Chuck Berry Lyrics

Chuck Berry once said ‘Poetry is my lifeblood.’ Never a truer statement has been made. He has been variously described as the 'Poet Laureate of Rock' and the 'Shakespeare of Roll'. A master wordsmith, his best compositions are poems set to music, not lyrics to fit the beat. Where a word he needs doesn’t exist, he invents one. Thus in his very first recording ‘Maybellene’ we find ‘motorvating’, a word created to perfectly evoke the speeding cars of the song’s story. In his autobiography he explained,

“I tried to use (or make up) words that wouldn’t be hard to decipher by anyone from the fifth grade on. I hadn’t received any kickback about using ‘motorvating’ in ‘Maybellene,’ so why not compete with Noah Webster (of dictionary fame) again?”

Troubles became botherations in another early classic ‘Too Much Monkey Business’. In ‘You Can’t Catch Me’ he invents an air-mobile he dubbed a ‘Flight DeVille’, mimicking the famous Caddy, later to become his favourite wheels. Chuck always carefully selected his words, why use refrigerator when coolerator was – well much cooler? (incidentally coolerator isn’t a Berryism – it was the trade name for a fridge made from 1948 by the Gibson Refrigerator Company.)
As a child, Chuck's father Henry would recite poetry to him, while his mother Martha’s singing of Baptist hymns also helped instilled a love of words, rhyme and metre in the boy.
Poetry was commonplace, the works of Edgar Allan Poe, Paul Laurence Dunbar and Theodore Tilton were lingua franca in the Berry household. As a child, he memorised and would recite verbatim long, multi-versed epics such as Theodore Tilton’s ‘The King’s Ring’ (also known as ‘Even This Shall Pass Away’). Tilton, newspaper editor, poet, and abolitionist, wrote the poem in 1867 and a century or so later Chuck recorded it as 'Pass Away', the last track on his 1979 Atco 'Rockit' album. In 2006 the box-set DVD of the movie ‘Hail Hail Rock And Roll’ was issued. The final part of Disc 3 is ‘Chuckisms’ focusing on Berry’s vocabulary and poetry which includes a lengthy, word perfect recital of the poem accompanied by Robbie Robertson on acoustic guitar. (The Led Zeppelin fan reading this may also be interested to know Robert Plant recorded ‘Even This Shall Pass Away’ in 2010 set to a funky beat!). In a 2016 interview with Peter Guralnick published in Rolling Stone magazine, Chuck discussed poetry and ‘Even This Shall Pass Away’ in particular. Asked about the poem Berry said he first heard it recited by his dad around the age of six or seven. Peter continues:

With very little prompting, Chuck recited the poem, and as he did, he got more and more choked up. "My dad," he said, "was the cause of me being in show business. He was not only in poetry but in acting a bit. He was Mordecai in the play A Dream of Queen Esther. He was very low in speech and music, and he came out onstage, he came out to tell the king, 'Sire, sire, someone is approaching our castle.' And I knew his voice. I'm five years old right now. I knew his voice and I hollered out in the theater, 'Daddy!' I don't remember it, but they tell me I did. His position in the choir was bass. Mother's was soprano and lead. That's all there was in our house, poetry and choir rehearsal and duets and so forth; I listened to Dad and Mother discuss things about poetry and delivery and voice and diction – I don't think anyone could know how much it really means." Who were some of his favorite poets as a kid? I ask. Edgar Allen Poe, he said after some consideration "I can't think of them [all], my memory's really bad", and Paul Laurence Dunbar was his mother's. On second thought, he offered, Dunbar was his favorite, too.

In an earlier 1969 Rolling Stone interview Chuck talked of a 45-minute poem he had composed called ‘Vagabond's Horse’. This is a miss-transcription and what he said was ‘Vagabond’s House’ which in fact, wasn’t his composition but a 1928 poem by Donald Benson Blanding (dubbed the poet laureate of Hawaii) about an idealised, yet to be built, dream house. Chuck clearly found resonance in the poem due to his building skills and knowledge developed from working pre-fame with his carpenter dad. He wrote his own version of the poem called ‘My Dream’.

