A History of Rock Music in 500 Songs - Episode 36: “Blue Suede Shoes” by Carl Perkins

Episode Date: June 9, 2019

Episode thirty-six of A History of Rock Music in Five Hundred Songs looks at “Blue Suede Shoes” by Carl Perkins, and is part one of a trilogy on the aftermath of Elvis leaving Sun, and the birth of rockabilly. Click the full post to read liner notes, links to more information, and a transcript of the episode. Patreon backers also have a ten-minute bonus episode available, on “Black Denim Trousers and Motorcycle Boots” by the Cheers. (more…)

A History of Rock Music in 500 songs by Andrew Hig. Episode 36, Blue Suede Shoes by Carl Perkins. Today's episode is, in effect, part one of a three-part story, looking at the repercussions of Elvis Presley's move from Sun Records and the birth of rockabilly. As when I did my recent chess records trilogy, all of these episodes should stand alone, but you might find it interesting to listen back to this one after the next two.

While Elvis Presley had moved from Sun to RCA, that didn't mean that Sam Phillips had given up on recording rock and roll music. Far from it. With the amount of money that RCA had paid for Elvis's contract, Sun Records was, for the first time, on a completely secure footing, and now Phillips could really begin work

on making the music that would come to define his legacy, because now Sun Records shifted almost entirely from being a blues label to being a rockabilly label. We've not talked much about rockabilly as a genre, and that's because, until now, we've only heard one person performing it. But while Elvis was arguably the first rockabilly, artist. It wasn't until Elvis had left Sun that the floodgates opened, and Sam Phillips started

producing the records that defined the genre as a genre, rather than as the work of a single individual. The Rockabilly sound was, in essence, created in Sun Studios, and Rockabilly is one of those sounds that purists, at least, insist had a very, very specific meaning. It had to have slap-back echo on the vocals. It had to have an electric lead guitar and slap-back bass. It basically had to have all the elements of Elvis's very earliest records. You could add a few other elements, like piano or drums, mostly because anything else would exclude Jerry Lee Lewis. But no horns or strings, no backing vocals, nothing that would take away from the very primitive sound. And no steel

guitar or fiddle either. That would tip it over into country. There were, of course, other people who produced rockabilly records, and we'll look at some of them as the next couple of years go on. But when they did, they were all copying the sound that Sam

Phillips created. Because after Elvis stopped recording for Sun, Sam Phillips and his small staff discovered enough young, exciting musicians that Sun Records was assured a place in music history, even though its biggest artist was gone. The first of these new artists Phillips discovered was someone who came to son when Elvis was still on

the label, a young man named Carl Perkins. Perkins, like many of the pioneers of rock and roll music, had grown up dirt poor. His parents were sharecroppers, who were illiterate enough that they misspelled their own surname on his birth certificate. They spelled it Perkins, but he always used Perkins in later life. His family had been so poor that when young Carl, inspired by listening to the grand old Opry on the radio, asked if he could have a guitar, his parents couldn't afford one, and so his father made him one from a cigar box and a broom handle.

However, young Carl got good enough that soon he had, his dad bought him a real guitar. He was so poor that when he broke strings, he had to tie them together, because he couldn't afford new ones, and he ended up developing a unique guitar style, bending strings to get different notes rather than fretting them normally, to avoid the knots in the strings which hurt his fingers. When he was 14, Perkins wrote his first song, and it again shows just how poor he was. Listen to the lyrics to move him. Mike. I'll let's see her once a week, and that's when my work is through.

I break new ground the whole week long with my mindset stayed on you. And I partied up my old horse back and she looks good, I know. So crime the phone, old Becky's back, and let's ride to the picture show. Now, won't you let me take you to the show so I can hold your hand. Oh, it ain't that I don't like your house, it's just that doggone man. And I double bow behind the door It waits for me, I know So climb upon old Beck is back

And let's ride to the picture show That's about going to the cinema riding on a mule Because in the time and place Where Perkins grew up It was actually considered slightly classier to ride a mule to the cinema Than to take a car

Because if anyone did have a car It was one that was so broken down and rusted That it was actually less impressive. than a mule. All of Perkins's early workers like that, rooted in a poverty, far deeper than almost anyone listening to this podcast will be able to understand. It's music based in the country music he heard growing up, and it's music that could only be made by someone who spent his childhood picking cotton for pennies an hour in order to help his family survive. When Perkins had learned to play the guitar well enough to play lead, he taught his brother Jay to play rudimentary

rhythm parts. Jay loved music as much as Carl did, but the two brothers had slightly different tastes in country music. Carl was a massive fan of the inventor of Bluegrass, Bill Monroe, who sang high, driving, harmony-filled songs of longing. Jay, on the other hand, preferred Ernest Tubbs low honky-tongue music. Oh, you tell me that you love me. Yes, you tell me that you care. That tomorrow will be married. But tomorrow's never there.

