An early arrival in Paducah gave Bo Diddley a rare day off on Wednesday, allowing the musician time for one of his favorite hobbies — browsing through pawn shops.
“I love hunting pawn shops, just to see what goodies I can find,” Diddley said. “I’m an electronics fanatic, and these days, a lot of the old things are new again, ya dig?”
Diddley, 77, of Archer Fla., displayed a gentle smile and keen wit in talking about his more than a half-century in the music business. He will perform tonight at the Luther F. Carson Four Rivers Center, one of 49 stops on his current tour.
While relaxing in his Paducah hotel room, Diddley wore black slacks, blue golf shirt, white sweat socks and his trademark “Hatsman,” similar to a homburg, adorned with the eagle pin that he designed. Between phone calls, he reflected on the early days of rock ’n’ roll, his passion for restoring cars and his career that also has included parts in movies and commercials.
Diddley is a singer and songwriter known best for his edgy and driving guitar licks and rhythm, and beginning in the early 1950s, he transcended blues into the new sound called rock ’n’ roll. He voiced some bitterness that he never received the credit he said he deserved on influencing the early rock sound.
“Now I keep hearing these musicians saying they are playing the ‘Bo Diddley beat.’ Well, I ain’t seen no checks,” Diddley said with a smile. “Elvis (Presley), he didn’t do what everyone said he did, being the king of rock ’n’ roll. I’m the cat Elvis copied. Now don’t get me wrong, Elvis was good. I liked a lot of the stuff he put out. But I can’t help but have a little resentment. I’m not mad at Elvis. I just want to be recognized.”
Music success was not immediate for Diddley. He knocked around the country for about 12 years before fans started to notice his unique sound. Although many musicians of the same era sold more records over the years, artists including the late Buddy Holly and the Rolling Stones said Diddley’s innovative music influenced them, which pleased him.
While many of his blues and rock contemporaries honed their musical chops in small roadhouses, Diddley’s first venture in music was very traditional.
“I played classical violin for 13 years and it helped me with this,” said Diddley, holding up his left hand and moving his fingers as if going along the neck of a guitar. “It taught me to deal with my fingers because I don’t have the fastest fingers in the world.”
How did he go from the classics to the blues and hard-charging rock ’n’ roll?
“I just changed. The violin was just a stepping stone. When I switched to guitar, I wanted to play just like (blues great) Muddy Waters. That’s a problem in music, too many copycats. There was about 200 to 300 dudes trying to play like Muddy Waters so I left him alone. I don’t know, man, I just wanted to be different. Besides, it’s easy if you think for yourself. Guitars these days are just noise. There’s no melodies. They ain’t saying anything.”
Surprising, the name Bo Diddley and his nickname, “The Originator,” didn’t come from the music business, but from his childhood growing up on the south side of Chicago. He was born Ellas McDaniel in Mississippi and as a young boy moved to Chicago, where friends bestowed him with both names, for reasons he can’t remember.
“They just stuck with me,” said Diddley, who in conversation referred to himself as Ellas.
And yes, he said fans still link him to another Bo, former multi-sport pro athlete Bo Jackson, thanks to the Nike commercial they filmed together in 1989. He made it to the big screen as well, having cameo roles in a few films, such as “Trading Places” with Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd.
Diddley collects cars, mostly older models that allow him to tinker with the engines and possibly modify the bodies. If his music career hadn’t thrived, cars or carpentry likely would have been how Diddley would have earned a living.
He talked passionately about his favorite vehicle, a 1977 Mercury, dubbed “The Cucumber” for its green paint.
“I drove that thing until the floorboards fell out. Cars like that one were durable and you could make them look the way you want. You could chop the top and do anything with the engine,” Diddley said. “These days, you have to hook up a machine to these cars and they tell you where it hurts.”
Even indoors, Diddley wore his familiar black hat, remarking that he took his eagle design to a Las Vegas buckle maker to make the pin.
“It was something that just looked good on the hat,” Diddley said. “It is like my music. It gave me a trademark.”
But he says his music also is a trademark. And he summed up his musical philosophy when parting company.
“Rock on.”