‘The roof of it will have peak lines / And contours that dip / And form shadowy eaves / Where the little raindrops can drip’

might be called doggerel by some but the sincerity of delivery cannot be denied. ‘My Dream’ featured on Berry’s 1971 San Francisco Dues album as a six-minute tone poem recited over a background of bass, guitar and drums well down in the mix, overlaid with Chuck's own free-form piano playing. Chuck had cut an alternative version with completely new words titled ‘My Pad’ in 1970 which remained unheard until issued on ‘Have Mercy: His Complete Chess Recordings 1969 To 1974’ the third Hip-O Select box-set in 2010. This was slightly longer than ‘My Dream’ and had no instrumentation whatsoever, just Chuck’s dulcet voice reciting words that clearly meant so much to him.
One of the most idiosyncratic songs of his whole recorded works was Chuck’s 1955 ‘Down Bound Train’. Chuck claimed to have written the song and no doubt the musical accompaniment, with its racing rhythm and jagged guitar, is all his but the weird and wonderful lyrics have had a much longer life. ‘Downbound Train’ started life as the poem ‘Tom Gray's Dream’, by Retta M. Brown (born September 18, 1893). This came about due to her uncle Tom Gray’s experience, who in a drunken stupor had a nightmare dream that caused him to quit the demon drink. The theme was embraced by alcohol abstentionists (Chuck’s lay preaching dad maybe?) under various titles, ‘Drunkard’s Dream’, ‘Stranger’s Dream’ and ‘Texas Cowboy’s Dream’ amongst others, and perpetuated by oral transmission. In his book 'Long Steel Rail', Norm Cohen describes an old cowboy song titled 'Hell Bound Train' collected by John A Lomax and included in his book 'Cowboy Songs' (1910). It is said to be written by J W Pruitte (or Pruitt), the 'Cowboy Preacher' in 1909, but I think it is from the turn of the century, developed from earlier versions, as a poem titled 'A Drunkard's Dream' by John Andrew Howell, a blind poet of Scottish extraction from Webster County, West Virginia. One thing's for sure, some of the verses are virtually identical to those in Chuck's ‘Downbound Train’, even to the brimstone lamp and the boiler filled with lager beer. Perhaps, quite sensibly, Chuck did however amend the couplet ‘The passengers made a motley crew / church member, atheist, gentile and Jew’ to the more banal ‘The passengers were most a motley crew / Some were foreigners and others he knew’. The song / poem has been recorded many times in various styles. As ‘Hell Bound Train’ Berry acolyte, George Thorogood waxed it as ‘Downbound Train’ as did slide guitarist Steve James, both rocking versions. The Cuck-A-Lucks, a pretty dire white vocal trio, cut it as ‘The Devil’s Train’. Don Edwards’ version was pure country, as was working cowboy Glenn Ohrlin’s. In 1945 gospel group Sunset Jubilee Singers recorded it in sacred style. On a 1970’s Memphis based Marble Hill 45, Marie Robertson recites the composition, containing additional verses excluded from other versions, over a chunky country rhythm and in addition to Chuck, claims composer credit.
Following the release of his ‘Rockit’ album, Chuck more or less gave up recording and jumped aboard the rock and roll oldies touring treadmill. The money was good and money counted highly in Berry’s life but his active mind must have felt stupefied singing his oldies but goodies. To relieve this somewhat he would sometimes add new lyrics to his compositions and at the opening concert of the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame Museum in Cleveland in September 1995 (bootlegged) he introduces some new lyrics reflecting on a life well spent in ‘Rock And Roll Music’. ‘Sometimes it's loud and gets out of control / Can't even understand the story told / But if you love it, you ain't never too old / To cut the mustard with rock and roll!’ and again later on, ‘Some people say rock and roll is dead / It's forty years since that remark was made / I'm here to show it's live and well / And all‑American like ringing a bell.’ (incidentally this recording is dire!)
Chuck Berry’s idiosyncratic musings can be heard in many recordings

(vis. Milo Venus was a beautiful lass, she had the world in the palm of her hand / But she lost both her arms in a wrestling match to win a brown eyed handsome man)

and also in his prose as can be read in his autobiography containing many quirky expressions including the introductory poem

‘To the many who never knew / And to any who’ve wanted to / Know what is true praised or taboo / here are a few things that I do exposed to you for your review’ .

