Chuck Berry - Hail! Hail! Rock 'n' Roll

If you were to try and give rock 'n' roll another name, you might call it Chuck Berry.

Right. In the 1950s, a whole generation worshipped his music,

and when you see him perform today, past and present all come together...

and the message is, "Hail, hail, rock 'n' roll."

Right on.

Oh!

You know, the only song I ever tried to sing of his is "Mabellene."

I get far as the Cadillac up on the hill and--

And you let it go up the hill by itself. No, it went.

Whoa!

I remember driving by a place in Nashville.

I must've been 16, driving home from a date,

and, um, "Mabellene" was playing out--

You could hear it coming out of the club, you know, as we rolled by.

And so we rolled down the window, stopped and used to listen.

He's the King of Rock 'n' Roll.

My mama even said that.

I said, "What about me, Mama?"

She said, "Well, now, son, you're ver-- you're different.

You sing slow songs, but Chuck Berry's rock 'n' roll."

I said, "Why, all this time, I thought I was."

She said, "Well, your habits are pretty good, but you're no Chuck Berry."

My favorite song with Chuck... is all of 'em.

I like all of 'em!

I-I've always-- Chuck, really, to be truthful,

not puttin' Bo down, not puttin' Fats down,

but if I didn't say this, God knows I'd be lyin'.

To the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob,

my God that I love so much-- and I keep Your Holy Sabbath every Saturday...

from sunrise to sunset-- I must say this: He's my favorite rock artist,

and he always have been, and I think that--

I've never told the world this, but...

his rhythm is the only rhythm that I can sing myself too.

And it fits. If I say anything about Chuck, Chuck is--

If Chuck don't go up on stage, I know it's gonna be really tough on me.

Wow. So this is what you wanted to see.

This is it: the Cosmopolitan Club.

That's what 30 years can do for ya.

Gee, birthplace of "Mabellene."

Okay.

Jesus. Look at this. Wow.

Oh, man, this breaks my heart.

They must've had a flood here or something.

Mmm, look at this place.

My beautiful Cosmopolitan,

and many beautiful nights as we had in here.

Look at this. This is something.

It's a far cry from the way it was when I was here back in '51, '52.

Drew three to four hundred people every weekend-- Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

Twenty-one dollars. We were here for three years.

Three years. Johnnie Johnson Trio,

until I took it over and it got to be Chuck Berry Trio.

Chuck Berry came to me and asked me about changin' the name...

from the Johnnie Johnson Trio to the Chuck Berry Trio,

which, uh-- which was perfectly okay with me,

because Chuck was more of a go-getter and, uh,

he seemed to know more about the business than I did,

and I figured with him as a leader we would have more jobs and a better success.

I had two day jobs. I worked with my father...

whenever I didn't have anything else to do.

But mainly when I started working at the automobile plant,

that's when the money started comin' in: $91 a week.

I was cuttin' pretty good too, because I had a family, you know,

and, uh, $21 here and $91 there--

A hundred dollars a week, you can do pretty good.

Music is-- was a sideline, you know.

I was a carpenter and a painter, you know.

About a year after I started working here,

uh, I asked-- I'm in the painting business, you know, fixing up.

I had an idea about just putting the, uh, ceilings in black.

And, uh, as I painted them black, I had the idea and went on on my own...

to paint, uh, the top of it real dark, dark blue in ovals.

And then at the high point of the oval,

I just painted a snow-capped mountain,

and they went all around this, all around, all the way around the building,

excepting behind the bar where the mirrors are.

I got $450 for that,

and compared to $21 a weekend,

that's like six months of playing.

That's the reason why I'll never let that, uh, painting and decorating go.

It's, uh, money. Money in that.

But there had to be something that drove you towards...

trying to make a life as a professional musician.

Oh, when the money got larger, I'd put the paintbrush down,

pick the pick up and fiddle.

Oh, yeah. It got bigger.

As a matter of fact, I left here...

making $42 a night...

and went straight to Gleason's Bar in Cleveland...

at $800 a week.

It felt great. When I showed my brother the contract,

he said, "You mean to tell me--

Yeah, well, that's the way it is."

From then on, I found out that you make more and more as the years go by.

Oh, baby!

That's what started me to thinkin' that I could go professional,

because the crowds we had on the weekends were jam-packed.

