Birth of Rock 'n' Roll

In the mid-’50s, the raw, rebellious roar of rock ’n’ roll invaded American eardrums, changing the path of pop culture forever. But the piano-pounding abandon of Jerry Lee Lewis’s “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On” and the unhinged wail of Little Richard’s “Tutti Frutti” were only the front line of the rockin’ revolution. Many reckon Jackie Brenston’s 1951 piston-pumper “Rocket 88” — masterminded by Ike Turner — to be rock ’n’ roll’s revved-up birth cry. And in 1954, former Western swing singer Bill Haley beat Elvis Presley’s debut single to the stores by a couple of months with his world-shaking rockabilly rave-up “Rock Around the Clock.”

Kings and queens of rockabilly rule in Next Steps.

A crucial component of rock ’n’ roll’s first wave was the Southern-fried sound of rockabilly, the boppin’ result of white Dixie kids mixing the R&B riffs they loved with the country twang they were raised on. Elvis Presley’s “That’s All Right,” a jumpin’ update of a Big Boy Crudup blues tune, was the tough-talking template. The fretboard fireworks of Gene Vincent’s “Race with the Devil” kick up just as much dust as the song’s roadway rivalry with a satanic speed demon. And Wanda Jackson proved that rockabilly was more than just a man’s game, growling out the downright dangerous-sounding atomic-age explosion “Fujiyama Mama.”

Take the blindfold test between R&B and r ’n’ r in Deep Cuts.

Rock ’n’ roll was born of the still-segregated South in the ’50s, when an artist’s color often determined whether he or she was considered rock or R&B. Tenor-sax titan Red Prysock’s records were found strictly in the rhythm & blues racks, but when you hear him blowing his ever-lovin’ lungs out on “Hand Clappin’,” well, that’s rock ’n’ roll! Fats Domino’s steady-strolling powerhouse “Ain’t That a Shame” didn’t become a dyed-in-the-wool rock standard until after Pat Boone’s cover version turned attention to the tune. And the feline fury of “Leave My Kitten Alone” would become part of the early Beatles repertoire, but it started out as an R&B stomp by a soulful cat called Little Willie John.

The birth of rock ’n’ roll isn’t the kind of event that can be pinpointed to a single time and place. It was the product of a whole generation of musical mavericks bucking convention and playing from the gut, like their lives depended on it. It was Bo Diddley banging out a brand-new beat and unfolding images of urban voodoo on “Who Do You Love?” It was guitar god Duane Eddy, who needed no words at all to stir up trouble on “Rebel Rouser,” relying strictly on six-string snarl. It was the Southern sounds of R&B and the West Coast wail of jump blues coursing through the veins of the country-bred kids who became the first rock ’n’ roll heroes. It was an earth-moving, senses-shattering explosion of sound, but first and foremost, it was a hell of a lot of fun. And it still is, as our guided tour of rock’s first fiery steps will show you.