This is the last time we're going to meet Guy Mitchell on this particular journey, and even though I've been less than kind to him so far in, I'm going to miss him. True, some of his offerings to date would be best viewed disappearing round a U bend, but there was always something dogged about Mitchell, something of the derring do in the way he shamelessly bounces from song to style like a steel pinball looking for a genre he could call his own. By 1957, the sands of opportunity were running low for a thirty year old, pre 'pop' pop star and in listening to 'Rock A Billy' I hear an act of desperation.'Rock A Billy' is a fun but neutered party song that, in an attempt to snare as wide an audience as possible, spreads its hybrid pop/rock & roll assault too thinly. That he almost pulls it off is again down to that tenacity I so admire; more hokey ("Wiggle like a trout" indeed) than any genuine attempt to re-cast himself as a rocker, Mitchell's gritted teeth vocal knows its out of its depth delivering faux hip jive like "Since rock-a-billy swang the do-si-do, and the gee-tar man chased the old banjo. Leave the hoe for the crow, holler Go, man, go", and repeating 'rock, rock, rock' over and over again begs the question as to who he's actually trying to convince?
Because judging by the distance he puts between himself and any pretence of understanding what he's on about, Mitchell may as well have been singing phonetic Greek, though I'm sure the alcoholic to come in him would have appreciated the "Give me mountain juice, turn me loose, leave me wave my arms about" shout. I've been there too Guy, and judging by that cover pic you're not too far off yourself. And for making me smile in the middle of a bad week, I'm going to cut you some slack and mark this as a 'break even' kind of number one, even if it is too square for the hip kids but too rowdy for the oldies.
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