Artist of the Week 10/15/12: Carl Perkins
Well, It's One for the Money...Two for the Show...
When Clams informed me that yes, Carl Perkins was still available, I was pretty surprised. This Artist of the Week feature is long overdue, in my estimation. We all seem to know OF Carl Perkins, but we really don't know that much ABOUT Carl Perkins, aside from his Blue Suede Shoes and his Cadillac. That is an absolute shame.
I don't own many Carl Perkins records (as they're very hard for me to find), yet Carl sees a lot of rotation on my turntable. So many of the songs, sounds and artists in my collection would have never fully come into being were it not for Carl Perkins. As relatively obscure as he seems to be, his influence is profound and far-reaching.
He's widely considered the founding father of rockabilly music. I hope that the work presented here does this ol' country boy justice.
Lake County Cotton Country
Carl Lee Perkins, the Rockabilly King, was born to white sharecroppers on April 9, 1932. A black midwife attended his mother Louise during the birth, as the doctor was not due to make the rounds in Tiptonville, Tennessee, for another few days.
In the bed next to Louise lay Carl's father, Buck Perkins, deathly ill with pneumonia. The county doctor doubted Buck stood much of a chance, but if he could pull through that night...He miraculously did survive the eve of his second son's birth and eventually fully recovered from his illness, though he would be plagued with a chronic cough and weak lungs for the rest of his life.
Carl was working in the cotton fields as early as six years old, alongside his older brother James Buck (called Jay B., born 1930), and, later, his younger brother Clayton (born 1935). Carl and Jay B. quickly proved their worth to the Perkins family clan with their dogged work ethic. By the time he was ten years old, Carl could pick 300 lb of cotton a day, out-picking his older brother by 50 lb. (Clayton, on the other hand, was lazy by nature and would rather endure one of Buck's whuppings than pick cotton all day.)
One of the fellow sharecroppers whom young Carl struck up a friendship with was "Uncle John" Westbrook, a grizzled black man well in his 60's. Uncle John owned a guitar, and after the sun set and the fields emptied, would sit on his porch and strum, singing gospel and blues songs to no one in particular. Carl, who was already enchanted by the Grand Ole Opry performances his father would pipe in on their radio, wanted to learn the guitar himself. After playing around with a makeshift toy fashioned from a broom handle and a cigar box, his father scraped together a few pennies to buy Carl's first real guitar from a neighbor - a scratched, dented Gene Autry signature model. Carl would take his guitar over to Uncle John's after supper, and took lessons from the old sharecropper. Frustrated that he couldn't seem to "get the soul into his fingers" when he tried to mimic Uncle John's blues riffs, the young boy was given a piece of advice he would keep in his head for the rest of his days - "Let it vib-a-rate."
Carl heard and hearkened to the techniques of several musicians he listened to on the radio. Roy Acuff, Bill Monroe, Bob Wills, Ernest Tubb (and Tubb's guitarist Billy Byrd), Jimmie Rodgers, Red Foley, and Hank Williams, among countless blues and R&B artists, all had a hand in constructing what would soon become Carl's signature sound. On most nights, he'd lay awake in the bed he shared with his brothers, laying on the opposite end of Jay B. with Clayton sandwiched in between them, his left hand forming imaginary chords as the songs he'd heard on the radio played over and over in his mind. In no time at all, Carl was a pretty accomplished guitarist. He first performed with his 4th grade school band, and could always be called upon to provide a few songs at community and family gatherings. He was determined that one day, he, too, would be able to leave the cotton fields behind and make it all the way to the Opry stage.
Carl could solo pretty well, but he lacked substance in his sound. In 1944, he convinced his brother Jay B. to take up rhythm guitar and spent several hours teaching him the chords. It was initially a tough job, Jay B.'s fingers clumsy and stumbling at first, but it wasn't long before he got the hang of it. Used to long, monotonous work in the fields, the beat he kept was sure, steady, and always on the mark. The brothers became a duo, Carl taking vocals on Bill Monroe covers while Jay B.'s deeper voice lent itself to Ernest Tubb songs (Jay B.'s favorite artist).
As the cotton fields became increasingly mechanized, and the need for manual labor dropped off, Buck Perkins packed his family and all their worldly possessions into his car and relocated to the outer reaches of Bemis, Tennessee in 1946. Carl left the one-room shack of his childhood behind without looking back. Over forty years would pass before he ever set foot in Tiptonville again.
Honky Tonkin'
Carl refused to return to the cotton fields upon arriving in the Jackson, TN, area. He worked a variety of jobs, from milking and delivering for Day's Dairy, to upholstering at Bond's Mattress Factory, to working as a pan greaser at Colonial Bakery before devoting himself to his music full-time in 1953.
Carl got his start in music playing the honky tonks, a type of nightclub heavily populated by rural white Southerners that provided liquor and live entertainment at the end of a long day (the tonks were also incredibly notorious for violence - some tonks had a barrier of chicken wire erected in front of the stage to protect musicians from flying chairs, fists and bottles). Carl and Jay B. started out playing one night a week at a tonk called the Cotton Boll in late 1946, touting themselves simply as "the Perkins Brothers." Their popularity quickly grew, and were soon being booked into tonks all over town every night of the week.
It was around this time in 1946 that Carl composed his first original song. Later titled "Movie Magg," the song's vivid, darkly humorous imagery and uptempo beat made it a favorite not only among Carl's family, but the tonk crowd as well. The dating on this piece also proves that Carl was writing and performing rockabilly music long before Elvis first set foot in a studio. As an initial songwriting venture for a fourteen-year-old kid, it's very impressive:
A further note on Carl's early songwriting - Carl seemed to have an uncanny knack for making up verses on the spot, once he had a melody and chorus down. Much of Carl's early work was never able to be truly recreated in the studio because he'd forget some of his best lines before ever writing them down. It was only later, much in part to the insistence of people like his wife Val, Sam Phillips and Johnny Cash, that Carl got in the habit of taking the time to write down his lyrics as he made them up.
