Born in the Fifties: Front Row Seat to Rock 'n' Roll Evolution
The Best Time to Experience the Unfolding of the Magic
Thomas Edison invented the phonograph in 1877. It was another 43 years, in 1920, the first publicly available recording was available. It was another 30 or so years until the world started rocking out to the phonograph.
The consensus among rock historians is that rock and roll, as we know it today, first appeared in the mid-1950s. While the phrase ‘rock and roll’ has been around since the 1800s, when the term ‘rocking and rolling’ was an apt description of the movement of a ship on the ocean, in the early 20th century, the term ‘rock and roll’ was used as a term to describe the spiritual fervor of black church rituals and as a sexual analogy.
From Wikipedia:
Blues singer Trixie Smith recorded "My [Man] Rocks Me with One Steady Roll" in 1922. In 1934, the song "Rock and Roll" by the Boswell Sisters appeared in the film Transatlantic Merry-Go-Round. In 1942, before the concept of rock and roll had been defined, Billboard magazine columnist Maurie Orodenker started to use the term to describe upbeat recordings such as "Rock Me" by Sister Rosetta Tharpe; her style on that recording was described as "rock-and-roll spiritual singing". By 1943, the "Rock and Roll Inn" in South Merchantville, New Jersey, was established as a music venue. In 1951, Cleveland, Ohio, disc jockey Alan Freed began playing this music style, and referring to it as "rock and roll" on his mainstream radio program, which popularized the phrase.
While it appeared in some fashion in the late 40s and early 50s, the full force of the genre kicked in with Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Elvis Presley, Fats Domino, and others. As a cultural force, rock and roll (or ‘rock ‘n’ roll,’ dropping the ‘a’ and the ‘d’ from the connecting word) came into the country’s living rooms in the mid to late 50s with the advent of the electric guitar, and Elvis shaking his hips, even though TV would only show him from the waist up, at least a few times.
I was born in the middle of the '50s – June of 1955 – and while it took me decades to arrive at this conclusion, I now maintain that it was the perfect time to be born to get the whole experience of how the culture of rock music grew and evolved through the '60s, ‘80s, and beyond.
When the Beatles broke through to the world consciousness in 1964, they’d already been massive stars in their native England. I won’t rehash how the group broke through, as that’s been told a million times. Still, I will mention that being at the tender young age of eight years old when the Beatles hit the airwaves, it blasted a hole in my consciousness and awareness that impacted my life in ways that I’m still wrestling with and amused by. The first single I purchased was The Beatles 45: Slow Down b/w Matchbox, a powerhouse combination of energy and zest that still shakes me. Slow Down was written by Larry Williams. Matchbox was a Carl Perkins tune, but I had no idea who they were, nor did I care. When I put the records on the turntable, the sound that came out of the tinny speakers moved me in ways that I could not put into words.
It wasn’t long after that I found myself the owner of the Beatles LP “A Hard Day’s Night,” the soundtrack to the movie. It was the American version that contained a handful of songs from the movie, as well as instrumental versions of some of the songs (at the time, I had no idea that there were separate and different British and US versions).
Over the next few years, while I listened to local radio stations for any song that might have the power and energy of those first few Beatles singles, I discovered a handful of bands. I started collecting the music of Paul Revere and the Raiders, the Rolling Stones, the Yardbirds, Dave Clark Five, the Troggs, the Zombies, and others.
There’s no way to prove it, but I think if I had been born only five years earlier, or five years later, my views on the evolution of rock and roll wouldn’t be the same. I saw in real-time the way the Beatles moved from a pop-rock group that dominated the airwaves with upbeat, snappy rock tunes, to writing and recording Dylanesque songs such as Norwegian Wood, Think for Yourself, Michelle, and others from Rubber Soul, to the psychedelic sounds of Revolver and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, to the stripped-down intimate and personal songs of The White Album, and finally the sweeping medleys and straight-ahead rock of Abbey Road.
But of course, there was more than the Beatles in the '60s. I turned 15 in the middle of 1970, and the world was changing. My most vivid memories of the early '70s are of discovery of the new music that kept coming down the pike faster and faster. I was playing drums in school bands and on occasion, jamming with friends in high school, and when you spend all of your spare time hanging out in the music department, what do you talk about? Music, of course. So we talked, shared, listened, and learned, and were amazed. Steely Dan, CSNY, Ten Years After, Led Zeppelin, Queen, Deep Purple, Jethro Tull, Santana, Janis Joplin, Elton John, Electric Light Orchestra, Doobie Brothers, Neil Young, Yes, Guess Who, David Bowie, Derek and the Dominoes, The Doors, and so many more.
