Dick Clark remembers in his autobiography (
Clark/Robinson - Rock, Roll & Remember, Popular Library, 1978, p. 103):
Phil and Leonard Chess sent Chuck Berry to Philadelphia to do the show. Chuck was a giant star, and he'd even written Philadelphia and Bandstand into the lyrics of a song, "Sweet Little Sixteen." Chuck, a very mercurial performer, got to the studio about 20 minutes before he went on the air. We exchanged pleasantries, then he said, "Ain't going do any dancing."
I didn't know what he meant. I thought he wasn't going to dance with the studio audience. "You don't have to dance, just do your record," I told him.
"No dancing," he said.
I told him to stay right there. I went across the hall to the control room and got Tony [Mammarella]. "Go talk with him, will you. I don't know what the hell he's mumbling about."
Tony went over, talked to him, and came back with the news that Chuck wasn't going to lip-sync the song and he wasn't going to do his little duck-walk steps for the camera.
I stormed out of the control room and back into the office. Chuck sat in a chair, relaxed and nonchalant.
"Chuck, I don't know what to say to you, man. We've talked about it, we've announced it, and you're here."
"No," he said, looking past me. "I'm just not going to do that."
I started to fume. I went into my office, grabbed the phone, and told Marlene [Teti] to get me Leonard Chess in Chicago. When Leonard came on the line I said, "Hold on a minute, Chuck wants to talk to you." I went into the other office, telling Chuck Leonard Chess was on the phone.
I heard none of the other side of the conversation, but I can imagine what they must have said to him, "Get your ass out there an do that thing, motherfucker."
Chuck did the show. He's done it a thousand times since. He's never gotten any easier to get along with; he's still an ornery son of a bitch, but I love him dearly. He is indeed one of the great fathers of rock 'n' roll.
Chuck Berry describes the same incident a little bit differently: (
Berry - The Autobiography, Harmony Books, 1987, p. 185)
At my first "American Bandstand" appearance, I ran into trouble because I thought it was ridiculous to lip sync the words to "Sweet Little Sixteen." The song was written in honor of first, the teenage girl, and second, the "American Bandstand" show that Dick Clark hosted. I was being stubborn in ignorance of the cost of live singing over lip syncing. Rock 'n' roll on television was in its early days with budgets low, and lip syncing rather than live vocalizing helped cut expenses. In Dick Clark's book Rock, Roll and Remember, he quotes me as saying on this occasion "Ain't going do any dancing." It's hardly likely anyone whose mother taught school would be trained to speak in such fashion. Another point in the same section contains a description of Leonard Chess using profanity and lewd terms while speaking with me long distance, after Dick called him asking him to persuade me to lip sync. Leonard explained the reasons for lip syncing, but he never used profanity while doing business with me at any time in our affiliation.
In Dick's book the confusion that arose about lip syncing my performance is described as if I was not only unaware of sync, but incapable of even trying it. I was being asked to try something for the first time in front of a nationwide television audience! The point is: the writer dramatized his assumption instead of stating a fact. To me, regardless of boredom or stimulation, the truth should always perform. (I'm truly writing this book, I hope you're enjoying it.)
When Clark came back to me from his office, after being the last to speak with Leonard, he was very businesslike and said firmly, "Thank you, and good day," and spun into the studio. The negroid dialect and profanity in his book never transpired. As a matter of fact I'll yet have my first time to hear Dick Clark use such language as was written of his opinion of me. I doubt that he loves me, but I'm certain he does not hate me.
It's nice from Chuck to defend Leonard from using profanity, but this fact has been widely reported. Whether or not Chuck used the "Ain't going do any dancing" quote and maybe why, will remain unconfirmed. One thing Berry is probably incorrect in saying is that he was supposed to sing "Sweet Little Sixteen". According to Morten's books and according to
The Pop History Dig, Berry's first appearance on "Bandstand" was on 8 November 1957. Maybe the song was already written by then, but it was recorded at the end of
December 1957 and released in January 1958. It's more likely that Berry did an earlier song and that he wrote "Sweet Little Sixteen" after he was on "Bandstand".
In the end Berry went dancing/lip-sync'ing his hits on American Bandstand. Same in the Alan Freed movies.
What Berry never did, though, was make a music video. In the 1950's there weren't any. And when videos became a reasonable way to do advertising for a record, there weren't any Chuck Berry records worth creating one.
The old story came back into my mind when I saw the music video created to promote Big Boys. "Ain't going do any dancing." And any playing either.
Matt Bizer and Curtis Wayne Millard created a video which shows ... people dancing and lip-sync'ing to the music. According to
NPR, the video was filmed in Jasper, Georgia, using dancers from Atlanta's Dance 411 studio supervised by choreographer Jeremy Green.
The result is a bit American Bandstand-like, though in color. Helpful to promote the song? Judge for yourself:
https://youtu.be/WQzapVH94Lo
In my opinion, THIS video is a much better promotion for the song. It was filmed during Jimmy Fallon's Tonight Show:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3lDjjX-M0O0
Here the song is performed live. No dancing, no lip-sync'ing. Of course it's not Chuck Berry playing, but three guys who helped making the original recording: Nathaniel Rateliff, Charles Berry Jr., and Charles Berry III. One of the first covers of this new Chuck Berry song. And a good one!
Late addition: There's a second official music video for the CHUCK album:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j05AQJQRuIw. Here you hear Chuck and Ingrid singing "Darlin'." And while listening, you see photos and video snippets of Ingrid with her dad, obviously taken from her private collection. Plus we see a few film segments of Chuck performing, some known, some not, which have been slowed down to fit to the song's feeling. For some reason they added live audience applause to the end of the song.