The 500 - #92 - 20 Golden Greats - Buddy Holly & The Crickets

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

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Album: #92

Album Title: 20 Golden Greats (aka) Buddy Holly Lives

Artist: Buddy Holly & The Crickets

Genre: Rock and Roll

Recorded: Between 1956 - 1958

Released: February, 1978

My age at release: 12

How familiar was I with it before this week: Quite well

Is it on the 2020 list? Yes, at #166 - dropping 74 spots

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Everyday

In the late 1970s, something strange was happening. Pop culture had fully embraced a revival of the 1950s. From fashion to music to slang expressions, North America was fully embracing an idealized version of Eisenhower-America.

Now, to a 12-year old kid growing up in the small farming and fishing town of Kingsville, Ontario, this seemed entirely normal.  When you are that young, everything is your "normal". You don't have enough life experience to know that the world could be any other way. A child who grows up wealthy assumes everybody takes vacations, flies on airplanes and has a family cottage somewhere. A child raised during the Second World War came to accept blackouts, ration books, bomb shelters, and fathers away in uniform as part of everyday life. The remarkable becomes ordinary when it is all you have ever known.

A young boy wears a ‘Mickey Mouse’ gas mask produced for children
between two and five. The facepiece was red, and the breathing
section was blue and green to make them more friendly.

So, in 1978, I found myself surrounded by a pop-culture filled with greasers, jukeboxes, sock hops, leather jackets, and the ever-present influence of Arthur "Fonzie" Fonzarelli. Somewhere between the  successes of American Graffiti, Happy Days, Laverne & Shirley, and Grease, popular culture of the time collectively decided to take a 20-year step backward.

American Graffiti film (1973), Happy Days
debut (1974), Laverne & Shirley (1976)
Grease (1978).

In the late‘70s, Tuesday nights belonged to Happy Days. If you had any hope of participating in school discussions the next morning, watching was mandatory. Missing an episode meant standing on the sidelines while everyone else debated the latest exploits of Richie Cunningham, his family, friends -- Ralph Malph, Potsie Webber --and, of course, the king of cool, Arthur "The Fonz" Fonzarelli.

Scene from Happy Days, (l) Richie Cunningham (Ron Howard)
with The Fonz (Henry Winkler), outside Arnold's Restaurant.

The '50s nostalgia craze spread everywhere in the '70s. American Graffiti had planted the seed first by introducing audiences to a romanticized vision of the time and the music that accompanied it. By 1978, television had fully embraced the post-war Eisenhower era. Happy Days became a new phenomenon which continued with its first spin-off series, Laverne & Shirley. Looking back, it is remarkable how thoroughly a generation of children became fascinated by a time period we had never actually experienced. From Jukeboxes to Fats Domino, to saddle shoes and poodle skirts -- I think I knew as much about America in the '50s than I did about Canada in 1978.

For elementary school kids in 1978, a Happy Days lunch box 

was practically standard issue.

One of the more baffling examples of 70s nostalgia for the 50s was the emergence of the rock and roll and doo-wop revival group Sha Na Na. The ten piece musical ensemble performed a song-dance and comedy repertoire that featured, and parodied, the music of the 1950s and the era’s New York gang culture. The group’s syndicated television series (1978 - 1981) somehow became appointment viewing, despite being (objectively speaking) generally unfunny.

Sha Na Na - musical group and television show cast.

The humour relied heavily on exaggerated characters, corny catchphrases, slapstick antics and broad mugging for the camera. Even as kids, my friend circle understood the jokes were pretty thin. Still, we watched every week, happily offering our own terrible Bowzer impressions on the playground the next day. The appeal was never really the comedy. It was the energy, the music, and the simple fact that, with only a few TV channels to choose from, a bunch of greasers singing old rock-and-roll hits seemed like perfectly reasonable entertainment.

Jon "Bowzer" Bauman was the 'breakout' character
on the Sha Na Na television series.

Then came the summer of 1978, when Grease seemed to take over the world. The soundtrack was everywhere and songs from the movie dominated the charts. Even if you had not seen the film, you knew the music.

Album cover for the soundtrack to Grease.

1978 also brought the film The Buddy Holly Story starring Gary Busey to audiences. For many people of my generation, this became our introduction to the music of Buddy Holly. Coincidentally, 1978 was also around the time I began spending more time digging through record bins and developing my own musical tastes. I distinctly remember seeing the 20 Golden Greats record with the hastily scrawled Buddy Holly Lives on the cover. I didn’t buy it, but I picked it up more than once, turning it over in my hands and wondering what all the fuss was about. Like so many kids my age, I was beginning to discover older music just as the rest of popular culture seemed determined to rediscover it.

Movie poster for The Buddy Holly Story.

I've written about Buddy Holly before. Back in June, 2020, I wrote about his record, The Chirping Crickets, (#420 on The 500). Four songs from that album appear again on 20 Golden Greats. They are among my favourites, particularly, That'll Be the Day, Not Fade Away, Oh, Boy! and Maybe Baby. If you are looking for Holly's biography and the story of his untimely death, that article covers the details.

Album cover for The Chirping Crickets (#420 on The 500).

This time, I am interested in something different. Why did Buddy Holly become popular again in 1978?

Part of the answer lies in nostalgia, movies, and television. Another part lies in the music itself. Holly's songs are short, direct, energetic, and built around unforgettable hooks. Listening today, they almost feel proto-punk...maybe even proto-proto-punk (if there is such a thing). At the exact moment when punk was exploding and progressive rock's sprawling concept albums and marathon guitar solos were beginning to fade from fashion, Buddy Holly's catalogue suddenly sounded modern again. A teenager starting a garage band in 1978 could find plenty of inspiration in those records.

The similarities between Buddy Holly and The Ramones are striking. Songs including Peggy Sue rely on three basic chords, relentless backbeats, and short track lengths, matching the exact formula of the Ramones' 1976 self-titled debut album (#33 on The 500). Additionally, London punk legends The Clash and 70's San Francisco hardcore punkers The Dead Kennedys famously covered I Fought The Law, a song written by Sonny Curtis of The Crickets. 

Album cover for the single release of I Fought The Law, by The Clash.

So, in 1978, nearly twenty years after his death, Buddy Holly was back in the record bins, back on the airwaves, and back in popular culture and even permeating the brain of an impressionable Canadian adolescent who was starting his search for a musical identity. Perhaps the title Buddy Holly Lives was not seem quite so far-fetched.