If February 3, 1959, was the day the music died, then February 9, 1964, is the day it was reborn.
That first date is the day when rising rock stars Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and J.P. Richardson (The Big Bopper), along with their pilot, were killed in a plane crash near Clear Lake, Iowa. Buddy Holly was the most well-known, having written many hits and covered songs by others. Every Day, Maybe Baby, and It’s So Easy are three that get covered today by popular singers. Valens, known for La Bamba and Donna, was considered the founder of Chicano rock. The Big Bopper is most remembered for Chantilly Lace, but wrote songs that became hits for others (White Lightning and Treasure of Love were two for George Jones.)
I was not quite six when their small plane went down, and do not remember it. The most I learned about it was from Don McClean’s American Pie, which came out in 1971. But I did learn some of the music when I was a young teen in Milledgeville, Georgia. WMVG is an AM station located in that central Georgia town. Back in the mid 1960’s they had an hour of rock music, from 4 until 5 in the afternoon, called Teen Time, and they would allow young teens to come in and cue up and introduce the 45 rpm records in their library. It was mostly whatever was the latest hits that could be heard (or seen) on American Bandstand, but they also had some of the classics of Buddy Holly, The Big Bopper, Richie Valens, Bill Haley and the Comets, and others. My best friend from those days, Ray James, and I would occasionally get to be in that booth and introduce the songs. The music may have died in 1959, but it had since been reborn and was growing up fast.
I got to watch it being born (at least in the USA) and grow up as I grew up.
February 9, 1964, was a Sunday. I was living in Tallahassee, FL, where my father was a graduate student at FSU (Go Seminoles!). I was in the fifth grade at Carolyn Brevard Elementary School. Television had become the nation’s medium for just about everything. I remember sitting in silence in my classroom just a few months earlier when the television was rolled in, and we watched the shocking reports of the assassination of President Kennedy. It seems odd now to bring that kind of news before fifth graders, but our teachers knew this would be a defining moment in our lives. As we watched the news on TV, we also watched the tears coming from our teacher’s eyes.
Entertainment and story-telling was also shown by this electronic box in our living rooms. Bonanza, I Love Lucy, The Twilight Zone, and Gunsmoke kept us glued to our seats.
The crowning show, though, was the variety show The Ed Sullivan Show. Ed was the host of a show that featured famous opera singers, plate spinners, ballets, comedians, and a mouse called Topo Gigio. We always hurried home from the evening church service to catch Ed Sullivan.
And on February 9, 1964, five years and six days after it died, the music was reborn with these words- “And now, ladies and gentlemen The Beatles!” Most news reports the next day were about the crowds. There was constant screaming from the teenagers in the audience. And there were some comments about their “puddin’ basin” haircuts, later called a Beatle haircut. (I always thought it looked a little more stylish Moe of the Three Stooges hair style.) What I remember most was the music.
They started with All My Loving, then Til There Was You, and ended the short set with She Loves You (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah). They returned in the second half of the show and played I Saw Her Standing There and I Want to Hold Your Hand.
The British Invasion began and the American response to it. I got to see a lot of it live. The Rolling Stones, Gerry and the Pacemakers, The Kinks, Led Zeppelin from across the pond. The Beach Boys, The Byrds, Buffalo Springfield, Credence Clearwater Revival, Jefferson Airplane, and The Grateful Dead from our side.
We cannot forget Elvis, who preceded the Beatles in fame and notoriety, but he never really pushed the boundaries. The Beatles did.
I read an article that said the music that was popular when we were fourteen is the music that defined us. Mine began a few years earlier.
Recently I was riding down the road listening to Sirius XM radio and realized I hardly ever listened to anything but music from that era in my life. So, I asked two younger friends to make me a list of twenty-five albums they thought were essential for someone to hear if they wanted to know about their generation’s music. One friend is 45, 25 years younger than me. The other is 20 years younger than him. I am working my way through my 45-year-old’s music, and it is amazing how good it is. I cannot wait to start on 25-year-old’s list.
In 1697 William Cosgrove, a playwright, wrote “Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast.” It also has the power to ignite the imagination, make the feet dance, the eyes cry, and hands reach out in compassion.
To quote The Doobie Brothers:
Don’t you feel it growing, day by day
People getting ready for the news
Some are happy, some are sad
Whoa, gotta let the music play
What the people need is a way to make ’em smile
It ain’t so hard to do if you know how
Gotta get a message, get it on through
Oh, now momma don’t you ask me why
Whoa, oh listen to the music
Whoa, oh listen to the music
Whoa, oh listen to the music
All the time.
All the time.
Michael Henderson 