He called himself “the last man standing,” a reference to the rock ‘n’ roll icons of which he was among the most notable. Jerry Lee Lewis died last week at age 87. He was the last in a line of rock greats whose records I played as a 16-year-old disc jockey at a small radio station in Rockville, Maryland.
Lewis was controversial to put it mildly. After marrying his 13-year-old cousin (while he was still married to someone else), radio stations refused to play his records and personal appearances were canceled. To the extent he was able to overcome what was then universally regarded as a scandal and moral failure, it was the power of his music that eased his comeback.
Like Elvis, Lewis was a force of nature. I saw him perform live once near the end of his career (Little Richard and Chuck Berry were also on the program). While he was phoning it in by then, occasionally the old Boogie-Woogie style came through.
I also recall seeing him on Dick Clark’s Saturday Night TV show at the Little Theatre in New York. Lewis wanted to perform “Great Balls of Fire” with tubes on both sides of the stage that would shoot fire into the air. The fire marshal was called in to approve the devices, which some thought posed a risk to the old and probably highly flammable theater. The stunt was approved, but firefighters stood by. Anyone who saw Lewis perform along with what looked like flame throwers will never forget it.
There’s a video on YouTube featuring Lewis with Ray Charles and Fats Domino, backed up by Rolling Stones guitarist Ron Wood. It runs seven and a half minutes and I defy anyone to sit still while watching it.
Lewis was one of the many white performers who played what some called back then “negro music.” As with Elvis, many parents also labeled it “the devil’s music,” but later mostly came to accept it. Little Richard said white kids kept Pat Boone records on the top of their dressers, but hid his music and that of other black performers in the drawers so their parents wouldn’t see them.
Jerry Lee Lewis had a style unique to himself. I’m putting on some of his records (now on CDs, though I still have several 45s leftover from that radio station) and recall what it was like as a teenager to have been left “breathless-uh.”