Carl and Jay B. worked well together as a duo act, collecting money from the tonk patrons in a little cigar box they left at the front of the stage, but they were looking to grow their act, and, with it, their income and notoriety. After many failed attempts, Carl finally convinced Clayton to take up the upright bass fiddle. Though unsure of how to handle the instrument at first, Clayton had become a permanent fixture to the group by 1948. In late 1953, a friend of Clayton's named W. S. Holland would laughingly join the brothers on stage, helping his pal beat the hell out of his bass. Carl, noticing the driving rhythm Holland could keep when playing with Clayton, told him to get a drum set. Despite the fact that he knew nothing about being a drummer (to the point that he didn't even assemble his set correctly), Holland agreed and backed the brothers up in the tonks. The "Perkins Brothers" had thus evolved into "the Perkins Brothers Band."
Here's a video of the Perkins Brothers Band at their finest, performing another song (and fascinating character study) Carl Perkins penned about his tonk days, "Dixie Fried."
Carl didn't only play the tonks in those early years. Often, the Perkins Brothers Band would appear at local amateur contests. They proved to be a useful source of income. Nearly every time they entered, they came away with first prize - five dollars. They also made a couple of appearances on local radio, though the band members weren't as keen on this as Carl, and he usually went on the air solo. These radio spots culminated in a fifteen-minute segment sponsored by Mother's Best Flour on Uncle Tom's Early Morning Farm and Home Hour. The popular local program helped expand Carl's audience, though the show ended abruptly when Uncle Tom died.
In the meantime, Carl had also sent a few demo tapes of his songs to different record labels around the country. The tapes were never returned, or worse, sent back. Some producers included encouraging notes that they found Carl's music interesting, but didn't think they'd be able to market it. It wasn't until 1954, while sitting at home in Jackson, TN, with his wife Valda that Carl heard Elvis's cover of Bill Monroe's "Blue Moon of Kentucky" on the radio for the first time. With it came the realization that someone in Memphis understood the type of music he was performing, and was willing to go out on a limb and record it. Without further ado, he loaded Jay, Clayton, and their instruments into his car and headed down Highway 70 toward Memphis.
Go, Cat, Go!
When Carl first arrived at 706 Union Ave, he was turned away by Sam Phillips's secretary, who told him the label simply wasn't interested in anyone who did Elvis's music - they already had Elvis himself. Down but not out, Carl returned to his car and waited for Sam Phillips himself to pull up outside the studio. Carl didn't know the man by sight, but quickly figured out who the man had to be. He leapt out of his car and blocked Sam's entrance to the studio, begging him for an audition. A little reluctantly, Sam told him to set up his band; he'd give them just a quick listen.
In the studio, the Perkins boys started up a couple of Jay's Ernest Tubb covers, but Sam quickly cut them off. He wasn't interested in another Ernest Tubb. Jay B. was angry, but Carl wanted to give the audition one last shot. He then launched into his own song, "Movie Magg," and this time, the band made it all the way through without being stopped. Sam really liked the song. In it, he saw Carl Perkins as a marketable country artist. He asked Carl to write a country ballad to back it and they'd have themselves a record. He also gave Carl a parting caution - it was only Carl's songs and Carl's voice he wanted to record, not Jay B.'s.
Carl returned a few weeks later with Sam's prototypical country ballad, "Turn Around," and the Perkins Brothers Band cut their first single at Sun. The recording of "Turn Around" also featured, in addition to the band, session musicians Stan Kesler, Quentin Claunch, and Bill Cantrell (the latter two hailing from Muscle Shoals, AL). The single was released in 1955 to positive reception in the South. Carl and his band saw themselves playing better venues to better crowds, even opening for Elvis Presley himself a couple of times.
Carl enjoyed the loose, carefree atmosphere that accompanied the band's recording sessions at Sun. They would enter in the afternoon for their session and possibly not re-emerge until 3 or 4 in the morning a couple of days later. They were given time to work up a song before the tapes rolled, and then cut it 3 or 4 times until they had the perfect take. They could sit around, chat, and come up with more material to record, punctuating it all with swigs of Early Times whiskey. This environment was conducive to bringing out the best in the artist, and Carl laid down in these sessions not only some of his best guitar work, but most of his best self-penned songs.
This included his most famous work, "Blue Suede Shoes" (see 'Carl Perkins' Cadillac' below for details). After the success of "Shoes," Carl became a permanent fixture on the early rock 'n roll scene.
On December 4, 1956, Carl went into Sun for another session, which produced "Your True Love" and "Matchbox" (inspired by a line from a Blind Lemon Jefferson song, "Matchbox Blues." Aside from the same opening verse, the songs are entirely different), backed by Jerry Lee Lewis on piano. Later, when Elvis showed up, the session became the famed "Million Dollar Quartet" session (Johnny Cash stopped by before Elvis and made most of his contributions before Sam started rolling tape - he left shortly after being photographed with the group).
