Little Richard - Interview

Peter Galvin

Nearly forty years have passed since the birth of rock 'n' roll, but there has never been a musician who has come within a stone's throw of Little Richard for sheer unadulterated outrageousness.

Born in Macon, Georgia, in 1932, one of twelve children, Richard Penniman began singing in church when he was a child. In his teens, he ran off to sell snake oil in a medicine show and then landed a steady gig with the B. Brown Orchestra in 1950, where the almost six-foot piano man was christened with the misnomer Little Richard. Defecting to join a traveling minstrel show, he occasionally performed in a dress and heels. He cut various records over the next four years, but it wasn't until he recorded the song "Tutti Frutti," a raunchy piano-bashing paean to the joys of copulation, in 1955 that Little Richard finally made his way into the hearts and libidos of America's youth.

Pioneering a raucous R&B-influenced rock sound before Elvis Presley even graduated high school, the self-proclaimed architect of rock 'n' roll drove audiences wild with his incendiary, gospel-style vocals, key-banging piano playing, and an androgynous look that combined flamboyant outfits, heavy makeup, and very tall hair. At the time, Little Richard was also a pioneer on the sexual stage, as a performer who was not afraid of being perceived as gay, and who was both loved and abhorred for his effeminate ways. He himself has since disavowed his homosexuality and now insists that his pseudo-drag queen persona was strictly a show-business necessity.

We recently met at Hamburger Hamlet--his choice--in Beverly Hills. The singer, who had just returned from a guest appearance on The Tonight Show, was wearing the subtlest trace of pancake and eyeliner to go along with his black blazer, baggy red pants with a jeweled applique down the side of each leg, and red high-heeled boots. Skirting any questions that might rightfully cast him as the forerunner to such iconoclastic contemporary performers as Boy George and Ru-Paul, Little Richard now sees rock 'n' roll merely as a way to make a living. Always a spiritual man, his real mission, as he repeatedly imparted to me with evangelical fervor, his eyes wide with passion and his large head of long black hair shaking back and forth, is "to be one of God's children and to follow Him and to show His love to a dying generation." To assist him in this endeavor, he passes out a religious book called Finding Peace Within to the many fans who come up and shake his hand and sing his praises--several of whom interrupted our dinner.

PETER GALVIN: First of all, I wanted to tell you how much I liked the song "Somethin' Else," your duet with Tanya Tucker on the Rhythm, Country & Blues album. I listened to it over and over today, and what's amazing to me is that your voice sounds as good now as it did in 1955.

LITTLE RICHARD: That song was very easy for me to do because it sounds just like one of my records, "Keep A Knockin'." Plus I love Tanya Tucker and I love country music. I also like the banging piano--that old good-time piano.

PG: Why do you think there are so few black people playing rock 'n' roll today, considering that you were there at the very beginning?

LR: When you sit down and think about what rock 'n' roll music really is, then you have to change that question. Played up-tempo, you call it rock 'n' roll; at a regular tempo, you call it rhythm and blues. There was nothing but black people in R&B when I came out: Fats Domino, Chuck Berry, Elmore James--they were just playing blues up-tempo. That's what Tina Turner did, too--sang blues up-tempo--and they called it rock 'n' roll. Now they have banging guitar and no bass and call it rock, but that's not what I call rock. To me, true rock 'n' roll has a lot of bottom in it.

PG: I was wondering if the reason you were attracted to making rock 'n' roll when you were younger was because it offered you freedom of expression, a kind of expression that maybe you felt you had no outlet for in other aspects of your life.

LR: Yes. Rock 'n' roll offered me a platform to speak what I felt. It also offered me a platform to support my mama and my brothers and sisters--twelve children. It was a way out of poverty. It was a way to success. It was a way to education. And it was a way to a brighter day for me.

PG: The reason why I asked about freedom of expression was because I read in your book that you did some crazy things as a kid, and I wondered if being able to go out on stage and get wild and crazy was an extension of that behavior.

LR: What book are you speaking of?

PG: Your authorized biography, The Life and Times of Little Richard. I call it your book because a lot of the text is made up of long quotes that came straight from you.

LR: There is a lot of stuff in there that I had nothing to do with--people said what they wanted to say. A lot of their thoughts are not my thoughts.

FEMALE FAN: [handling a piece of paper to LR] Would you sign this? I know I'm sort of intruding, but you're one of my idols.

LR: That's all right. I'd be very glad to. I'm gonna give you one of my books.

FF: Oh, great!

LR: What's your name? [starts to sign book]

FF: Suzi. S-u-z-i. You look great.

LR: [hands her the book] Thank you so much. God bless you. Thanks for coming over. [to PG] Now what was the question again?

PG: I was asking you about being mischievous as a child, and how you translated that energy and wildness into your stage presence.

LR: I was really kind of shy as a child. But I would do things for attention. Like, my mother would have company over, and I would sing so they'd pay attention to me.

PG: Do you think the reason kids were so attracted to your music in the '50s was because it offered them a release--a release that was ultimately very sexual--from the restrictive values of that era? It was as if they projected onto you things they felt inside but weren't able to express in their everyday lives.

LR: Yes, but I won't say that it was sexual. I think they saw me as something like a deliverer, a way out. My means of expression, my music, was a way in which a lot of people wished they could express themselves and couldn't. I'm not speaking about sexuality because I wasn't an expression of such a thing. But I was singing loud, and most singers weren't singing loud. I would wear flamboyant clothes and long hair, and most singers at the time didn't. I let people know that it was all right to do the kinds of things I did.

PG: But weren't there people who criticized you for the way you were?

LR: I was always my own person. I never accepted the idea that I had to be guided by some pattern or blueprint. I did what I felt, and I felt what I did, at all costs.

