Tracks: 1) You Left Me; 2) Ain’t It Good; 3) Howdy Podner; 4) Stack And Billy; 5) Would You; 6) Margie; 7) Hands Across The Table; 8) When The Saints Go Marching In; 9) Ida Jane; 10) Lil’ Liza Jane; 11) I'm Gonna Be A Wheel Someday; 12) I Want To Walk You Home.
REVIEW
Considering that he was indeed the oldest and earliest representative of the first rock and roll generation, it was only too fitting that Fats Domino would also be able to boast the first «rock’n’roll comeback», and this is not an entirely subjective statement. Commercially, most of his career through mid-1957 to late 1958 was in decline: the singles were relatively lackluster, tired and derivative, and the albums, as was pointed out in previous reviews, were a mix of new and old stuff, underwhelming in almost all possible ways. It really did look like this was the end of the road for the Fat Man, who’d said all he had to say and now all he had left to say was say the exact same things with ever lessening impact. Just how much of a coincidence was it, really, calling one of his least successful singles ‘Sick And Tired’?
And then, right at the end of 1958, something happened — I have absolutely no idea what it was, but all of a sudden, it was like Fats got himself a new life on the black market. The «revival» was heralded with ‘Whole Lotta Loving’, a short, fast, concentrated explosion of cheerful energy, with perfectly coordinated boogie-woogie piano rolls and a clever little hook where Fats would replace the word "kisses" with actual kissing sounds; this did not exactly break down the Hays Code, but it did call for additional attention, and it somehow made the artist feel younger and sexier, even if in real life Fats Domino was probably far from an ideal of the sexiest man alive. In any case, it became his biggest hit since ‘Valley Of Tears’, about a year and a half ago, and deservedly so. And, miraculously, it was just the beginning.
Admittedly, the decision to follow ‘Whole Lotta Loving’ with ‘When The Saints Go Marching In’ (included on the album) was not a very wise choice — I mean, every respectable New Orleanian artist is probably expected to record the beaten old chestnut sooner or later, but the song does break up a nearly immaculate series of singles, and although they take it at a nice break-neck tempo, there’s practically no piano at all (just a few exultated sax breaks), and the vocal performance is fairly perfunctory. The B-side (not included on the album) was ‘Telling Lies’, a slower piece of R&B in the vein of ‘Ain’t That A Shame’, also with fairly little piano and a pretty unconvincing vocal hook in the chorus (repeating the word "lies" five times in a row does not immediately turn it into an earworm — at least, not into a particularly charming one).
Just as it might have seemed ‘Whole Lotta Loving’ was simply one last gasp of brilliance, Fats brought it all back with ‘I’m Ready’ (again, not included on the album) — which is like ‘I’m Walkin’ on an extra steroid, namely, an expressive piano riff which, in the instrumental section, turns into one of Fats’ most perfectly constructed boogie-woogie solos (Amos Milburn would be so, so proud). The best thing about the song, though, is its vocal melody — there is a peculiarly cool magic to Fats’ phrasing here. The trick is probably to keep as formally calm and collected as possible — all those "I’m ready... and I’m willin’... and I’m able..." sound like a military person’s stern and decisive replys to being offered a dangerous mission, except that Fats’ mission is to put you on the road to rock’n’roll excitement, and by applying military discipline to this faster-than-lightning performance he really turns ‘I’m Ready’, with relatively little effort, into one of the finest pop-rock anthems of his generation. You don’t even hear the song covered too often by other artists because it is unclear how it could ever be improved upon (the Searchers did a fine, passable version in 1965, but still added nothing to the excitement level of the original; meanwhile, The Band really overdid the production for their take on Moondog Matinee).
The commercial and creative successes continued with ‘I’m Gonna Be A Wheel Someday’, another instantly recognizable Domino-Bartholomew classic, set to the same frantic rhythmic pace as ‘I’m Ready’ and much more guitar- and sax-driven than its predecessor, but every bit as inspired when it comes to the vocal performance. Again, it is the combination of collected, concentrated decisiveness in Fats’ vocal tone and the speed factor — speed is of the utmost essence here! — that can drive a listener crazy. "I’M GONNA be a wheel someday, I’M GONNA be somebody, I’M GONNA be a real gone cat...", a fast triple punch that knocks you down before you can set up any critical defenses. It’s not that faster than ‘When The Saints’, but it feels twice as lively and insistent, even without the piano — I do believe, though, that part of the secret is also concealed in that scratchy rhythm guitar part that never lets go throughout the song, keeping the energy level steady high at all times. All of this makes Fats in this era about as proverbially rock-and-roll as he would ever be, temporarily transcending the «New Orleans» stamp of quality and, for a brief shining moment, making him the rock’n’roll star of 1959, in that era when Little Richard, Chuck Berry, and even Elvis would fall behind in the race, for various reasons.
That said, the slow and sensitive B-side, ‘I Want To Walk You Home’, sounded as New Orleanian as they come, written and recorded around the traditional slow R&B shuffle, but remade with a variety of extra touches — there is that electric guitar again, for one thing, echoing each of Fats’ lines in the chorus, replacing the same old predictable brass backing to make for a far more intimate performance: it really feels like the guitar is playing the role of Fats’ little girlfriend here, consenting to his insistent, but gentlemanly courting. And that combination of a smooth, delicate attitude with an atmosphere of stalking is what makes the song so memorable — in live versions of the song, I have sometimes heard him extending the final "that’s why I want to walk you home, that’s why I want to walk you home..." to at least twice as many bars as we have here on the fadeout, playing the perfect smooth criminal to his audience. It’s not at all creepy, though — just the conduct of a man who knows he has to work real hard to win his lady’s heart. Quite charismatic, in fact.
