BO DIDDLEY: WHERE IT ALL BEGAN (1972)
1) I've Had It Hard; 2) Woman;
3) Look At Grandma; 4) A Good Thing; 5) Bad Trip; 6) Hey Jerome; 7)
Infatuation; 8) Take It All Off; 9) Bo Diddley-itis.
Well, we have just very narrowly escaped from making
the review for Britney Spears' ...Baby
One More Time conclude the reviewing season of 2012 — a fairly creepy omen
would that be. Instead, we are
concluding it with something much more solid, if about three hundred times less
known — the finest record that Bo Diddley got to cut in the studio over the
third, and most underrated, decade of his artistic career.
By all means, Another Dimension was not a bad album, but neither was it really
true to the Bo Diddley spirit, and after it predictably failed to sell, the
people at Chess showed enough glimpses of intellect to let Bo go on and do his
own thang once again — and that he did. Where
It All Began is really a misleading title: usually, we expect them to be
reserved for archival albums of early outtakes, or at least for straightforward
nostalgic throwbacks. However, if there is
a nostalgic throwback here, it is not too stretched out — the album returns
to the steam-funk of Black Gladiator,
and builds up from there. If anything, the title is rather an indirect hint
that Bo Diddley, in 1972, if he really puts his back to it, can be just as
kick-ass as he used to be fifteen years earlier. And you know what? I'm almost
convinced.
The record is a little more polished and a
little less noisy than Black Gladiator,
and we see the classic old Bo Diddley beat return on a couple of numbers, so
overall, Bo is taking fewer risks here. But the overall sound of Gladiator — heavy, deep, echoey, and quite
modern — remains stable, and now it is being supported by cleaner, sharper
production; guest appearances by drummer Johnny Otis on one track and
guitarist Shuggie Otis on another; and fabulous backup vocal arrangements, with
Connie Redmond at the head of the team, and she is good enough to even take the
lead on ʽA Good Thingʼ — and bury poor little Bo deep in the ground in the
process. (The man was careful enough not to let his backup singers take the
spotlight most of the time — but every once in a while, still let down his
guard).
Each side of the LP is dominated by a lengthy
jam: ʽBad Tripʼ, true to its name, is a devoted exercise in acid funk, whereas
ʽBo Diddley-itisʼ is somewhat more traditional — faster, sloppier, and
tribalistic. Both, however, are excellent by their own standards. ʽBad Tripʼ features
six minutes of aggressive and surprisingly complex guitar pyrotechnics
(courtesy of Bo himself and second guitarist Tom Thompson) — if played
sufficiently loud, the track compares quite favorably to contemporary
Funkadelic workouts. And ʽBo Diddley-itisʼ is just a wild party freakout — now,
in 1972, Bo can finally allow himself to stretch out without any serious limits
in the studio, in a manner that, in the 1950s and 1960s, had to be reserved
for local club gigs.
In between, we have lots of shorter, catchier,
sunnier «funk-pop» numbers, often with interesting guitar themes — so
interesting, in fact, that one cannot help but wonder how in the world did Bo
manage to stay away so completely from exploring new note sequences throughout
most of the 1960s. Yes, so ʽI've Had It Hardʼ starts things out on a more than
familiar note of «chug, chu-chu-chug-chug, CHUG CHUG», but even there the
second guitar plays something more melodic and curious over Bo's basic rhythm,
while the girls in the back invent a new way of chanting "diddley bo diddley
bo diddley bo diddley bo diddley".
Then there is ʽWomanʼ, pinned to a wobbly «post-bluesy»
riff that would not be out of place on a Television record (yes, they did
something quite similar for ʽMarquee Moonʼ); the fantastically catchy,
hilarious ʽLook At Grandmaʼ, again dominated by the girls' harmonies; the
gritty twin-guitar jam on ʽHey Jeromeʼ; a not-half-bad take on the sunny soul
side with ʽInfatuationʼ; and Bo strutting his macho stuff with ʽTake It All
Offʼ — again, a song not at all memorable for its «dirty» vocalization, but
rather for the excellent guitar/bass/back vocals interplay.
In fact, amazing as it seems, there is not a
single weak cut on the record. Perhaps it cannot really compete in flimsy terms
of «relevance» with the big black music of the day — perhaps it is nohere near
as far out as Funkadelic, really, and perhaps the rhythms and the riffs are
mostly «old-school», because, well, one cannot demand of a Fifties idol that he
completely re-learn his craft with every new decade. But on its own terms, Where It All Began shows no signs of
weariness — every note is punched out with religious enthusiasm, and the entire
team shows wonders of group coordination. A heavily underrated groovy jam
masterpiece here — dig it out and learn how to surprise your local hipster
parties. Thumbs
up.