This trait continued all his life and his last, posthumously released, album simple titled ‘Chuck’ contains two such delights for your attention.
In 'Eyes Of Man', he gets all metaphysical; it’s a philosophical manifesto to the innate power of woman which he declares 'is seldom seen in the eyes of man'. A text in praise of womanhood which transcends that of man. Chuck cites lines from an ancient Persian proverb collected by Sir Richard Burton (he of the Kama Sutra, The Perfumed Garden and other saucy works and not Liz Taylor’s other half) published by his wife Isabel in 1893 in 'The Life Of Captain Sir Richd. F Burton'. Chuck freely adapts the Persian lines to suit his style but the meaning of the original assertions are maintained.

Persian :- He who knows not, and knows not that he knows not, is a fool; shun him.
Chuck :- Those who do not know, and do not know that they do not know. Are fools. Avoid them.
Persian :- He who knows not, and knows they do not knows not, is a student; Teach him.
Chuck :- Those who do not know, and know that they do not know. Are children. Adopt them.
Persian :- He who knows, and knows not that he knows, is asleep; Wake him.
Chuck :- Those who know and do not know that they know. They are asleep. Awake them.
Persian :- He who knows, and knows that he knows, is Wise; Follow him.”
Chuck :- Oh those who know and know that they know, are wisdom. Acclaim them.

In counterpoint to all this esoteric pontification the half sung, half spoken words are supported by an easy loping bluesy melody containing some fine Berry guitarisation.
'Dutchman' is cut from coarser cloth, a cautionary tale recited by Chuck. The scene is a bar-room full of drinkers including the enigmatic Dutchman who are interrupted by a tall dark dude who the patrons initially wish to see off, siccing a Great Dane on the guy. However, for the price of drink offered by the Dutchman the stranger imparts his story of fame and fortune now lost all because of his unrequited love for a femme fatale, a Cleopatra with luxurious hair who, when she allowed him to kiss her, near petrified his heart. The tension of the tale is intensified by the sparse grungy blues rhythm, just guitar, bass and drums, that accompanies Chuck's perfectly enunciated narration. A great vignette beautifully told.
Later in life the tributes and awards to Chuck came thick and fast including the American Music Award of Merit in 1981, his induction into the Nashville Songwriters Association International Hall of Fame in 1982, a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 1985 (accepted on Chuck’s behalf by Berry acolyte Dave Edmunds) and his induction into the inaugural Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 1985 plus the later American Music Masters Award from the same organisation in 2012. In 2002 he got an ICON award from the BMI performing rights organization. His star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame appeared in 1987 and a similar star rose on Delmar Boulevard in his home-town St. Louis in 1989, not to forget the unprepossessing statue opposite Blueberry Hill restaurant / bar where Chuck performed 207 times. He was honoured at the Kennedy Center Honors for performing arts 2000. More relevant to Chuck’s poetic prowess was the PEN Literary Award he received at John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum in 2012 and the Polar Music Prize 2014, the so called ‘Nobel Prize for Music’ with the added $100,000 bounty that must have undoubtable pleased Chuck.
In addition to the institutional awards, literary luminaries also praised Chuck’s way with words. Paul Simon, who presented Chuck with his PEN medal, said how much Chuck’s songwriting had influenced him and read the lyrics of ‘Maybellene’, ‘Too Much Monkey Business’ and ‘Johnny B Goode’ as though they were poems. Simon was no mean poet himself, forget ‘Hello darkness my old friend’ but dig

‘Just slip out the back, Jack / Make a new plan, Stan / You don't need to be coy, Roy / You just listen to me / Hop on the bus, Gus / You don't need to discuss much / Just drop off the quay, Lee / And get yourself free’

– worthy of Chuck don’t you think?
Bob Dylan messaged to the proceedings:

‘To Chuck, the Shakespeare of rock and roll, congratulation on the Penn award – that’s what ‘To Much Monkey Business’ gets you. You’ve written the book with a capital B’.