Oh, tomorrow never comes. No, tomorrow never comes. They taught their younger brother Clayton to play a little bass, even though he wasn't a music lover especially. Clayton loved drinking and fighting, and not much else. But he had a reasonable sense of rhythm, so they could teach him the three places to put his fingers on most country songs, and let him figure out the rest with practice.

Their friend Flew Colland joined on drums, and the Perkins Brothers band was born. The Perkins brothers spent their next. several years honing their craft, playing some of the roughest bars in Tennessee. They had to develop an ability to play dance music for venues where it was customary to buy two bottles of beer at a time, one to drink, and one to smash over someone else's head. You didn't want to use an empty bottle for your smashing, as there was no weight to them, but a full bottle of beer would put someone out of commission very quickly.

So they very quickly developed a style that was rooted in honky tonk music, but which was totally oriented around getting people dancing. It had elements of bluegrass, western swing, the blues, and anything else that could possibly be used to get a crowd of drunk's dancing if you only had two guitars, a double bass and a drum kit. Both Carl and Jay would take turn singing lead, and when they ran out of songs to perform, Carl would improvise new ones around standard chord changes.

He had the ability to improvise words and music off the top of his head, and he'd remember a good chorus of a good line and reuse it, so these improvised songs slowly became standard, structured parts of their set. They were soon able to make a full-time living playing music for bars full of angry drunk men, and for several years they did just that, starting from before it was even legal for them to enter the bars they were playing.

They had no ambition to do anything else. They were just glad to be earning a living doing something that was fun. Slowly but surely, Carl Perkins started to carve out a unique sound for the band, at least on the songs that he wrote and sang. He didn't know what it was that he was doing, but he knew it was different,

and that no one else was doing anything like it, until one day he heard someone who was. When Carl Perkins heard Elvis singing Blue Moon of Kentucky on the radio on the radio, he knew that there was somewhere else. who was out there doing the same kind of thing as him. He was even singing a song by Carl's favourite, Bill Monroe. If this Elvis Presley kid could become a star making that kind of music, maybe so could Carl himself.

He and his brothers went to see Elvis live, and while Jay and Clayton took a dislike to Elvis, deciding that because he paid any attention to his appearance, he must be gay, and therefore, in their opinion, worthy of nothing but contempt, Carl saw something else. He determined right then that he was going to go to Sun Records

and demand an audition. If they would put that Elvis Boy's records out, then surely they would put his out too. The Perkins Brothers band all piled into a single car and drove down to Memphis to 706 Union Avenue. They went in to see the people at Sun Records.

and were turned away. Mary and Kaiska told them that they weren't auditioning right then and that they didn't need any new singers. When Carl Perkins told her that they sounded a bit like Elvis, she was even more dismissive. They didn't need another Elvis.

They'd already got one. They trudged back despondently to the car, deciding that their dream of stardom was at an end. But as they were doing so, a cabalac pulled up, and a man got out of them. it. They decided that the only person who would be driving a Cadillac to that studio must be the owner of the record label. So they went over to him and told him what had happened. And Sam Phillips

agreed with Kaisker. He wasn't after anyone else right now. He had enough acts. And Carl was devastated. According to Perkins, Phillips later told him, I couldn't say no. Never have I seen a pitiful or looking fellow as you looked when I said, I'm too busy to listen to you. You overpowered me. He relented and told them that he'd give them a quick listen, but it had to be quick, as he was busy that day. They went into the studio and started running through their set. They got through a verse of the first song, and Philip stopped them. He wasn't interested in anything like that. They started another song. Again, Philip stopped them. and said he wasn't interested.

They were about to go home, but then Carl asked if he could try just one more song. He started up that song he had written when he was 14, Movie Mag. I'll let me take you to the movie's mag so I can hold your hand. Oh, it ain't that I don't like your house. It's just that doggone man.