Carl never again had a successful record after "Shoes." Every one of his records seem to fade without ever making an impression on the market. In a pattern that would repeat for the rest of his life, every record sale indicated that he was a commercial flop. Toward the end of his Sun years, Sam hardly ever released any songs that Carl wrote (most of them remained in the can for decades before seeing the light of day). Carl increasingly cut covers, which hurt more than helped his career - Carl's voice lacked the conviction it carried on his own songs. He was given another cover, "Glad All Over," to perform for the movie "Jamboree" in 1957, which sunk almost instantly (while Jerry Lee's cover for the same movie, "Great Balls of Fire," topped the national country and pop charts). Below is Carl's performance from that movie. The coolest part to watch is Carl playing his 1957 Les Paul gold-top solid body:
Carl Perkins biographer David McGee comments on his songwriting: "Of the early rock 'n roll songwriters, Carl's songs were the most subjective in narrative line...He was an artist who drew his best material from his own life in the fields, in the tonks, and from having inhabited the lowest strata of the American working class. His memories were of a time and place quickly receding into history...his least successful Sun recordings had been his least personal songs, in which he had struggled to find common ground between his experiences and those described in the lyrics." His work contained "character, detail, humor, a smidgen of anxiety, and a point of view relevant to the working life Carl knew well." In essence, Carl Perkins was the real deal. He was, in all actuality, too real for the increasingly insipid, pop-centered culture of mainstream rock 'n roll. (I really don't buy the cock-and-bull jargon that Carl was considered "too old" to rock; he was 23 years old when he recorded "Blue Suede Shoes." If that's old, then the artists carrying Carl's flame today are decrepit.)
Carl trusted and respected Sam Phillips during his tenure at Sun, despite his wife Val's insisting that Sam wasn't paying Carl the correct royalties owed him. Their estrangement would come twenty years later, when Carl would finally take Sam to court (it amounted to Sam owing and handing Carl $36,000 in unpaid royalties). In late life, Carl continued to acknowledge how vital Sam was to his music and career, even conceding that leaving Sun was the worst mistake he ever made - but he never forgave Sam for taking money that Carl needed to support his family. There were other reasons why Carl chose to leave the Sun label in 1957. He wanted more time off the road to spend with his young family. He was also tired of Sam's excessive fawning over his new golden boy, Jerry Lee. He and Cash signed to Columbia records, and Carl's new contract began in 1958.
Carl Perkins' Cadillac
This section is considerably the most well-known portion of Carl Perkins' story. The tale of how Carl came to write "Blue Suede Shoes" is steeped in lore; the facts presented here are the best, and most reliable, that I could piece together:
It was originally Johnny Cash's idea for Carl to write a song about blue suede shoes. He knew a guy he served with in the Air Force, a black man named C. V. White, that used to wear the shoes with his uniform when he went into town for an evening and was known to remark, "Don't step on my suedes, man!" Cash thought there was a song lurking behind that figure, but he knew he wasn't the one to write it. He told the story to Carl, but Carl didn't think he was up to the task, either. After all, he said, "I didn't know anything about them shoes."
Then, on October 21, 1955, while playing a venue called the Supper Club for a Union University crowd in Jackson, Tennessee, Carl noticed a young man and his date dancing really close to the stage. They were particularly lively, seeming to put all their wild enthusiasm into their dancing, which caught Carl's eye. Of a sudden, the couple stopped and the boy chastised his date for stepping on his blue suede shoes, scratching a white mark across the toe. The girl spent the rest of the concert anxiously trying to apologize for her mistake, while the boy remained sullen.
The couple captivated Carl's imagination and provided the proper spark to finally write that blue suede shoes song. Upon arriving back home at his apartment at 3 a.m., Carl went straight to work, playing with different chord structures and writing down the lyrics on a paper potato sack. In the morning, he played his finished song first for Valda, then for the rest of the band as they came over to work it up. Right away, Carl knew he finally had his hit. He called Sam, but it would be another month or so before he finally went into Sun to record it.
That December, he finally received the summons from Sam he'd been waiting for - "Let's hear that Shoes song you've been raving about." During that session, Carl not only cut what would become his golden rendition of "Blue Suede Shoes," but also tracked "Honey Don't," "Tennessee," and "Sure to Fall." Sam, wildly enthusiastic about "Shoes," ordered rush pressings of the single backed with "Honey Don't."
The rest, as they say, is history.
Here's the only full live version of "Blue Suede Shoes" I can find on YouTube from the era it was written, backed with the Perkins Brothers Band on the Tex Ritter Show in 1957 ("Your True Love" is also included in this video):
Carl's song, which took its place in history as the rock 'n roll anthem of the 1950s, could not stay on the shelves. Repeated pressings of the Sun single had to be ordered. It rose to the number one spot on the national charts within two months of its release. Carl became the first artist to top the pop, R&B, and country charts with the same record. It even out-performed Elvis's first single for RCA, "Heartbreak Hotel."
"Blue Suede Shoes" also became Sun's first million-seller and earned Carl a Cadillac. Despite his protestations to the contrary, Cooley delivers an accurate rendition of the Carl Perkins' Cadillac story in the video below:
(Just so that part of the lore is covered and saves a zillion comments on this thread regarding that subject). Sam certainly did take a significant portion of Carl's royalties - the check he received for the sales of "Blue Suede Shoes" amounted to $12,000. Others' reactions when they learned of the amount mirrored his wife Val's: "You're kidding. That can't be all!" But Carl, ever the simple country boy, had never possessed an amount close to $12,000 before. He'd never owned a Cadillac, either. In his eyes, he was doing all right. That is, until a car accident in 1956 abruptly ended Carl's stay in the spotlight (see 'A Troubled Soul' below for details). His fame would never again achieve such a height.
The King & I
Despite accursedly being forever (unfairly) compared to Elvis, Carl saw Presley as a kindred soul. He empathized with the boy's stuttering shyness, and took pity on his terrible case of stage fright (Carl took care of his own nerves with a few belts of Early Times). He stood up for Elvis whenever Jay B. disparagingly referred to him as "a sissy," and remained on friendly terms with the King of Rock 'n Roll for the rest of his life. Elvis, often accused of "stealing Carl's thunder" by covering "Blue Suede Shoes" while Carl was still laid up in the hospital, recorded it as a tribute to his good friend. Elvis was admiring and enthusiastic about Carl's music; he loved everything of Carl's from the first time he heard it played back, and often on local radio spots would promote Carl's latest single.
