Since my last post on the insanely great Sister Rosetta Tharpe, I’ve come to learn a great deal about her thanks to a wonderful hour long documentary on her produced by the BBC. The documentary tracks her sensational life and career in complete loving detail. The main thing you take away from the film is that Rosetta was light years ahead of her time. Not only was she a ferocious electric blues guitar player, an anomaly if there ever was one for a female black singer, she was a lesbian in a time and place where such a reality was of the utmost secrecy. Like many women of her time, she had several marriages to men, most notably holding one in a huge ceremony held in a raucous Washington DC baseball stadium. These were basically sham marriages though, with her various male partners abusing or controlling her in some way, either out of cruelty, or robbing her money. Her real heart belonged to other women, and if her secret got out, it would have spelled doom for her career as a gospel singer. The documentary, which I’m presenting below, does a fantastic job of going into the details of Rosetta’s incredible life and her incredible music. I’ve also included one last full clip of Rosetta shredding guitar for the gospel stomper, “Up Above My Head.” All great stuff, all well worth your time.

For those who have never heard of, or seen Sister Rosetta Tharpe, welcome to your baptism by fire. Sister Rosetta Tharpe is the first superstar of gospel, known as “the original soul sister,” and ever since her life was tragically cut short at the too young age of 58, her feats and persona have never been topped, let alone repeated. Rosetta was a landmark figure in the history of gospel, blues, and popular music, as she was the first person to dare and combine secular music styles of rhythm and blues with gospel music and lyrics. She was a mean guitar player too, one of the most overlooked pioneers of rock guitar, peeling off dozens of incredible Chuck Berry like licks before there was a Chuck Berry. Her influence was powerful, extending to legends like Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Little Richard. For Little Richard, who is often referred to as the Father of Rock and Roll, Sister Rosetta was a childhood favorite. He saw her perform at the Macon City Auditorium in 1945, and the 15 year old Little Richard was lucky enough to be invited on stage to sing with her. According to legend, she paid him after the show. Johnny Cash also identified Rosetta as his favorite singer, and made a point of mentioning her as a childhood favorite in his Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Induction speech. For all her acclaim an notoriety, she died in obscurity, and was buried in an unmarked grave in Northwood Cemetery in Philadelphia. Her lost reputation was later rectified by people who never forgot her thunderous ability and unforgettable stage presence. Below I have a video of Rosetta performing “Didn’t it Rain,” and “Joshua.” I first heard “Didn’t it Rain” off the Bob Dylan radio show. The recorded version is a spectacular thing featuring dueling Rosetta vocal takes harmonizing and flying all over the place and just incredible guitar overdubs. The live version is understandably more raw, but just as good. I’ll let you judge for yourself.

The year was 1966.  Bobby Fuller was a 23-year-old Texas rocker, riding high off the chart topping success of “I Fought the Law.”  He had moved out to California, been experimenting with LSD like the rest of his generation, and then suddenly, he died.  How?  Why?  Nobody is really certain to this day.  He was found dead in Hollywood, in his car.  Authorities found his body covered in petechial hemorrahages, unsightly red and purple marks caused  by exposure to gasoline vapors.  Some figured he must have guzzled gasoline, and the cops ruled his death a suicide.  Others say it was murder, with speculation ranging from Charles Manson to a nefarious LAPD coverup due to Fuller’s involvement with mafia women.  Whatever happened, his tragic death ended an incredibly promising career.  Fuller was a remarkable beautiful singer and songwriter with a bright and driving sound of joy.  In many ways he seemed like the heir to Buddy Holly’s legacy.  Like Buddy, Bobby was also a brash rockabilly Texan.   Bobby even got famous off a song Sonny Curtis wrote, the guitar player in the Crickets, Buddy Holly’s band.  “I Fought the Law” is just a fantastic piece of pure rock and roll.  As catchy and addictive as rock and roll gets, the song has mutated through different rock genres over the years, most famously by the Clash’s punk rock take on it.  I like the Bobby Fuller version the best, and the video below is a monument Bobby’s brilliance and talent.

Anyone lucky enough to see Wes Anderson’s “Fantastic Mr. Fox” has heard Bobby Fuller’s incredible rock and roll classic, “Let Her Dance.”  The song is just full of joy.  The ultra catchy background vocals bleat incessantly, Bobby Fuller’s lead vocal is drenched in the kind of echo you get from singing at a drive in movie theater, and the guitars just fill up your ears with the sweetest combination of nostalgia and fun.  The video below, introduced by Gene Weed, (who I like to think of as the original Gene Ween) captures Bobby and his boys rocking their hit song in the middle of a mob of teenagers and go go dancers.  Its the true highlight of the video, because you also get to here a take of “Another Sad and Lonely Night.”  That song is standard 60s pop fair, and no where close to the majesty of “Let Her Dance.”  Tomorrow, I’ll have one more Bobby Fuller classic, and detail the rockers tragic and mysterious death at the height of his powers.  For now, I personally cannot stop repeating “Let Her Dance.”