And I double bow behind the door. It waits for Carl, I know. Oh, climb a bone. Oh, Beckie's back. The band joined through the figure show. I only see her once a week, and that's when my work is through. The band joined in, and as they played through the song, Carl noticed something. Sam Phillips hadn't stopped them from playing.

He sat through the whole thing, listening intently. When they got to the end, he said that if they came back with a few more songs that sounded like that, they might just be worth recording. The band were pleased, but Phillips also said something else, to Carl alone, that was more worrying. He told Carl that there was no place

for any lead vocals by his brother Jay. There's already one Ernest Tub in the world. No one needs another one. Without them having fully realised it at the time, the Perkins Brothers band had now become Carl Perkins and his. his band. When they came back a few weeks later, they had worked out a few more songs. Phillips put out movie mag, backed with the ballad call had written, turn around, but he didn't

put these out on some. Rather, he put them out on a new label, Flip, that didn't pay union scale. Flip only put out records around Tennessee, and the idea was that these would be audition records. Phillips would see how the records would do locally, without paying full royalties, and without paying expensive shipping costs, or for a large print run. Phillips was in financial trouble at the time, and he was trying to find ways to cut costs. Movie Mag did well enough on Flip, that for the next Carl Perkins single, Phillips moved him onto Sun Records proper. This followed the same formula as the first single, pairing an up-tempo A-side

with a B-side ballad in the Hank Williams vein. The A-side, Gone-Gong-Gone, was one of Carl's improvised songs. Every take of it was different, although they were all based around the same basic idea, which was riffing on the old phrase, it must be jelly because jam don't shake like that. Gone-Gone-Gone wasn't a hit,

but it sold well enough, Phillips arranged for Perkins to go out on tour, on a bill with Elvis and another new son-signing, Johnny Cash. It was on this tour that Cash made a suggestion to Perkins that would change Perkins's life. Cash remembered a fellow serviceman, a black man named C.V. Wright had referred to his service-issue shoes as blue suede shoes, and he told Perkins that he should write a song about that. Perkins dismissed the idea What the hell did he know about shoes anyway And what kind of song could you write about them

The idea was ridiculous The tour went well apart from one incident Perkins and Presley had been talking about their mutual love For the song Only You And that inspired Perkins to add the song To his own set list That irritated Presley who had been planning to perform the song himself the same night,

and Presley felt that Perkins's performance had upstaged him. The two remained friends, but would never perform on the same bill again. Elvis did, however, take Carl out clothes shopping and show him how to dress in a more sophisticated manner on stage. Shortly after that tour, Perkins was performing another show when he noticed someone in the audience berating his date. don't step on my swades. He started thinking about what kind of person

would find his shoes so important and thinking about pride and about people who don't have anything. The idea merged with Cash's mention of blue suede shoes, and Perkins found himself one night getting out of bed, playing his electric guitar unplugged,

so as not to disturb his wife, and writing a song he called Blue Swade Shoes. He spelled Swade, S-W-A-D-E, because he didn't know how the word was spelled. Two days later, on December the 19th, 195, he was in the studio recording it. One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, now go, cat, go, but don't you, step on my blues, knock me down, step in my face, slander my name all over the place, and do anything that you want to do.

Perkins was certain that this was going to be it. This was his breakthrough record, but at the same time he was getting depressed about his prospect. He had a wife and kids to support, and he was earning so little money from his music that he was having to do farm work as a side job in order to make enough money to buy his kids' Christmas presents. The people at this side job were often astonished

that that singer-feller was there. Everyone around knew him from his stage shows, and they all knew he'd put out records. Surely he was rich now, and didn't need to be doing such menial work. He was at a low, and that didn't get better when he finally got his complimentary copies

of his new single. They arrived through the post, and, as often happened with records at that time, they got smashed into bits. He wanted to have his own copies of the record, of course, so he went into town to the shop that sold records and asked for a copy. He was horrified at what he saw. Instead of a proper record, a big 10-inch thing with a tiny little hole in the middle, made out of shellac,

he was confronted with something only seven inches across, made of some kind of plastic, and with a big hole in the middle. He explained that no, he wanted his record, and the store owner replied, that this was his record. He came home with this little floppy thing and cried, explaining to his wife that they'd messed up his record in some way and that he was ruined. Eventually, they figured out that this was okay

and that what the store owner had told Carl had been correct. These new vinyl records were apparently what all the kids wanted instead of what Carl thought of as real records. Blue Suede Shoes was an obvious. hit, but the B-side, Honey Don't, got more than a little airplay as well. Blue Suede Shoes was such a smash hit that Steve Sholes of RCA called Sam Phillips worried. When he'd signed Elvis, had he backed the wrong horse.