Carl was notably also the first (and last) performer to ever upstage Elvis. Johnny Cash opened a show in Amory, Mississippi, in the fall of 1955, with Carl performing second. Carl blazed through his set, getting the crowd so worked up that when Elvis, who was headlining the show, came out, he was received with chants of, "We want Carl! We want Carl!" He worked furiously through his numbers to quiet the calls, but Carl eventually did make an encore appearance. Coincidentally, the very same thing happened the following night in Helena, Arkansas. Elvis never played on the same bill with Carl again, though the incident didn't do much to cool their friendship.
As their careers forked in two widely different paths, they hardly ever saw each other. The last time Carl saw Elvis, he and Val were attending a Presley concert in Jackson, Tennessee, one month before Elvis died. Carl, who watched from the back through binoculars, hardly recognized his friend. Elvis looked like a fat, tired, pathetic impersonator of himself. Carl knew something was wrong with him. He tried a couple of times to see him at Graceland, but he was always turned away at the gate. With the news of Elvis's death in 1977 came a terrible shock and a wave of remorse. Carl always felt that if he'd been persistent enough, he'd have been admitted and gotten through to Elvis. But instead, he gave up.
Carl partook in paying tribute to his friend for the remainder of his life, the most notable being his leading a moving rendition of "Battle Hymn of the Republic" for an Elvis tribute performance in 1992, himself sick and weak from his ongoing battle with throat cancer.
Brother From a Different Mother
Carl first met Johnny Cash at the Sun studio in 1955. From the very beginning, the two were closer than friends, sharing so much common ground. Cash himself eloquently enumerates these similarities in the liner notes of one of Carl's records:
"Carl Perkins and I have almost too much in common not to be brothers, so I consider him a brother.
We were raised within a few miles from each other. He on the Tennessee side of the Mississippi River, I on the Arkansas side.
We both lived on a poor cotton farm. We both started writing songs and poems at about the same time. We started in the music business about the same time, in 1955. We both had our first hit about the same time.
The parallels go on and on. Even little things, like on the forefinger of our left hands is a little scar in the shape of an "X" from whittling when we were kids.
On both our right legs is a scar in the same place from a barbed wire fence.
In many ways our hearts are scarred alike, also. We both lost an older brother. We both almost destroyed ourselves from bad habits. We both stopped trying to destroy ourselves about the same time."
Just as Cash played a hand in the creation of "Blue Suede Shoes," Carl was instrumental in the construction of Cash's first big hit. While struggling to stay faithful to his wife out on the road (a problem Carl never wrestled with), Cash wrote the first couple of verses of a song on the subject while backstage at a show in 1956. He then played them for Carl. The ensuing dialogue, as remembered by Cash, is as follows:
Cash: What do you think? I'm calling it "Because You're Mine."
Carl: Hmm...Y'know, "I Walk the Line" would be a better title.
Carl also contributed a vital member of Cash's band. In 1961, after the Perkins Brothers Band had ground to a halt (as the result of Jay B.'s death), and a brief stint as Carl Mann's manager, W.S. Holland became Johnny Cash's drummer. There he remained, forever transforming the Tennessee Two into the Tennessee Three.
While at Columbia, Carl even spun his own take on Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues." Below is the rare audio performance of that cover:
In 1966, after Carl had just signed to the Dollie label, Cash asked him to join his troupe out on the road. Carl would remain with Cash's act for the next 10 years, even (with some trepidation) stepping into the lead guitarist hole left by Luther Perkins (no relation) when he unexpectedly passed away in 1968. Carl proved to be a more than able replacement in the interval before Cash finally found his new permanent guitarist, Bob Wooten.
My first recognition of Carl's great work with the Cash troupe came when I finally heard the complete recording of the revered 1969 San Quentin prison show. My favorite number of the entire show quickly became the lively gospel tune, "The Old Account Was Settled Long Ago," which was, sadly, left off of the LP release. Below is a terrific video of Cash and Carl doing an excellent rendition of the song on the Johnny Cash Show (I'd date this video around 1970, as June is conspicuously absent from this version):
Carl was also responsible for writing one of Johnny Cash's hits. In 1968, while sitting alone on the tour bus and playing around with the Carter family's gospel standard, "Will the Circle Be Unbroken," Carl made up the opening verse to what would become "Daddy Sang Bass." Cash heard the song while Carl was composing it and felt very strongly about recording it. So strongly, in fact, that he went against Columbia's wishes by releasing it as his follow-up single to "A Boy Named Sue." Cash's feelings about Carl's song proved true, as the single became a number one country record for three months and clinched a nomination for the Country Music Association's 1969 Song of the Year.
Below is an audio recording of Carl performing his self-penned gospel tune that became a hit for Johnny Cash, "Daddy Sang Bass":
I, too, loved this song from the very first time I heard it. So much of it - the imagery, the spiritualism conveyed through the music - "singing seems to help a troubled soul" - seem to ring true to not only what all music with country/folk roots represents, but the origins of and the reasons why this music exists (and that encompasses many existing genres of music today, not just modern country/folk music). It's an incredible piece of writing, in the sense that by evoking a singular remembrance or experience, a common, all-relating vein is struck. "Daddy Sang Bass" is a prime example of Carl's great songwriting abilities.
Carl left the Cash troupe in 1976, due to budget and staff cuts being made in the Cash clan coupled with a desire to strike out on his own once more. Though no longer touring with Cash, Carl's path remained entwined with his, the two still brothers to the end.
