Richard Wayne Penniman, known as “Little Richard,” died on May 9, 2020. On one day in 1963, lighting up a stage studio in Manchester, England, Little Richard could be heard as more alive than any performer up to that date. Also after that date, I’d say.
On that carefree day, Richard unleashed a glorious vocal storm while standing to play piano, shaking around near the piano, and working the crowd while standing on top of it. Grenada Television recorded this performance live and broadcast the recording to North West England tellies on January 8, 1964 as It’s Little Richard.
All accounts I found of the performance dated it only to “November, 1963.” Even an ocean away from America, the radiant joy of performers and audience suggested it was earlier in that month than the globally-mourned assassination of President Kennedy on the 22nd. Still, momentous as that month was, the date seemed worth checking. After several inquiries, I finally learned that this triumphant Little Richard performance took place two weeks before the Dallas tragedy.
Expertly directed, the recorded TV program is a low-def, black-and-white treasure. I searched out a DVD of it and found one. The disc’s video quality is just slightly better than the YouTube copy but worth the price, for me, anyway.
Turning 18 in 1950, Penniman was given the stage name Little Richard, though his height was slightly above the male average then. Admiring guess as to why: Since he jumps up higher while holding a mike than any performer ever, maybe he seemed relatively little when singing in his preacher’s crouch.
Why does this 11/ 8 / 63 performance of Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On strike me as live rock’s GOAT? (If you have to search that acronym, you might be even more of an old goat than I am.) Here’s the performance via YouTube, followed by my ten reasons. I have others.
- Although Little Richard’s biggest hits were recorded in the ‘50s, he plays at the very top of his live performance game here, from the moment he steps up to the piano, grinning slyly. Richard plays a loose arpeggio teaser followed by an excited chord pounded out percussively. His Come on over, baby . . . immediately fires up two young Brit couples to rush to an open spot to dance.
- Inspired by Richard’s passion, one dancing dervish wearing a sports coat and Buddy Holly-ish glasses attracts lots of camera time. Flailing his arms around like a berserk traffic bobby, the bloke appears in danger of injuring someone, or maybe serving as antique inspiration for Elaine Benes. But he’s great! Fred Astaire not required.
- The middle section of the performance resets dramatically, as Richard takes down the volume and softly beckons to the audience from his knees. When he leaps up to belt the song out again, you wonder how he’s able to jump around so athletically while still singing splendidly. Lip synch not required.
- Backing instrumentals are played by England’s own Sounds Incorporated, glad lads who seem to know how lucky they are to play for Richard there. Their playing and dance steps are nice, but they ain’t Richard’s American band The Upsetters.
- The first few times I watched the video of this song (not realizing YouTube had the entire show), it seemed strange that those young black ladies singing backup did no singing but lots of dancing. Then I saw that those ladies were not backup singers but — the wonderful Shirelles! (They’re on fire swinging Everybody Loves a Lover earlier in the show.) Their various dance moves seem on-the-spot inspired by Richard’s red-hot vocal. Toward the end, The Swim is especially moving.
- Just after the one minute mark, a cameraman captures an iconic TV shot. Richard is standing at the piano blazing away, but he’s in the background. Prominent in the foreground is some Shirelles posterior gyrating with such stylish energy that I wondered, “Hmmm, are they maybe trying to show those British kids how to dance?”
- Check out Richard’s tie — or is that a shoestring? He’s dressed like the world’s coolest undertaker (a 1963 dapper cool).
- Whole Lotta… was, I’ve always thought, the greatest record of another titan, Jerry Lee Lewis. There are two videos on YouTube of Jerry Lee powerfully performing this song live, one from 1957 and an even better one from 1964, the latter, like Richard’s, for a crowd of pituitary-propelled British kids. Both Jerry Lee performances feature the “turn down the volume” middle section, so that strong arrangement seems his. But recall all those instances over the years of white performers “borrowing” from black performers — as worthy as the Beatles’, as cringeworthy as Pat Boone’s. Richard’s reworking of Jerry Lee’s fine version (which reworked Big Maybelle’s fine version) is a sweet cultural reverse spin.
- Richard is generous with his signature high-pitched “Wuuuuuu!” here. He brought it from American gospel music to rock, introduced it to pop charts in 1956, and taught it to Paul McCartney in 1962. African-American-Anglo accomplishment.
- You’ll notice a young woman swinging to Richard’s beat but looking serene for the scene. She sports a turtleneck sweater and a demure smile, and she’s beautiful. She would probably be in her mid-70s now and, either with us or remembered by loved ones, I’m sure she’s still beautiful.
If you’re able to limit yourself to watching this only one time and you’re not even tempted to raise your hands, well, OK. But maybe you’re taking that shelter-in-place order too miserably seriously.
Great article and yes that’s one hell of a performance. You can the influence may well of had on the likes of Otis Redding and even Prince.
I’m a Mancunian — was that a young Jimmy Saville kicking up a bit?
So glad you appreciated the performance, Joseph, and that I actually heard from a Manchester native. Otis was surely influenced by LR. I gather one of the dancers looked like a young Saville — which one? Those dancers were so much fun to watch. I especially enjoyed the geeky little guy, the fellow flailing his arms wildly, and the young, dreamy-eyed beauty in the turtleneck sweater. I hope you read some other articles of mine.