Little Richard
Paramount Theatre, Jan. 24After Mingo Fishtrap’s locally brewed opening set of funkiness, Little Richard, the self-styled king (some say queen) of rock & roll shuffled onstage on crutches and seated himself at the grand piano. Dressed in what looked like rhinestone-studded buckskin and wearing the modified mullet he traded his pompadour for years ago, he issued a million-watt smile. “Are you having a good time?” The audience in the section of orchestra seats below him hooted and clapped in reply. “Shut up,” he responded with his trademark retort. The crowd cheered wildly. Yet, if those who paid the $100-plus ticket price and expected Little Richard to bang the 88s nonstop were disappointed, those who paid it and expected to be entertained were not. The Macon, Ga., native and his ninepiece band performed truncated versions of “Slippin’ & Slidin’,” “The Girl Can’t Help It,” “Tutti Frutti,” and “Jenny Take a Ride” but not “Good Golly Miss Molly.” His voice wasn’t strong, due in part to poor microphone mechanics, but the spirit was willing, and he even worked in a brief sermon. At 75, Little Richard has more than six decades of writing and performing amped-up gospel and fuel-injected blues that didn’t just define rock & roll; it laid out the blueprint. “I’m the architect of rock & roll,” he announced several times, in case there was any doubt. There wasn’t. As his generation of players winds to a close, Little Richard remains unparalleled for sheer pageantry, guts, and talent. Does anyone think they got shortchanged? Shut up.
This article appears in February 1 • 2008.