"The Beatle-Crusher"
In 1963, while signed to Decca, Carl (prompted by producer Bill Denny), embarked with Chuck Berry on a tour of England. The trip proved to be a much-needed shot in the arm for Carl, who at that moment felt ready to give up on the music business altogether. He was embraced by the British fans in a way he hadn't seen since the height of his popularity at Sun. Carl and his rockabilly music had quite a sizable following in England. The reception revitalized Carl, who went into a recording session overseas in late May, backed this time by British rockabilly band, the Nashville Teens.
When Carl's song "Matchbox" was released in the US, it quickly faded away into nothing more than another flop. Unbeknownst to Carl, however, four British teens had heard the song and were absolutely captivated by it. It was Carl's strong influence that led them to become the British rock sensation, the Beatles. They finally met Carl at a dinner party in late May, and Carl was pleasantly surprised by the detailed interest they showed in his music - they wanted to know what key this song was in, how he fingered his guitar solo on that song. They invited him to their recording session at Abbey Road the following day, and Carl accepted.
On June 1, 1963, Carl Perkins sat in on the Beatles' recording session. During that session, they recorded several covers of their favorite artist - three of which were subsequently released on their albums Something New and Beatles '65: "Matchbox," "Honey Don't," and "Everybody's Trying to Be My Baby." No artist has had more songs covered by the Beatles than Carl Perkins - a testament to how greatly Carl was revered by the group.
A live video of Carl and his band performing "Matchbox," the song that would be an inspiration to the young rockers:
Carl remained linked with the Beatles for the rest of his life, including acting as a contributing artist on Paul McCartney's 1982 album Tug of War. George Harrison and Ringo Starr would join Carl in his Cinemax movie A Rockabilly Session: Carl Perkins and Friends, along with Eric Clapton, Dave Edmunds, and Roseanne Cash, among others.
McCartney put it best when he said, "If there were no Carl Perkins, there would be no Beatles."
Friends in High Places
Carl held personal and professional relationships with several important figures in the music business. Carl, modest, polite, respectful and demeaning of his own work, got along excellently with almost everyone he met. One of these was not Jerry Lee Lewis. Jerry Lee's arrogance rubbed Carl the wrong way, shooting him down with a "You ain't seen nothing yet!" whenever Carl tried to compliment his piano playing. Jerry Lee easily got Carl riled during the long rides from town to town by remarking how their music was sending everybody to Hell, then getting into a heated argument with Carl over scripture quotations. Carl, a veteran fighter from his tonk days, would very nearly come to blows, but Jerry Lee always wormed his way out of a physical confrontation. He'd also throw temper tantrums backstage whenever he was slotted to open a show - he was not an opener, he was a star. Carl often tried to cool Jerry Lee's childish rage by offering to open instead, but the tour manager would hear none of it. The task often fell to Roy Orbison, who would good-humoredly go out first.
Roy retained a close personal relationship with both Carl and Cash, even after the two left Sun for Columbia. He and his first wife Claudette would spend weeks at a time living with either the Cashes or the Perkins before finally earning enough money to buy a house of their own (these lengthy visits were often taxing for Val Perkins, who disapproved of Claudette - she'd lay around and do nothing all day while Val cooked, cleaned, and cared for her children as well as Roy's). After the death of Claudette in a motorcycle accident and the loss of Roy's children to a house fire, Roy withdrew into himself and became a quiet, reclusive person - but he maintained close ties with Carl and Cash. The three reunited with Jerry Lee in Memphis in 1985 for the making of the much-acclaimed Class of '55 recording, which earned them a Grammy for spoken word. Carl and Roy were both inducted together at the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame ceremony in 1987, both relishing their accomplishment as they sat next to each other. Carl was with Roy for a few shows of his summer tour in 1988. When the two parted for what would be the last time, Roy and Carl put aside the gruff, emotionless exterior characteristic of guy friendships and expressed how much they loved each other, their families, their work, and working together. The news came that December that Roy Orbison had died.
While doing a long stretch in Las Vegas in 1962, Carl became close friends with Patsy Cline, who was working the same dates at a venue across the street. She loved Carl's songwriting, and chastised him whenever he began composing songs in public places where "someone might steal them." He was a contributing author to Patsy's song, "So Wrong," which rose to number 14 on the country charts and number 85 on the pop charts. The two parted ways at the end of their Vegas run, Cline sweetly imploring Perkins to meet up with her again down the road. On March 6, 1963, Carl was mortified to learn that Patsy's plane had crashed near Camden, Tennessee, killing all aboard. Carl visited the crash site that very day, brooding with remorse and horror over the carnage.
Carl first met Bob Dylan on the set of Johnny Cash's show and immediately struck up a friendship. Dylan, another young musician who had grown up inspired by Carl's music, was eager to share some of his work with Carl. After the show, Dylan invited Carl to his dressing room and played for him a verse of "Champaign, Illinois." Carl, taking Dylan's guitar, worked up a rhythm and improvised the verse's ending hook. He handed the guitar back, telling Dylan he had quite the song. Dylan shook his head and replied, "Your song. Take it. Finish it." They would meet again years later, when Dylan would weep for joy that Carl was alive and still staggering on after his bout with throat cancer.
In 1985, Carl met Naomi and Wynonna Judd, a mother-sister country act who were both huge Carl Perkins fans. He was immediately taken with them and encouraged them professionally. He was also personally close to the Judds, especially Naomi, whom he affectionately called 'Mama.' In 1989, Carl co-wrote "Let Me Tell You About Love" for the Judds' album River of Time, and also played lead guitar on the track. The song rose to number one on the country singles chart and was again nominated by CMA for Song of the Year.
