Rockin’ Bones: 1950s Punk and Rockabilly
Label: Rhino
Length: LP
Media: CD
Format: Album
WorkNameSort: Rockin’ Bones: 1950s Punk and Rockabilly

You can’t fault Rhino’s marketing department for selling this collection of 101 rockabilly tunes mostly recorded between 1954 and 1959 (a dozen between 1960 and 1964) as a ‘punkâ?� collection. In spirit and in sound it has more in common with what would later be labeled ‘punkâ?� than just about anything parading out there now with the Hot Topic tag on it. If the hairs on the back of your neck don’t stand up for at least a handful of these tracks, you may want to visit your physician to ascertain that you haven’t died somewhere along the way. Or you’re bald, in which case you are excused.

Like most Rhino collections, this one tackles the obvious (Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, Gene Vincent), the obscure (Joyce Green, The Rockin’ R’s, Benny Joy) and the essential (Johnny Burnette, Eddie Cochran, Wanda Jackson), juxtaposing tracks with an ear for the segue, treating the music with both respect and a sense of whimsy. Thirty-five tracks are said to be making their U.S. debut on CD. The collection’s notes, penned by the esteemed Colin Escott, Deke Dickerson and James Austin, avoid the dry academic tone preferred by most music scholars and keep the focus on the basics. Enough names are dropped and connections made between conspirators to entice anyone with further interest to hit record stores and the Internet armed with points of departure. Besides, only a fool would try and intellectualize a slew of tracks titled ‘Rock Boppin’ Baby,â?� ‘Rockin’ Daddy,â?� ‘Rock It,â?� ‘Shake Um Up Rock,â?� ‘Chicken Rock,â?� ‘Daddy-O-Rock,â?� et cetera.

Yes, there was an obvious formula. Like any good (or bad) bandwagon, what worked once was put to the test to see if it would work again, and these noble foot soldiers in the quest for the perfect synergy between R&B, skiffle, blues, folk, country, electric guitars and slapback echo never exhausted the different ways of expressing their raging teenage hormones within the limited format. Plenty of tunes here were later covered by their early admirers, from Vince Taylor’s ‘Brand New Cadillacâ?� (the Clash) to Johnny Kidd’s ‘Shakin’ All Overâ?� (the Who) to Cochran’s ‘Summertime Bluesâ?� (the Who, Blue Cheer). Yet no one surpassed the originals. This wasn’t music that needed updating or improving.

The CD age, however, brings with it a sonic ‘cleannessâ?� that betrays the noise of the vinyl era. This is no small concession, as rockabilly’s gravitas is dependent on its time and place. Any psycho fan would want to touch and smell the original records as they were thrown on the turntable, but like those irretrievable teenage pimples, now replaced by the even more horrifying effects of middle age, we must accept our limitations. The guitars still shine brightly, the drums still roll without the ‘benefitâ?� of a click track and the singers are on their own without auto-tune, even if they must do it on these shiny, soulless, jam-packed compact discs. Like rockabilly itself, it ain’t perfect, but it’ll do.

This article appears in Jun 21-27, 2006.