PG: I want to refer to your biography again, in which you said that some people called you "freak," "sissy," and "faggot" for the way you dressed and acted onstage.

LR: I never heard nobody in my audience call me any kind of names. I've heard people in the audience screaming, "We love you," or "Long live Little Richard." I've heard people call me the Quasar, the Architect, the Originator, but I never heard nobody in the audience saying such a thing. I don't carry myself that way, never have. I'm very much a gentleman in what I do. And I don't get down on nobody else for doing whatever else they do. To each his own. I try to be a guide for people, to make their darkness bright and to make the pathway light, and never to condemn or control or criticize. I've tried to let my life be an example. I'll be sixty-two this year, and I've lived too long, come too far, to be considered a misfit.

PG: In terms of the makeup, the long hair, and the flamboyant clothes, you were very much a pioneer of an androgynous look.

LR: I don't understand what that word means.

PG: Androgynous means having both masculine and feminine characteristics.

LR: I only wore makeup when I went onstage. I didn't get up in the morning and say, I'm going to put on a pound of eyebrow pencil. But when I went on the stage to do a show, I would put on makeup because I felt that it enhanced my act; it drew attention to what I was doing. I tried to look presentable for a show, but not for sexual attraction. It was strictly for show business. When I got through with my act, I was through with it. I always knew I was a man, always felt that I was a man, always wanted to be a man. I thank God for making me a man. If I had my life to live over, I would want to be a man. And I think a woman should find it a joy to be female because God made both male and female.

PG: But do you think men have a feminine side?

LR: Well, I don't know much about that.

PG: I don't mean wanting to put on drag. I mean, do you think that men possess certain qualities--like sensitivity--that are more feminine than masculine?

LR: I don't think that you have to be effeminate to be sensitive. I don't think a woman has to act like a man to show that she has strength. I think that a man should be caring. I think that God made him to be caring and to be thoughtful. I think God made a woman to be strong and not to be trampled under the feet of men. I've always felt this way because my mother was a very strong woman, without a husband. My dad died at an early age.

PG: I know that at one time in your life you studied to be a minister. Do you do any formal preaching?

LR: No, I've never truly been a minister. I love God, and I'm a follower. But I'm a rock 'n' roll singer; that's my livelihood, my occupation. I'm here to sing.

PG: You once said that rock 'n' roll was "demonic." Did you really ever think that it was the devil's music?

LR: I've never seen the devil create music. From my studying I've learned that he can't create anything. God is the creator. You understand me? God is omnipotent, He is omniscient, and He is ever present. I don't give the devil credit for creating nothing.

PG: Then did God create rock 'n' roll?

LR: No, I wouldn't ever say that because I don't talk about God in that sense. I wouldn't bring God down to that level. Not that rock 'n' roll is a bad thing--I'm not saying that. What I'm saying is that man created rock 'n' roll. God gives us the ability, but rock 'n' roll was created by men. I am one of the men and I'm not God. Don't claim to be.

FEMALE FAN: I have to interrupt.

LR: Yes?

FF: I saw your concert at the House of Blues, and it was great.

LR: Thank you so much. Did you enjoy my dancers?

FF: Everything was great.

LR: Thank you, baby, and God bless you. [she leaves]

PG: What about people who don't believe in God?

LR: I think people who don't believe in God are crazy. How can you say there is no God when you hear the birds singing these beautiful songs you didn't make?

PG: But what about the other side--the tragedy and the sadness, the crime and the killing that goes on in the world?

LR: God has nothing to do with that, because God is love. But men are so full of greed today, they'll sell anything for a little piece of money. They'll sell their mother, their father. They'll kill their sisters and brothers--don't matter. Greed has taken the whole universe, and nobody is worried about their soul. I just want the world to know that God is present, that he's alive for ever more. [pauses] I just felt a tingling go through my body--electric--just then. It felt good just to know that God is everything.

PG: What about people born into difficult circumstances that result in them stealing and killing, taking back what they feel has been stolen from them? I'm not saying what they do is justified by their circumstances, but God brought them into those circumstances in the first place.

LR: I was born into a poor situation. My mother had twelve children, and we didn't have no table like this [motions to the table], no food like this. We had only two bedrooms in the house for twelve people. Some situations you cause yourself. Why bring children into a bad situation? I think you should be able to take care of your own. I also think that what's wrong with all of us is that we don't show enough love toward each other. We need to stop saying, Me! I! I! I!

PG: O.K. You've said God takes care of all people. What about gay people?

LR: All people--whether you're crippled, blind, black, white, red, brown, yellow, Italian, Jewish, whatever. God lets his sun shine on all of us, regardless of what anyone else may think. God gives all people love regardless of what they are.

PG: What do you think of people who say that God doesn't love gay people?

LR: Well, I won't even try to speak for them. That's their problem. I don't have anything to do with them. But God loves them, too.

PG: [laughs] Good answer.

LR: Thank you.

PG: One more tiny question. Where did "Awop-bop-a-loo-bop-awop-bam-boom" come from?

LR: "Awop-bop-a-loo-mop-alop-bam-boom" came from Macon, Georgia [laughs], and it's been traveling ever since.

PG: How did you think it up?

LR: One night I forgot some words to a song, and those words came to me. It was my first big hit. "Tutti frutti, aw rootie." I thank God for those words. And I'd like to end your program by thanking you for coming out. And I'd like to give my love to everybody, and let them know that the grass may look greener on the other side, but believe me, it's just as hard to cut. And I'd just like to leave them with "Awop-bop-a-loo-mop-alop-bam-boom!"

COPYRIGHT 1994 Brant Publications, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group