Yet another close friend and collaborator of Carl's, Dolly Parton, came down from Nashville to work with him on a songwriting collaboration session. Carl, who'd written a new song just a few days prior to Dolly's visit, played for her his new composition, "Silver and Gold." Dolly was so enamored with the song that she took it back to Nashville and recorded it, where it became a Top 10 single for her.
On that note, Carl's friends (these and countless others not mentioned here), loved coming over the Perkins house. Carl's family were welcoming and gracious hosts, Val always remembering to cook some of the stars' favorite dishes when they'd be over to supper. Carl Perkins was not only a great man, but a very fond friend.
I'm Just Restless
Carl's career path after leaving Sun was a shiftless, wandering one. He soon realized, when going into Columbia to record for the first time, that things were going to be very, very different. Gone were the loose, clock-free sessions of his Sun days. Being limited to putting down material in such a short span of hours greatly unnerved Carl, which translated into his voice - it lacked any sort of its characteristic enjoyment, freedom or fire. The Columbia executives also did not appear much interested in recording Carl's new original songs. He no longer even played lead guitar on his own recordings, all the instrumentals being done by session musicians. This only detracted further from Carl's signature style.
Carl's own reflections on his disastrous years at Columbia: "[Producer Don Law] always had 3 or 4 [songs] he wanted me to do. And he'd play me a demo of a song and say, 'Sing it like this guy here's doing it on the demo.' That really was not Carl Perkins. For the most part, an artist shouldn't copy what the demo singer is doing; he needs to sing it like he feels it. I let myself record some things I never did like. I should have been totally sold on every song I ever sang. My career suffered because I wasn't so choosy."
In 1961, still reeling from Jay B.'s death, Carl signed to Cedarwood Publishing as a songwriter, where he really got an opportunity to hone and develop his craft.
Carl's Columbia contract then expired in 1963, and he moved labels once again over to Decca. Though he was once again allowed to play guitar on his own records, Carl proved to be even less commercially successful at Decca than at Columbia.
He resigned to Columbia in 1968, and finally produced his only notable single to ever come out of his Columbia years. "Restless," a self-penned rockabilly tune about a wandering country boy on a Greyhound bus, sounded and felt like a Carl Perkins song of old. The blistering guitar solo he laid down on the track is the most angry and emotional of any in his career - Carl's pain, sadness, and frustration emanated from the strings as his fingers sped up and down the fretboard. He himself couldn't believe what he'd just done when the song was played back. The studio had finally managed to capture a torrent of emotion.
Here is a live video of Carl performing "Restless" on the Johnny Cash Show:
In 1973, Carl moved to the Mercury label and made the closest thing that amounted to a concept album: a self-portrait in song called "My Kind of Country." Though Carl's songs were well-written and deeply personal, he was once again commercially unsuccessful, and was dropped from the label in 1975.
In 1976, he made several recordings at the Music Mill in Muscle Shoals, though it would be years before the majority of his work in these sessions was released. He'd later try his hand at his own label; that, too, would again prove unsuccessful. Carl Perkins was dead on the market.
A Troubled Soul
Carl's life and career were not without more than their share of tragedy and tribulation. The first blow came while at the height of his career on March 22, 1956. Carl and his band were en route to an appearance on The Perry Como Show in New York. Stuart Pinkham was driving the Chrysler limo near Dover, Delaware, when the car unexpectedly plowed into the back of a truck. Pinkham, W.S. Holland, and Clayton walked away from the wreck with minor cuts; Jay B., who'd been laying down in the backseat, managed to free himself from the car despite his neck being badly broken; Carl suffered a broken collarbone and severe concussion; the driver of the truck was killed.
After a lengthy convalescence in a Delaware hospital, both Jay B. and Carl were released and returned to Jackson. Carl came back to the band almost immediately, though Jay B. still needed more time. Ed Cisco filled in on the rhythm guitar for a period as a result. Jay B. eventually did return to the Perkins Brothers Band fold, albeit with his neck in a brace.
Jay B. had also suffered headaches from time to time, but had resolved this problem in the past by swallowing a handful of painkillers. After the accident, Jay B.'s headaches doubled and tripled their intensity with gaining recurrence. No amount of aspirin could kill his pain. Never one to talk, he no longer had much to smile or laugh about. He never talked about his problems, but Carl could see the sadness in his brother's eyes while they performed. In 1958, his guitar playing began to be affected. Then started a tingling sensation in his foot that refused to abate. Carl ordered his brother off the road and into a doctor's office. Jay B. was examined for potential brain problems, and a tumor was discovered. He underwent brain surgery for a portion to be removed. On examination, the growth was found to be malignant. Jay B. Perkins died on the morning of October 20, 1958, with Carl holding his beloved brother's hand.
Carl had revered and idolized Jay B. He saw his brother as a shining example of all that was good, decent and honorable in a man. He couldn't imagine his life without him. After Jay B.'s cancer was deemed terminal, Carl refused to accept that he would die. When Jay B.'s death finally did come, Carl was devastated. Nothing, not even the birth of his fourth child could console him. He began hitting the bottle heavily, all interest in his work diminished.
Carl was a mean drunk, but Clayton was even meaner. With each successive binge he grew so violent that he became dangerous. In 1962, after insulting his way into several physical confrontations with Carl, fracturing his hand by punching a wall, and attacking Red Foley, Clayton had reached Carl's breaking point. Carl bundled his younger brother, blacked out from alcohol, into the back of his car and drove straight home. Upon arriving at their parents' house, Carl roused Clayton, dumped him in the yard, and told him this was the end of the road. With that, he drove straight back to the venue he was set to play in Cincinnati. The Perkins Brothers Band was no more.