Poet and wordsmith Leonard Cohen, who was the joint recipient of the PENN award, also voiced his appreciation:

‘If Beethoven hadn’t rolled over, there wouldn’t have been room for any of us.’

Cohen’s award was presented by renowned novelist Salman Rushdie, who said,

‘I’ve wanted for a long time PENN to understand that literature moves with the times, literature doesn’t remain poets, essayists and novelists, new forms grow, new art is made in new ways, and some of the greatest art, certainly in my lifetime, has been made in the form of the song lyric. It’s way, way overdue that we recognise this is a contribution to literature at least as important as that of poets, playwrights and novelists and two of the great exponents of that are honorees today.’

We all know the famous John Lennon quote on the Mike Douglas TV Show in 1972:

‘If you tried to give rock and roll another name, you might call it Chuck Berry.’

but he also said in relation to Chuck’s lyrics:

‘He's the greatest rock'n'roll poet. When I hear rock, good rock of the calibre of Chuck Berry, I just fall apart and have no other interest in life.’

Lennon’s partner in rhyme, Paul McCartney added

‘Chuck Berry is one of the greatest poets America has produced. His songs hit us like a bolt of lightning.’

In a 2016 Rolling Stone article ‘Why Chuck Berry Is Even Greater Than You Think’ Peter Guralnick recalled a conversation with Allen Toussaint:

‘Perhaps the most persuasive tribute I ever encountered was delivered by the highly cerebral New Orleans singer, songwriter, arranger and pianist extraordinaire, Allen Toussaint. I was trying to get at some of the reasons for the dramatic expansion of his own songwriting aspirations (musically, poetically, politically) in the seventies, when he graduated from brilliant pop cameos like ‘Ride Your Pony’ and ‘Mother in Law’ to more ambitious, post-Beatles, post-Miles, post-Civil Rights Era work. Was it the influence of Bob Dylan, say, that allowed him to contemplate a wider range of subjects, a greater length of songs? Oh, not at all, Allen replied in his cool, elegant manner; he wished he could agree with me, but his single greatest influence in terms of lyrics and storytelling from first to last was Chuck Berry. And with that he started quoting Chuck Berry lyrics, just as you or I might, just as Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, and Jerry Lee Lewis do on the fabled “Million Dollar Quartet” session. “What a wonderful little story that is,” he said of “You Never Can Tell,” Chuck’s fairy-tale picture of young love in Creole-speaking Louisiana, “how he lived that life with that couple, you know. Oh, the man’s a mountain,” said Allen unhesitatingly.’

A very astute reflection of Chuck’s poetic skills, one that could only be made by a poet about a poet, came from the peoples’ punk poet, the bard of Salford himself, Dr. John Cooper Clarke. Discussing enjambment (the continuation of a sentence without a pause beyond the end of a line, couplet, or stanza) the good doctor said:

‘A great exponent of enjambment was Chuck Berry, one of my lyric-writing heroes. If you read Chuck Berry's lyrics, you're singing the song, there's no other way to go. He writes them that way. You can take away all the music and recite it as poetry, and it will still sound like a song. Check it out with any Chuck Berry song. Another great example of his enjambment is in the song, ‘Brown Eyed Handsome Man’, where it says ‘Way back in history, three thousand years, in fact, ever since the world began’. Now that ‘in fact’, tells you that's the point of Chuck's expertise, everybody else in the rock and roll world would have said ‘Way back in history, three thousand years, ever since the world began’. But that, ‘in fact’, which shouldn't really work, makes it more conversational. He’s recounting a story, trying to prove a point, and that, ‘in fact’, gives it the personal touch. That's what they call enjambment. It shouldn't work but it does. There are too many words for the space, the rhythmic space, to allow but it makes the song’.

