Ultimate Playlist: My Back Pages
First off: props to Tchaikovsky and the 1812 Overture. And hats off to Beethoven and his Fifth.
Mozart? He was good too.
And while we’re at it, way to go Oscar Peterson, Dave Brubeck and Duke Ellington.
But can any of them compare to Carlo Mastrangelo and his pulsating “Din-Din-Din” intro to “I Wonder Why” by Dion & the Belmonts in 1958? Or to Little Richard informing us that he’s “Gonna Tell Aunt Mary ‘Bout Uncle John”?
There’s something about kick-ass early rock n’ roll that rings my 78-year-old Bronx chimes. Or perhaps more correctly, that rings my half-Italian Bronx chimes.
PART OF A SERIES ON FAVORITE SONGS. FOR PREVIOUS LISTS, SEE HERE AND HERE.
I grew up just a few subway stops away from Dion DiMucci, whom I interviewed a few months ago on the Italian roots of rock n’ roll. We traded a boatload of Bronx tales—Dion is only five years older than I and still cranking out hits, God bless him.
Among other things, Dion, who with his Belmonts helped introduce doo wop to the playlist of rock ‘n roll, said that his pal Carlo’s “din-din-dins” at the start of “I Wonder Why” was a way for him and so many other artists of the period to mimic the sound of “instruments we couldn’t afford.”
In looking over the list that follows, it’s clear that, with only two exceptions, I’m drawn to loud, raucous, commanding intros—instrumental, doo wop or lyrical—that compel our attention and reward us with three or so minutes of total and reckless abandonment. It also was how we teenagers back then shouted our disdain for the saccharine Make-Believe-Ballroom sounds of our parents’ era.
I defy anyone to listen to the rumbling, rolling, barrelhouse piano intro to Jerry Lee Lewis’ “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On” and not feel a ticklish stirring in the loins as The Killer once again grapples with his Pentecostal Louisiana Baptist upbringing and dives into a song that is all sex and persuasion. (“Shake it one time for me…”)
This yeasty competition between the sacred and profane also defined the appeal of Richard Penniman, who as Little Richard was one of the founders of rock n’ roll (and among the original inductees into its Hall of Fame.) Born in Macon, Ga., Richard came from a family of preachers, though his father was a mean SOB moonshiner who hated his son’s gayness. (Papa Penniman wound up being shot to death outside a local bar.)
Here, in no order whatsoever, with their links, are ten tunes that’ll stay with me forever. Enjoy:
“I Wonder Why” – Dion and the Belmonts
“Long Tall Sally” – Little Richard
“Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On” – Jerry Lee Lewis (close second: “Great Balls of Fire”)
“Da Doo Ron Ron” – The Crystals (for its spectacular Wall of Sound intro and arrangement by the legendary Phil Spector)
“Up Around the Bend” – Creedence Clearwater Revival (close behind: “Down on the Corner” and “Travelin’ Band.”) Their mega-hit “Proud Mary,” though very good, can’t hold a candle to Ike and Tina Turner’s thunderous version, especially with Tina and the Ikettes dancing feverishly onstage.
“Johnny B. Goode” – Chuck Berry with one of the most recognizable rock songs of all time. It was semi-autobiographical—Berry was born on Goode Avenue in St. Louis. A close second for me is Berry’s “Back in the USA” though I much prefer Linda Ronstadt’s version. (Fun fact: troll YouTube for a Chuck Berry concert in which he and Linda, a surprise guest, reprise this great hit together.)
“Fun, Fun, Fun” – The Beach Boys. The opening guitar riff was inspired by the opening to “Johnny B. Goode.”
“Blueberry Hill” – Antoine (Fats) Domino. Another great and immediately recognizable piano intro—though slower and wonderfully bluesy. A perfect song for doing the Stroll. Also great: “Blue Monday” another terrific Stroll song; and “I’m Ready” a straight-up rocker.
“Save the Last Dance for Me” – The Drifters. Ben E. King does the haunting lead vocal. Also: Don’t miss their other, New York-centric, hit “Under the Boardwalk.”
“Brown Sugar” – The Rolling Stones. Even Mick Jagger said it may be his dirtiest (or at least most suggestive) song. Its live debut was at the fatal free concert at Altamont Speedway near San Francisco in 1969. One of the anthems of rock n’ roll, it was recorded that same year at the hallowed ground of Muscle Shoals Sound Studio, Muscle Shoals, Alabama.
Biggest surprise for me? That I have not listed one Beatles or Elvis Presley song. But then, I always preferred the Stones to the Beatles; Jerry Lee Lewis to Elvis.
And, if I may give honorable mentions to three other fine groups: Chicago, The Who and Cheap Trick. Chicago for “Feelin’ Stronger Every Day,” The Who for “Pinball Wizard” and the oh-so-suggestive “Squeeze Box,” and Cheap Trick, for their 1978 album “Live at Budokan” (Japan), one of the greatest live rock albums ever. It includes the group’s concert renditions of their huge hit “Surrender,” as well as an over-the-top cover of “Ain’t that a Shame,” including a dazzling drum solo by the great Bun E. Carlos (Brad M. Carlson) a heavyset rocker with horn rim glasses and a dark mustache.
POSTSCRIPT: The following year I am arriving in Tokyo with my Nieman Fellow colleagues for a tour of Japan. We callow newsies are greeted by a lovely young Japanese translator as we make our way from the terminal to our taxis. I can’t help but notice that a large number of Japanese girls are looking at me—a heavyset guy with horn rim glasses and a mustache—giggling and whispering to themselves.
I ask our translator about it. “They think you’re Bun E. Car-ros,” she replies.
Frank Van Riper is a Washington-based documentary and fine art photographer, journalist and author. During 20 years with the New York Daily News, he served as White House correspondent, national political correspondent and Washington Bureau news editor. He also is the former photography columnist of the Washington Post. His latest book, done in collaboration with his wife and partner Judith Goodman, is “The Green Heart of Italy: Umbria and its Ancient Neighbors” (Fall, ’25).
