Although I was familiar with a few of the tunes, I was astonished at how good and often great every track was. Thank you, Fats! Antoine Domino died last week at age 89 and it's still a blast to spin his legendary recordings.
From the stomping "The Fat Man" (recorded in 1949), to the end of his great run at Imperial Records in the early '60s to Fats Is Back! (1968) to Live from Austin, TX (his "Austin City Limits" set, taped in October 1986), those grooves and playful voice are leaving me only when my ashes are scattered.
Of the first wave of rock'n'rollers, Elvis Presley--and no one else--sold more music than Fats in the 1950s, and I'd argue that Domino's utter consistency was unmatched during that period.
Some favorites: "Goin' Home" (1952), the slow blues classic.
"Be My Guest" (1959): "I'm the king but you can wear my crown"--Fats at his most congenial.
"I'm Gonna Be a Wheel Someday" (1959): Featuring some powerful accents and a rollicking, fighting spirit.
"My Girl Josephine" (1960): Pre-reggae, forecasting the sound to come--you know Jamaicans were listening to this via American radio.
The lovely "Walking to New Orleans" (1960): His Creole accent makes it sound like "Walking to New Water."
"I'm Ready" (1959): "Talkin' on the phone is not my speed/don't send me no letters 'cause I can't read" and a favorite piano riff.
"It's You I Love" (1957): Saxophone, not piano, driven.
"Yes My Darling" (1958): Unusual sounding guitar--so good.
"Blue Monday" (1956): "Wednesday morning I'm beat to my socks"--which is often incorrectly shown on lyric websites.
And especially 1957's "The Rooster Song," with its perfect kind of optimism:
I know a lady named Sue
Her rooster died too
She didn't sigh, she didn't cry
She made her a pot of stew!
Despite the jolly New Orleans sound (and great horns by Lee Allen, Herb Hardesty and arranger Dave Bartholomew--plus Earl Palmer's huge, huge drumming), there are many
Fats tracks that depict loss and sadness. And when I hear about the "happy go lucky" style that's all too easily attributed to Domino's music, I think of the drug addiction that riddled some of his touring bands--this is documented in Rick Coleman's book, Blue Monday: Fats Domino In the Lost Dawn of Rock'n'Roll (Da Capo Press, 2007)--or the racism of the deep South that impacted his touring years. Wait...how about racism in the North? You might have heard that when Fats first appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show, he performed in front of the curtain and his band members were playing behind the curtain, out of the television audience's sight. I'm a little worried that we haven't learned much since then.
Fats, you were something more than special.