Incidentally, those who enjoy anarchic poetry, should check out Clarke’s ‘Evidently Chickentown’ – it’s bloody good.
In the spring of ‘62, on the way to forced incarceration for the second time to the Federal Medical Facility in Springfield, Missouri, ‘Somewhere near the Ozarks of Misery’, Chuck’s poetic muse arose. He wrote, ‘I was thirty-five years old, really set back, feeling more black but still intact’ and composed this plaintive poem,

‘Down from stardom, then I fell, to this lowly prison cell / Far from fortune, far from fame, where a number quotes my name / I among these men in grief, must be firm in my belief / That this shall not be the end, but my chance to rise again / So with patience day by day, I will move to prove a way / Back to freedom. Maybe fame, clearing my encumbered name’.

He didn’t altogether wipe his plate but while in that ‘rotten funky jail’ he did write a quartet of his most vivid and literate songs.
Nadine:

‘I saw her from the corner when she turned and doubled back / Started walkin' toward a coffee coloured Cadillac / I was pushin' through the crowd tryin-ta get to where she's at / I was campaign, shouting like a southern diplomat.’

No Particular Place To Go:

Ridin' along in my calaboose / Still trying to get her belt a-loose / All the way home, I held a grudge / But that safety belt it wouldn't budge.

You Never Can Tell:

They furnished off an apartment with a two room Roebuck sale / The coolerator was crammed with tv dinners and ginger ale / But when Pierre found work, the little money comin' worked out well / C'est la vie, say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell.

The Promised Land:

Sure as you're born he bought me a silk suit / Put some luggage in my hand / And I woke up high over Albuquerque / On a jet to the promised land.

Interviewed by Rolling Stone reporter Patrick Doyle, when life was a little closer to the bone, Chuck said he was hard of hearing and wondering about his future, but still had the presence to recited a little poetry about his condition,

‘I'll give you a little piece of poetry’ he said. ‘Give you a song? / I can't do that / My singing days have passed / My voice is gone, my throat is worn / And my lungs are going fast.’

Finally to return to the start – ‘Maybellene’. The song’s success led to seemingly endless touring, and within twelve months, most likely to break the monotony of singing his two hits verbatim night after night, Chuck added new lyrics to the classic composition as good as the original verses:

‘I peeped in the mirror at the top of the hill / ‘Twas just like swallowing a medicine pill / First thing I saw was that Cadillac Grille / Doing a hundred and ten dropping over that hill / Uphill curve, downhill stretch / Me and that Cadillac was neck and neck’.

More variation to the song came in Chuck’s 1987 autobiography where he added a whole new set of lyrics to Maybellene’s frame with scansion that suited her to a tee:

As I was watching from the windowsill / I saw pretty girls in my dream De Ville / Riding with the guys, up and down the road / Nothin’ I wanted more’n be in that Ford / Sittin’ in class while they takin’ rides / Guys in the middle, girls on both sides.
Oh pretty girl, why can’t you be true / Oh pretty girl, that it’s me with you / You let football players do things I want to do.
Girls in my dream car, door to door / My Ford bogged down wouldn’t hold no more / Ring goes the last school bell of the day / Hurrying outside, see ‘em pulling away / Backseat full even sittin’ on the hood / I knew that was doing my motor good.
Oh pretty girl, why can’t you be true / Oh pretty girl, that it’s me with you / You let football players do things I want to do.
The guys come back after all that fun / Walking with pretty girls, one by one / My heart hangin’ heavy like a ton of lead / Feelin’ so down I can’t raise my head / Just like swallowin’ up a medicine pill / Watching them girls from the windowsill.

I’m surprised some Berry disciple hasn’t recorded this but it’s proof, if proof be needed, that poetry is truly Chuck Berry’s élan vital.