that it took his passing to come about but, lord, there are some folks learnin’ somethin’ worth learnin’ today.

i saw bo diddley for free at the santa monica pier when i was a kid.

Great clip! After watching this, it shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise that he once opened for The Clash. World turned upside down, I know, but he could’ve opened for MC5 – and taught them a lesson – playing like this!

Putting “I’m a Man” on his first single was no mistake.

I saw Bo Diddley at City Stages in 1990. The set was only 4 songs or so, but the whole thing took over an hour because every song was full of extra riffs, licks, variations and improv work that made Hendrix look like a zit-ridden sophomore trying to rock the garage.

But my dad, God rest his soul, insisted it wasn’t a patch on the Bo Diddley shows he snuck into the late 50s when he and his buddies were the only white kids at the show.

OS – i too saw a horrible bo diddley show with the anti-drug song “kids, don’t do it” – my friends and i later decided that “kids, don’t do it” was the worst song ever written, but it was one of those songs that is just so terrible that it’s hilarious – personally, i think columbine and all the other school shootings could have been prevented if only high school kids would have listened to what bo was saying – i highly encourage all of you to download this gem, which features the following lyrical gems:

Kids, kids, don’t do it
Kids, kids, don’t do it
I can’t be your mama, I can’t be your dad
But what you kids doin’ is makin’ me mad
You runnin’ in the streets and you runnin’ loose
I wonder if it’s something Bo Diddley could do

You runnin’ after something that you think is a rabbit
Start to foolin’ with drugs and end up with a habit
Kids, kids, don’t do it, don’t do it
Don’t, don’t, don’t do it

Last night somebody called on the phone
Said little Willie Junior, he ain’t coming home
He dead
Say what? Say What?
With a bullet in his head
Now if he had listened what his mama said
Maybe he wouldn’t have that bullet in his head
He’s gone, he was doin’ wrong
When he should have been home
Kids, kids, don’t do it, don’t do it
Don’t, don’t, don’t do it

Now if there’s a gun in your home
Be real smart and leave it alone
Don’t take your Mom and Daddy’s gun to school
Because the one that gets shot just might be you
Kids, kids, kids, don’t do it
Don’t do it, don’t, don’t, don’t do it

Listen to Bo Diddley
Stay in school and get your Ph.D.
Yo, I’m out of here.

Bo Knows Mourning…

Glad You mentioned Bo Diddley, I was wondering if You would. The Man helped invent Rock and Roll, and supplied a riff that is still being riped off by you guitar players all over the world.

Bo is the real-life version of the Muppet band. His arms and legs are wayyyy too limber.
Remember when R&B was a bunch of badass dudes making love to your ol’ lady while blasting on guitar? Now it’s a bunch of shitty vocals over crummy watered down hip hop beats. Ike Turner earlier this year, now Bo. Watch for black cats, Sly…

I walked 47 miles of barbed wire,
Use a cobra snake for a neck tie.
Got a brand new house on the roadside,
Made out of rattlesnake hide.
I got a brand new chimney made on top,
Made out of a human skull
Now come on take a walk with me, Arlene,
And tell me, who do you love?

He wrote “I’m a Man”, “Who Do You Love?”, and has a beat named after him that the Who, Springsteen, and U2 jacked for big time hits, among others — and one of the scuzziest guitar sounds that rocked your face off.

That’s a fucking musical legacy right there. Shame he got ripped off like every other black blues/R&B/rock pioneer.

In between getting my socks rocked off (now they smell clean, too) – I couldn’t help but notice the extreme rhythm-free whiteytude of the audience. I have my suspicions, but does anyone know where that was filmed?

Don’t forget one of the most classic lines ever uttered in a movie. “In Philadelphia, its worth fifty bucks” to Dan Ackroyd in Trading Places.

Somewhere R.L. Burnside and Bo Diddley are plotting to overthrow the heavens…let’s hope there is enough whiskey to go around.

Thanks Flatlander for the R.L. reference. Never got to see Diddley in person, but I literally sat at the feet of R.L. (amongst the discarded peanut shells of Blind Jim’s).

I saw Bo in concert in Houston in the late 90s, a small venue with about 200 people.

Best concert ever.

It was like listening to DaVinci.

RIP, my brother.

On one side of the split screen: Bo Diddly using his guitar as a humongus phallus. On the other side of the split screen: a Gabe Kaplan look-alike nodding in approval.

Rock and Effing Roll.

When I was in junior high in the mid- to late-80s, I somehow got really interested in 50s rock ‘n’ roll. One of my uncles had a big year-by-year Time-Life set of records covering that era. I taped the records on his stereo and listened to them over and over while mowing the lawn, going to the beach, etc. Bo Diddley was among those acts for whom I earned an appreciation.

Around the same time I also got heavily into Led Zeppelin and Cream (from my dad’s record collection) and blues guitarists like Muddy Waters, Buddy Guy, and B.B. King (from the local library). My contemporary favorite at the time was Stevie Ray Vaughan. I remember where I was when I heard the news he died—on my way to a lousy magazine telemarketing job where I quickly became their top salesperson but quit after I couldn’t take it anymore after two weeks. Vaughan’s death was the first time I remembered feeling like I had been kicked in the stomach upon hearing news of the death of someone I didn’t know personally.

All the great ones are moving on to other things. Soon all we will have left is Britney Spears, boy bands, and american idol trash.

My class (’85) hired Bo for the senior party. I shed copious amounts of brain cells that night, but do recall my world being rocked.

Step aside, Kurt. A real man’s coming through.