Beech Tree News Network

For the next few weeks, give or take, I’ll bring you the stories behind songs that, for whatever reason, were banned in certain areas.  This week, the song that everyone knows but no one understands, “Louie Louie”.  

Recorded by the Kingsmen, this song began climbing the pop charts upon release in 1963. Everybody knows it, nobody understands the words, and even fewer know the story of the song’s evolution-how it went from West Coast dance hit to party anthem with an FBI investigation and a Supreme Court case along the way.

The song was first recorded in 1957 by Richard Berry, a Los Angeles musician. It tells the story of a sailor who must ship out and leave his girlfriend behind. The lyrics, written in a faux Jamaican dialect, were an attempt to tap into the calypso music popular at the time (Harry Belafonte was topping the charts).  The melodic riff came from a song called “El Loco Cha Cha”, recorded by Cuban American bandleader Rene Touzet.

According to music writer Peter Blecha, author of Stomp and Shout: R&B and the origins of Northwest Rock and Roll, the song found popularity in the L.A. area first.  But then, Berry took it on tour up and down the West Coast, and its popularity spread.  

The song’s rhythm made it a favorite on jukeboxes and at teenage dances.  “Rather than featuring free-form dancing”, says Blecha, “dances at that time would often require specific steps to specific songs or beats-the mashed potato, the stroll, the Watusi.  The cha-cha was on the list as well, and “Louie Louie” had a great cha-cha beat.  “It became the required song that every Northwest teenage band had to play at every dance every week”, says Blecha.

One of those teenage bands was the Kingsmen.  There have been other versions recorded by other bands (notably Paul Rever & the Raiders).  But this was the one that took the song from regional dance standard to national phenomenon.  

“The studio that these bands were going to record in had very little experience recording bands-rock bands were sort of new in the area” says Blecha.  “It was a jingle studio.  They made radio ads for, you know, car lots and for bakeries and for radio stations.  So, I don’t think they were used to setting up the microphones properly for a loud, pounding rock band.”  Band members have said the engineer hung a microphone high above them, causing singer Jack Ely to have to shout to be heard.  His enunciation wasn’t helped by the fact that he wore braces.  

It turned out having words nobody could understand would prove surprisingly important.  Dick Peterson joined the band in 1963, stepping in after the original drummer was drafted.  And he says when kids couldn’t understand the song, they came up with their own lyrics.  

“We were on the front page of every newspaper saying that we were corrupting the moral fiber of the youth of America,” remembers Peterson.  “And J. Edgar Hoover launched an investigation-they woke us up in the middle of the night pounding on the door: “FBI, FBI!”

In addition to the obscenity investigation, the song was banned by the governor of Indiana and investigated by the FCC, who the Kingsmen eventually testified in front of.  “The magistrate, I guess he’s called, or judge, he said “let me hear it,” says Peterson.  “And he thought, “why are you fighting over this? It’s a piece of junk.”  And so he said, “Listen, nobody can tell what it says.  I’m going to deem it unintelligible at any speed and lift the ban.”

Peterson says the controversy is part of what kept it on the charts.  “The kids thought we got away with murder.  And from then on we were able to go on television shows-we went on Shindig five times, Hullabaloo, American Bandstand, says Peterson.  “We just went around the country playing concerts and playing to huge crowds.”

“Louie Louie” has now been covered a ridiculous number of times.  It’s a marching band standard and has been featured in countless advertisements and movies.  It’s also been part of a royalty lawsuit Dick Peterson took all the way up to the Supreme Court.

That’s a big story for a simple song.  But music writer Peter Blecha sys that simplicity-in addition to all the drama-is part of why its been so enduring. He quotes musician Paul Rever, who recorded another popular early version with his band Paul Revere and the Raiders.  

“He said the reason for the popularity is because of its simpleness, its stupidness”, quotes Blecha. “Three chords and the most mundane beat possible.  Any idiot could learn it, and they all did.”  (www.npr.org)