I said if I can do it here, I can do it in Cleveland, do it in Miami.

And when I went up to Chicago where Leonard Chess and Chess records were,

that was the launching of my career.

I went up there with a $79 recorder and played that, you know,

'cause I'm not gonna play guitar in front of a stranger.

Well, he said, "It sounds good." He was listening to the lyrics.

And the name of the song, I had it named "Ida Red,"

not knowing that I couldn't name it the same title of a song already out.

And "Mabellene" sounds just like "Ida Red" rhythmically, so I named it "Mabellene."

And, uh, evidently he liked it,

because he told me to get the band and come up and he'd consider a recording contract.

I said, "When? Yesterday?"

He said, "No. Whenever you can."

So the next Friday, when Johnnie got off from his job, we went up there,

and Saturday we recorded "Mabellene," "Wee, Wee Hours," "Too Much Monkey--"

By the way, I had these songs written during that week.

"Too Much Monkey Business" and, I think, "Roll Over, Beethoven."

And, uh, we did all four of them in less than six hours.

"Mabellene" had 36 takes, by the way. I remember.

You wrote four songs in one week?

Oh, yeah. It wasn't too hard to write, because I'd been making up songs--

verses, that is-- on the bandstand to other people's songs.

I'd take my verses and put 'em to the same rhythm and I was on my way.

You know, poetry is my blood flow.

We're gonna hear some blues tonight...

'Cause I'm sorry I left the Cosmopolitan,

but I'm glad I made that money.

It helped out quite a bit, you know?

Wow!

When I first took the song to Leonard Chess,

we recorded in Chess Studios.

Naturally, I was the only writer, because it came from Missouri...

in a basement in my house.

And when the record came out, it was Russ Fratto and Alan Freed and Chuck Berry.

You know, who are these guys, you know?

I knew Alan Freed. I heard him on the radio.

He was the disc jockey in New York that played the record.

Who is Russ Fratto? He's-- He owns a stenography store--

a stationery store next to-- who supplied Leonard with his stationery.

Uh, why they were on it didn't matter to me.

I didn't know that was a split of the monies,

but when I got my royalties, I saw one third.

Anybody can easily figure it out. I'm good at mathematics.

I was only-- I'm only getting a third of this, you know.

So that was in the days of payola when, uh--

when you did something for somebody, you got a cut of whatever the issue was.

Money-- You know, I'd sit up all night lookin' at the contracts,

you know, tryin' to figure out how I was gonna make any money out of two--

two-- No, half a cent per record.

Half a cent? Half a cent per record.

We had to sell two records to make a penny. Right.

A record cost 59 cents, didn't it? Yeah.

Well, there were 58 other pennies going somewhere. Uh-uh.

I, uh-- Ooh, boy.

Yeah, I majored in math. I was lookin' at the other 58 cents.

I majored in mouth.

I was doin' the talkin' and no walkin'. Didn't make nothin'.

Couldn't even understand the contract. I looked at it.

All I wanted to see was "Little Richard." When I saw that, I didn't even read the other part.

You feel your way when you don't know.

Sometimes you step on rocks. Sometimes you get your head bumped. But not twice.

That's a smart man. Don't let the same dog bite you twice.

How ya doin', Chuck?

Chuck's made a whole new show business,

doing things on the road the Chuck Berry way.

As a entertainer and as a businessman/entertainer,

he just does things different than most people do.

Chuck doesn't have a big entourage, doesn't have a band with him.

He likes to go by himself, leaves the job by himself.

You know, promoters offer limousines and such, and he doesn't care.

This is Chuck Berry, that's all. This is just Chuck Berry doin' it his way.

One-nighters, that's all I ever do. One-nighters.

Where's all your luggage?

No luggage. Just a guitar underneath.

Comb, toothbrush-- that's it.

That's the way I do it.

You check your guitar in baggage?

Yeah, once in about six months.

After that, get a new one.

Uh, deductible, you know. Tools?

Chuck has always caught the imagination of the kids--

not only the young black kids, but the white kids, from the beginning of his career.

He's been able to keep the old ones and bring the new generation all the time.

The 15-, 16-year-olds, as they come in, as they hear Chuck on the oldies stations,

like it, know it's good music and just stay with it.