Danny O’Keefe Digs Little Richard

Danny O’Keefe Digs Little Richard: Songwriter extraordinaire Danny O’Keefe told us about his Little Richard experience.

Danny O’Keefe: I was spending the summer of my thirteenth year in a small town on the Mississippi River called Lake City. It was where my aunt and uncle and my cousins lived. It was a magical place for me.

I lived in a little town in Washington State situated on the Columbia River. I’d been listening to Bill Haley and the Comets; Fats Domino; Gene Vincent; Buddy Holly; and, of course Elvis. But it was Little Richard that got to me in the biggest way. The first time I heard “Long Tall Sally” he tore my head off. You couldn’t help but move when you heard it. I wasn’t even sure if I understood the lyrics: “Gonna tell Aunt Mary ‘bout Uncle John. Claims to have the misery but he has a lotta fun. Oh, baby!” And, yet, I did. Didn’t we all? Adolescent white kids yearning for something that would move us a sufficient distance off the square.

We were walking down to the beach, or maybe back from it, when I stopped to look in the record bin in the local drug store, and saw a gleaming, golden square with the wild man, himself, on the cover. It was probably only a couple of bucks and I had sufficient fare to get on that train. I took it back to my cousins’, and my dear Aunt Bitsy’s house, where I proceeded to immerse myself in my new score. If ever there was a record to move you into dance, that was it. I was bopping to the music all by myself, and I’d play it non-stop. My aunt would kindly tolerate me and the music, and would close the door to the living room (where the record player was), so I could ascend into teenage heaven. She understood, and years later I wondered what it had been in her life that made her empathetic to my new- found passion.

I immersed myself in the magical Mr. Penniman that summer and was still in that haze in the fall when I discovered The Man Himself was coming to my little burg to play a show (they weren’t concerts then). The ecstasy of anticipation is the most powerful drug there is. I’m sure that from a distance I must have been exhibiting symptoms and traits of madness. A fine madness.

It was Thursday night in Wenatchee. My mother drove me to the D and D Roller Bowl and headed off to Thrifty Drug to read the magazines. Magazines, movies, and the radio were the media. And gossip, of course. Word of mouth. The band was playing in a little alcove off the main roller rink floor. Beat me, daddy, eight to the bar. I couldn’t keep from dancing and was in full foam. Time slowly returned as I noticed my mother sitting in the bleachers and beckoning me to come hither. She gave me sufficient change to go get a Coke, and sit there with her to make sure I drank it. Then off to the floor.

The band had gotten everyone ready and, suddenly, there he was! In gold lame shoes, and gold lame suit and tie. He sparkled and shined and started to tear the piano apart. “Lucille, what you don’t do your sister will.” He was from another planet and completely beyond my understanding. How could we understand him? But we sensed that he understood us. In ways most of us never would without connecting to that primal essence within us, that wild force.

I still have the album “Here’s Little Richard”. It was made of good vinyl and still sounds great in spite of all the turns it’s made. It lives on an imagined, internalized altar with a few other things that are rare and sacred to the Self.

Danny O’Keefe Digs Little Richard: Danny O’Keefe’s Circular Turns is out via Sunset Blvd. Records on November 1o.

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