With all this newly found inspiration behind his belt, it is little wonder that Let’s Play With Fats Domino ends up being Fats’ most consistent LP since at least Here Stands Fats Domino, or maybe even earlier than that, because there is one major advantage here — for the first time ever, the LP does not feel like a mix of creaky, leaky old recordings with a couple of contemporary singles, but rather feels like a brand new collection of songs that go together very well. Which is all the more impressive considering that most of these LP-only tracks are older recordings (dating as far back as 1953!), yet somehow they fished an impressive number of outstanding outtakes from the bottom of the barrel, some of which deserve special mention and discussion.
First, the lead-in number ‘You Left Me’, originally recorded in September 1953, is one of Fats’ best ever ballads — very minimalistic in terms of vocals and lyrics, precisely so that more emphasis could be made on Fats’ piano playing. The instrumental part, in which he mixes nervous trills, barrelhouse rolls, and classical glissandos all over the place, is about as «virtuoso» a performance as he ever got on tape, and perfectly conveys the feeling of emotional confusion and chaos, verbally introduced by "you left me all by myself, and I feel so bad". It’s baffling how this little masterpiece managed to stay under the table for six long years, and it’s great to have it here as a reminder of how technically and creatively gifted the man could be at the piano, once a bit of improvisational spirituality managed to take precedence over pure catchiness and rock’n’roll excitement.
Another highlight is ‘Stack & Billy’, Fats’ typically New Orleanian comical take on the classic motif of ‘Stagger Lee’; the angle itself might be just a novelty bit, but the element that truly distinguishes the song is an expressive electric guitar flourish, one that you would normally expect to be included in a solo or confined to a lead-in phrase — but here, it is actually turned into a looping riff that carries the entire song, adding a degree of «hyper-activity» to the atmosphere. One might even find it annoying — there is, after all, a good reason why such things are rarely favored by pop artists — but I’d prefer the word «amusing», and it certainly makes the song stand out among a myriad of similarly sounding and indistinguishable tracks (a similar looping riff also drives ‘Ida Jane’ on the same album, but the guitar is much more quiet in the mix, making the song command your attention with much less insistence).
The rest of the filler tracks aren’t all that memorable, but they’re still fun, like ‘Howdy Podner’ with its exaggerated accent; ‘Hands Across The Table’ with its cute lyricism ("hands across the table meet so gently / and they say in their little way / that you belong to me" is just such a Fats Domino thing to say); or ‘Margie’, the original B-side to ‘I’m Ready’ with a rather extraordinary, convoluted verse structure where Fats even has to break up his singing rhythm in order to fit in the lyrics. The best news about these songs is that they do not immediately convey the feeling of merely being uninspired re-writes of something better — more like timid tweaks of known formulae that don’t work too well.
Meanwhile, Fats’ winning streak for 1959 continues with ‘Be My Guest’, released even later in the year; this one takes the old formula of ‘I’m In Love Again’ and tweaks the beat just enough to get a more poppy than bluesy feel out of the melody, making it more danceable without losing the Domino flair. The B-side, ‘I’ve Been Around’, is slowed down, putting the beat back on the second measure, and made into a rhythmic ballad with the usual simplistic love message; you may perhaps better know the Animals’ cover of the song, which they conversely sped up (and ultimately spoiled by replacing the isolated lead vocal with a silly, quasi-chipmunk choral approach), but the Animals only do Fats better than Fats when he is not being romantic, and ‘I’ve Been Around’ is about as romantic as Fats ever gets.
Great review! I was waiting until when you would get to Fats "comeback" (even though it was really a brief lull), and you're right, a lot of these songs are magnificent. I would complain that I feel some of these songs are a tad too poppy, and I prefer the mix of grit and pop perfection of his earliest material. But you're also right in saying that the direction he charted starting with "I'm Walkin" was really the purest rock 'n' roll essence of Fats, so it would be a crying shame that he didn't explore this exciting rock 'n' roll sound even more. Thank god for this comeback for allowing for this exploration to continue!
"Whole Lotta Loving" is actually a contender for my favorite Fats song ever, mainly because of how well it nails his essence. I feel the thing you said about Buddy Holly retaining that feeling of "puppy love" actually applies more to Fats, where all of his songs have this priceless child-like warmth element to them that makes even his filler passable, and on "Whole Lotta Loving," that pure enthusiastic excitement in those rolling piano chords is just unbeatable. "I'm Ready" and "I'm Gonna Be A Wheel Some Day" are also equally wonderful, and you're really right about I'm Ready. It's really a song that needed the main focus to be on that infectious rhythm, so the vocal melody needed to emphasize that and having a loud, passionate vocal performance would hurt the song.
Not much more to comment on the other great songs you already talked about. I'm not really sure why you don't really like his version of "Saints," seeing how it's generally pretty well done with a fast, driving tempo. The only complaint I have about this sequence of songs really is that I wish that "I've Been Around" had a thicker musical arrangement, which where the Animals have them beat by a little bit (though I still prefer Fats's version in the end).
Speaking of which, will you eventually be reviewing anything by Lloyd Price? I think he released his debut album in 1959.