1955 Bill Haley & His Comets: Rock Around The Clock

If 'Secret Love' reminded me of Robinson Crusoe finding Friday's footprint in the sand, 'Rock Around The Clock' puts me in mind of the scene in Jurassic Park just before the T Rex puts in its first appearance. We've already seen some of the more harmless creatures but, whilst they've been amusing enough, it's the big boys on the block that everybody has been dying to see.

I've been feeling much the same way myself so far this decade. There have been some interesting enough singles to be sure, but I've been longing to plant my feet in more familiar territory where the music is actually speaking to me rather than at me and if ever a song came pre-loaded with an aura of it's own self importance to do just that then it's this one; plenty of folk still regard this as the birthplace of what we came to call rock and roll. Not that I'd agree with that, but nevertheless Haley and his Comets manage to stamp the ground hard enough to ripple the water in the plastic cup of familiarity perched on my dashboard in their announcement that something big is coming.

So ok, although I wouldn't call Haley's 'Rock Around The Clock' revolutionary, a quick listen to the original version (by Sonny Daye and his Knights) reveals a version as poor as those puns and one rooted firmly in old fashioned cornball. By hooking up to the basic tune from Hank Williams' 'Move It On Over', the Comets light the sort of fire under the song that Sonny was trying to estinguish and in keeping a constant hammering backbeat for the horn and guitar runs to hang themselves on, it distances itself well away from what would otherwise be little more than a variation on trad jazz. No, if there's a weak link here, then it's Haley himself; put simply, he was more in the camp of the problem than the camp of the solution.

There's ample precedent in blues/r&b to take the song's references to 'rock' as a sly euphemism for sex - in the parlance of black music of the time then to rock is to fuck and if that is the case, then Bill would struggle to satisfy the most least demanding lover. He starts off strong enough with his 'one, two three o'clock, four o'clock rock' refrain that carries a wicked glint in its tone, but by the time seven rolls around he's stumbling over his words and from there on in he lags behind the Comets, completely out of puff as they roar over the horizon without him.

Never mind shagging, Haley doesn't sound like he'd be capable of getting to first base, let alone doing any kind of rocking and much of the problem stems from him still being wrapped in the embrace of his previous career as a country star (or else lacks the talent to break free of it). Rather than snapping out the lyrics with an urgency, Haley wastes far too much time pronouncing every syllable to try and make them fit the beats of the bar and ending each line with a balladic flourish that might have been fine for the Grand Old Opry but are ill company for a backing band keen to embrace the shock of the new. In fact, Haley sounds like a bit part player in his own song, a kindly uncle content to put his feet up and smile as the 'young 'uns' do their thing.

Not revolutionary new then (I'm not going to go into a history lesson of the gestation of popular music, it's not the place and I don't have the time - look it up if you're interested), but new enough to capture the minds of an emerging generation of teenager looking for an alternative to the 78's their parents bought, and as far as that goes I think the thing I like most about 'Rock Around The Clock' is the fact I'm writing about it here at all. Lest we forget, the song and its parent film 'The Blackboard Jungle' incited riots and ripped up seats in the cinemas it was shown in and there's something wonderfully subversive in such provocative rebellion landing at the top of the charts. It's more than any punk single would manage anyway.

True, Haley's soft vocal and kiss curl image take more than a slight edge of danger off it all, but it still has teeth enough to set it apart from the majority of the 'moon in June' balladry that filled up the charts around it. In hindsight, it might have been Haley's not inconsiderable bulk that was shaking that ground rather than anything more fierce emerging from the trees, but in crashing through he cleared a path that would make it that much easier for the more aggressive beasts to follow.