Phillips assured Scholes that he hadn't. As it turned out, Blue Suede Shoes and Elvis's first single for RCA, Heartbreak Hotel, were racing up the charts at the same time as each other. Heartbreak Hotel ended up at number one, and Blue Suede Shoes at number two, and both were crossover hits, making the top two in both Pop and Country

and the top five in R&B. Blue Suede Shoes was so popular, in fact, that at one point it was being performed simultaneously on two different TV shows. At the same time as Carl Perkins was appearing on the Ozark Jubilee, his very first TV appearance. Fresley was on stage show on another network, performing his cover version of it. Well, you can do anything I'll take you over my blue suede shoe Well, you can knock me down

Step in my face Slend of my name all over the place We'll do anything that you want to do But not, oh honey, lay off the little shoes And don't you Step on my blue suede shoes Presley's version wasn't released as a single Until a few months later

They'd come to a gentleman's agreement that he wouldn't affect Perkins's sales. But it was put out as the opening track on Presley's first album and as a track on an EP. When Presley's version finally came out as a single, towards the end of the year, it made the top 20, and brought in further royalties for Perkins.

Perkins's version of blue suede shoes and elvices had a few crucial differences other than just their performer. Perkins's version is more interesting rhythmically at the start. It has a stop-time introduction, which essentially puts it into 6-4 time before settling into 4-4. Elvis, on the other hand, stayed with a 4-4 beat all the way through. Elvis's performance is all about keeping up a sense of urgency,

while Perkins is about building up tension and release. Listen, first of all, to Elvis. as introduction. Well, it's one for the money, two for the show. Three to get ready now, go, cat, go, but don't. Well, it's one for the money, bam, two for the show, bam, that's a record that's all about that initial urgency. Now, listen to Perkins.

Well, it's one for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, now go cat, go, but don't you. It seems to stall after every line, as if it's hesitant, as if he doesn't really want to get started. But at the same time, that gives it a rhythmic interest that isn't there in Presley's version. Perkins's original is the more sophisticated, musicianly record. Most cover versions since then have followed Presley's version, with the notable exception of John Lennon's live cover version from 1969, which follows the pattern of Perkinses. Unfortunately, Perkins' career was then derailed in a tragic accident. On his way to perform on the Perry Como show on TV, Perkins's car hit a truck.

The truck driver was killed, and Perkins and his brother Jay were both hospitalized. They got better, but their career had lost momentum, and by the time they were completely well, Sam Phillips was rather more interested in his next big thing. Phillips did, however, get Perkins a Cadillac of his own, like the one Perkins had been impressed by when he first met Phillips. He told Perkins that he'd planned to do this for the first Sun Records artist to have a million seller, which Blue Suede Shoes was. Perkins was less impressed when he found out that the Cadillac wasn't a gift, but had been paid for out of Perkins's royalties, and that eventually started a lifelong series of royalty disputes between the two men, with Perkins never believing that he had received all the money

that was rightfully his. Perkins would never have another hit as a performer, and his career would be defined by that one song, but he continued making great records, and in a few weeks' time we'll be taking a look at another of them, and at what happened in the studio when a couple of people came to visit while he was recording. Those future records would include some that would inspire some of the most important musicians in the world, and would rightfully become classics. But it's blue suede shoes which ensured his place in music history, and which 63 years later, more than any other record, sums up that point in 1956 when two country boys from Tennessee

were chasing each other up the charts and defining the future. of rock and roll. A history of rock music and 500 songs is brought to you by the generosity of my backers on Patreon. Each week, Patreon Backers will get a 10-minute bonus podcast. This week's is on black denim trousers and mucksacled boots by the cheers. Visit patreon.com slash Andrew Hickey to sign on. for as little as a dollar a month.

This podcast is written, narrated and produced by me and from Hickey. Visit 500Songs.com. That's 500-the-numbersons.com to read transcripts and liner notes, and get links to hear the full versions of songs excerpted here. If you've enjoyed the show and feel it's worth reviewing you, please do leave a review on iTunes, or wherever you get your podcasts. But more importantly, tell just one person that you like this episode. Word of mouth, more than any other form of promotion or reward,

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