In 1963, Carl suffered yet another accident - this one far more serious and damaging in nature. After playing a show in Dyersburg, Tennessee, Carl raised his left hand to wave to the crowd. It caught in the exposed blades of an overhead rotary fan, tearing into a shredded, bloody mess. Despite the venue's protests, Carl insisted on driving back home to Jackson for treatment. By the time he arrived and was admitted, several hours had to pass before the hand could safely be operated on - Carl had lost over half of his body's blood. He escaped without losing any fingers, but several nerves had permanently lost feeling. His pinky, now useless, was permanently bent inward after its tendons were surgically severed and tied to prevent it from interfering with Carl's playing. Angry and frustrated, yet determined, Carl re-taught himself how to play his guitar with only three fingers on the frets instead of four. Though in the end he managed to overcome it, part of his hand had lost feeling forever.
In the meantime, Carl's alcoholism had continued to spin out of control. His disposition turned sour, not only toward friends and coworkers, but toward his wife and children. His weight ballooned to 240 lbs. He couldn't remember his movements for the past few days in a row. He could hardly stumble through sets only 2-3 songs in length before walking away to black out. Though sure that each drink brought him closer to certain death, Carl seemed powerless to stop himself. Finally, while touring with Johnny Cash out in California in 1968, Carl awoke on the tour bus from an exceptionally long blackout. Cash and few others from the troupe were having a picnic on the beach. Carl reached for his flask, as though to take another drink, then stopped himself; he had a feeling that the next would be his last. He did not want to die, not here, not so far away from his family, not without giving them a chance to say goodbye. Carl weakly crawled from the bus and down to the water's edge. He hurled his flask into the Pacific Ocean, swearing off of whiskey forever. Cash likewise quit his amphetamines with a promise to Carl: "You take a drink, I take a pill." In this manner, the two held each other up when one started to weaken, eventually conquering their addictions together.
On Christmas day 1973, after spending the morning with his family, Carl flew from Memphis to L.A. to shoot an episode of the television show Columbo with the Cash troupe. When he landed, Cash was on the phone with the airport, waiting for Carl to arrive. The news he had to tell shocked Carl, dissolving him into tears: he had to fly back home right away. Clayton was dead. He'd shot himself with a revolver.
Clayton had remained unemployed after being kicked out of the band, drinking hard and hanging with the bums around Jackson. His wife and three children had left him; he was living on rock bottom. He'd promised to come over to his parents' house for dinner that day. When he didn't show up, a concerned Louise phoned Val. Carl's sons Greg and Stan, sent over to investigate the matter, had discovered the body.
Clayton's suicide sent a shockwave through the Perkins clan. He'd been lately suffering from a stomach ulcer, and upon emerging from the doctor, had uttered the cryptic remark, "I will not suffer like Jay B. did." Carl, again reeling from the loss, refused to believe the .22 pistol had been fired by his brother's own hand. Investigators were brought in on the matter, but nothing came of it. Though in time he grudgingly came to accept Clayton's suicide, Carl maintained his brother's innocence - he'd never meant to kill himself. Brotherless, and with only a few years remaining before he'd lose Buck and Louise, Carl continued on, rejoining the Cash troupe on the road a few weeks later.
Where the Heart Is
The primary, and most important, love in Carl's life was not his music, but his family. In time, this would come to include not only his parents and brothers, but a clan of his own. He first met Valda Crider, a school friend of his cousin Martha's, in 1949. She was not only beautiful, but intelligent. Carl considered her out of his reach, which accounted for his surprise when he learned she was just as interested in him as he was her. After a rocky courtship, where Carl sorely tested her fidelity, they married on January 24, 1953 in Corinth, Mississippi. Their first child, Stan, was born in 1953, followed by Debbie in 1954, Steve in 1956, and finally Greg in 1959. Carl's boys Stan and Greg followed their father into the music business, backing him onstage after he left the Cash troupe in the late 70s - a sort of rebirth of the original Perkins family band.
In spite of the many setbacks and heartbreaks Carl suffered throughout his career, Val's faith in him was unwavering. She took up the fight whenever she felt Carl had been cheated or wronged, and stood steadfastly by him through everything, even when Carl was at the depths of his alcoholism. After his marriage, Carl remained forever true to his wife, who made no bones about the fact that she'd leave him the minute he proved unfaithful. Though fans would follow him to his hotel room, they would receive their autographs at the door. None ever made it into his room. After every performance, Carl would call home to talk to his wife and children, strengthening his resolve. A one-night stand wasn't worth losing what he had at home.
At the many points where Carl felt inclined to give up, Val was always the one who prodded him to keep going. He understood and appreciated how important she was, remarking that "Carl Perkins wouldn't be here without that woman." In the case of Carl and Val Perkins, the adage holds true that behind every great man, there's an even greater woman holding him up. To the end of his life, he hoped that he'd go before Val, as he couldn't possibly live his life without her. Carl received his wish.
The King of Rockabilly
The end of Carl's life was filled with many great accomplishments and achievements, the least of which certainly not being his charitable work. In 1980, Carl was moved by a story in the local paper relating that a Jackson boy, who uncannily resembled his son Stan, had died from child abuse injuries. His interest in the story led to the opening of the Carl Perkins Center for the Prevention of Child Abuse in October 1981 in Jackson, Tennessee. The Jackson center was only the fourth of its kind in the U.S., and the first to focus solely on child abuse. To the end of his life, Carl remained actively involved, hosting an annual telethon each year to raise funds for the center. After his death, his widow Val maintained the family's active interest in the center.
In 1985, as aforementioned, Carl (along with Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison, and Jerry Lee), received a Grammy for their recording Class of '55. Here's a live video below of the Class of '55 performing "This Train":
In 1986, Carl received a Career Achievement Award from the Academy of Country Music, as well as an induction into the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame (He was, ironically, inducted by Sam Phillips at the ceremony). Carl performed "Blue Suede Shoes" in the ceremony's closing jam session, joined by Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones on guitar.