A lot of those bands’ first releases were in the ‘60s, but they came of age and into the audience’s consciousness in the 70s when music fractured and split into subgenres such as folk rock, country rock, punk rock, glam rock, hard rock, heavy metal, garage rock, Latin rock. Those various subgenres were barely recognized in the 60s, but in the 70s, everything exploded. As I got into radio and became a small station Music Director in 1975 as a teenager, I had a front-row seat to the changes, which seemed to come faster and faster every year.
The late '70s saw The Police, Elvis Costello, Blondie, Talking Heads, the Velvet Underground, Iggy Pop, David Bowie, and more. And of course, DISCO, which, as a big rock fan, I always loudly and humorously derided, while inside, I really loved a lot of it. The Bee Gees were the main protagonists, leading the genre on the radio, breaking sales records, and putting songs at the top of the charts. There were dozens of cool bands that I frankly loved playing on the radio, such as Kool and the Gang, the Gap Band, ABBA, Donna Summer, Gloria Gaynor, Giorgio Moroder, Barry White, KC and the Sunshine Band, the Village People, Boney M, Earth Wind and Fire, Thelma Houston, and others. In one sense, I resented the disco movement for pushing rock and roll off the radio (not wholly, but still, it had an outsized impact). However, there was a lot of good stuff and talented artists in the mix. Disco music also carried a subtle but powerful positive message, even though much of the '70s music, especially if you were to focus on Studio 54 and the related party atmosphere, revolved around cocaine, quaaludes, and party favors. The genre was bright and groovy sounding, yet it was also a social, political, and cultural movement that helped open doors and unite communities that were too often not allowed much mainstream music expression.
Saturday Night Fever, released in 1977, blew the doors off the music industry, and every record executive wanted to find the next band to sell in the disco craze. It didn’t last, but it did evolve into electronic music, hip-hop, rap, drum machines and more. And radio in the 70s, it should be mentioned, also made way for a ton of rhythm and blues and soul, much of which dominated the airwaves for years: The Hues Corporation, Tavares, LaBelle, George McCrea, the Weather Girls, Sister Sledge, Chic, Harold Melvin the Blue Notes, Teddy Pendergrass, Barry White, The Jacksons, The O’Jays, Chaka Khan, and don’t forget the dance tunes that revived, at least temporarily, the career of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons with “December ’63 (Oh What a Night)” and “Who Loves You.”
It was a time to be alive and young, and as a radio and music guy, I loved every minute of it.
When the '80s rolled around, I turned 25. At the age of 28, I was released from the radio station where I was working in Salem and ended up moving to Portland for eleven years. During my time there, I managed to find gainful employment in radio. However, it was also fraught with the challenge of surviving on part-time jobs while seeking a good full-time position. This was compounded by radio stations being bought and sold, format changes, and intense competition from many talented individuals all vying for better jobs. I transitioned from being a music director and began paying less attention to the new music trends emerging. This meant that the influence of many prominent '80s artists waned for me. Artists like Madonna, Culture Club, Rick Astley, The Police, INXS, Billy Ocean, Van Halen, Heart, Bruce Hornsby and the Range, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, George Michael, Whitesnake, Rod Stewart, and others come to mind. Numerous artists had their origins in the '70s (such as Heart and Van Halen) or even the '60s (like Rod Stewart and the enduring Rolling Stones, who maintained relevance in the '80s). Despite this, I made a conscious effort to stay informed.
It was all good; it was great fun even though I was no longer intimately involved in the industry as a Music Director.
All to say that as Rock and Roll music split, fractured, evolved, changed, and became so many different things, having a front-row seat was an incredible experience.
Conclusion: As I look back over the decades, rock and roll has not just been a backdrop but a dynamic soundtrack to my life. It's remarkable how this genre, born from a mixture of cultural currents, has morphed and expanded into a rich tapestry of sounds that continue to resonate across generations. Whether it was the rebellious energy of the '60s, the disco vibrance of the '70s, or the eclectic innovations of the '80s and beyond, each era of music has left its imprint on me, both as a fan and as a professional in the industry. This journey through the ages of rock and roll mirrors my own—constantly changing, evolving, and embracing the new while remembering the roots that defined it and my beginnings. Rock and roll was, and always will be, more than just music; it's a reflection of the times, a movement of spirits, and above all, a personal narrative that continues to play out, note by note, in the hearts of those who listen.