Little Richard paces the stage of the Whisky à-Go-Go on the Sunset Strip. Mick and Keith watch from the shadows. Little Richard bulges against the confines of his gold lame suit. A gold cape is draped across his shoulders. The heavy pancake make-up on his face is starting to run from the sweat he’s building up. His eyebrows are carefully plucked; his mustache is pencil thin. He’s working the crowd, lecturing to an all-white audience. I’d never seen him before, and I was enthralled.
“All I hear today is about The Beatles. Beatles. Beatles. Beatles. Or about The Rolling Stones. The Rolling Stones. Why, shit!” yells Richard, talking very fast. “Why, I taught them EVERYTHING THEY KNOW. SHIT!” A high-pitched yelp escapes his lips. He is high camp. “Look at me. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” Above his coffee-colored face his hair is pomaded and sprayed into a stiff pompadour. “Shit,” he says. “Shee-yit!”
He sits down at the piano, a stream of words cascading from his mouth. “LUCILLE! PLEASE COME BACK WHERE YOU BELONG. LUCILLE! PLEASE COME BACK WHERE YOU BELONG . . ..”
He pounds the piano. Pure, early American rock and roll. Little Richard comes from Main Street, Macon, Georgia. It’s a long way from Macon to the Sunset Strip.
“AM I BEAUTIFUL?” he yells to the audience, carving out a place for himself, a black rock-and-rolling Liberace. Then, later, he yells, “Okay, they tole me you was out there.” He drops his voice.
“Tonight,” he tells the crowd, “we have with us Mick Jagger and Keith Richards from the great Rolling Stones.” Then he yells, “AN’ I TAUGHT ‘EM EVERYTHING THEY KNOW! GO ON NOW. ADMIT IT. SHIT!”
Heads turn, trying to find Mick and Keith, but they are well back in the shadows. Silence.
“I know you’re out there, Keith Richards! Hey, Keith! Mick!” Silence.
“HEY, C’MON BOYS. THIS HERE IS LITTLE RICHARD. TELL EM I TAUGHT YOU EVERYTHING! GO ON . . .” Pacing the stage, “AIN’T I JUST BEAUTIFUL? SHIT!”
Keith says, “You’re beautiful,” loud enough for Richard to hear.
“You bet I’m beautiful. Shit!” says Little Richard. FROM AN AMERICAN STORY
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