In 1987, Tiptonville restored the Perkins family's original one-room shack and built around it the Carl Perkins Museum, located in Carl Perkins Square. For the first time in over twenty years, Carl returned to his childhood home to view the museum. The trip proved heartwarming and nostalgic for the Rockabilly King.
Jackson's Carl Perkins Museum counterpart, a restaurant named Suede's, is owned and maintained by Carl's daughter Debbie and her husband, Bart. The restaurant is filled and decorated with notable Carl Perkins memorabilia.
Then came the hardest blow of Carl's late life. In 1991, Carl was diagnosed with throat cancer in his left tonsil and adjoining lymph node. Because the radical surgery required would endanger the chances of Carl ever speaking, much less singing, again, he opted instead for a rigorous radiation treatment. Though he suffered from extreme fatigue, sore throat, weight loss, sore jaws, and diminished appetite, Carl continued to make public appearances and play his music throughout his treatment. His friends, fans, and family were heartened by his fortitude, and were rewarded in May 1993 when it was announced to the world that Carl Perkins was cancer-free. Against all odds, he had beaten a deadly foe.
Carl's Legacy
Since there was no better place to put this information, I thought I'd share a few tidbits about Carl's guitars here. Carl's first electric guitar was a Harmony electric before upgrading to a Gibson ES-5 Switchmaster hollow-body maple-top (with home-fashioned vibrato bar), as well as the aforementioned 1957 Les Paul. He also owned a telecaster, which makes an appearance in the "Restless" video above. There are several others, I'm sure, that I've neglected to mention here.
Carl's very unique guitar-playing style, combining single- and triple-string solos against a bluesy, rhythmic country sound, proved ground-breaking and incredibly influential to the generations of young rockers that followed him. The passage of time has distanced his recordings from the work of many artists today, but rest assured that the foundation he laid is making itself heard through many current artists' fingers. If someone today is said to be playing in a "rockabilly style," they are pickin' boppin' and rockin' in Carl Perkins' style, with Carl Perkins' flair.
Carl's own description of the rockabilly music he pioneered: "I knew it was some form of country, but not Hank Snow and not Ernest Tubb and not Roy Acuff. I heard something else in that music and worked all my life to find what it was. It's the way it's chopped that makes a difference. And the rhythm, the beat, the mixture that's in it. It's two or three kinds of music together is what rockabilly is. And there's a spirit roaming around in it that keeps it all tied together. Don't ask me what that is. But you can feel it."
And - again, to save many inane comments on the subject in this thread - yes, Carl Perkins did wear a toupe. Following the car accident in 1956, he began wearing one over his already thinning dark hair, and for the rest of his life he was rarely (if ever) seen in public without one.
Carl Perkins died in Jackson, of complications related to a series of strokes he'd previously suffered, on January 19, 1998. He was 65 years old. In the wake of his death, the important role he played in the music scene seemed to finally dawn on the general public. Mourners from seemingly every corner of the music industry paid tribute to Carl at his funeral. My favorite, and what I think are the most apt, tributes to Carl I've included below:
Bob Dylan: "He really stood for freedom. That whole sound stood for all the degrees of freedom. It would just jump right off that turntable; live, it would create such a thump in your belly, you know. Everything - the vocabulary of the lyrics and the sound of the instruments...It made us feel less like wanderers around, that there was definitely a sun out there and a moon and there were certain celestial elements to life that were being expressed in just a small group of people, like Carl...It was coming from somewhere that we wanted to go; we wanted to go where that was happening. As opposed to a record on the radio where it might sound nice, but it doesn't give you any answers or make you think that there are any really. Or any other place to go besides the place you're perfectly adapted to."
Johnny Cash: "I'm not well enough acquainted with the field to know whether music historians and rock 'n roll fans celebrate Carl the way they should today, but if a hundred years from now he's not recognized as a great master and prime mover, somebody will have messed up badly."
And so, my journey with Carl has brought me not only a greater appreciation of his music, but a reflection on how instrumental he was to developing, welding together and presenting everything that I love in my music. Rock 'n roll and country music (not the mainstream, but the more alternative, indie, outlaw, what-have-you strains of these genres) would be unrecognizable today without Carl's music. Artists whose songs we love and admire today would have never fully developed their styles, or even become musicians altogether were it not for Carl Perkins. A humble, friendly country kid from the cotton fields, Carl married the best of the black and white music from his childhood and gave it common ground. We have a lot to thank him for.
Yes, I've been privileged to have gotten to know such a great artist in Carl Perkins (I thank you, Clams, for the opportunity). His was a wonderful life. And he left us with a wonderful legacy, one we praise and enjoy often every single day - the music, his music, that his successors carry on to this day. Through their kind, Carl Perkins lives forever.
SOURCES:
"Carl Perkins: A West Tennessee Legend." The Legend Carl Perkins. Rockabilly Tennessee, 2002. Web. 7 Aug. 2012.
"Carl Perkins." Carl Perkins. History of Rock, n.d. Web. 10 Aug. 2012.
Cash, Johnny, and Patrick Carr. Cash: The Autobiography. [San Francisco, CA]: HarperSanFrancisco, 2003. Print.
Perkins, Carl, and David McGee. Go, Cat, Go!: The Life and times of Carl Perkins, the King of Rockabilly. New York: Hyperion, 1996. Print.
"Thoughts on Carl ..." RAB Hall of Fame: Carl Perkins. Rockabilly Hall of Fame, n.d. Web. 10 Aug. 2012.
Well, folks, here is now your place to find and discuss everything related to Carl Perkins. The artist, NOT the song. Please direct all comments/questions you may have about the song here instead: http://threedimesdown.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=2&t=2357
