Leiber and Stoller signing autobiography

I haven't updated the blog recently since I've 1) been working hard on draft No. 5 of a new novel, Surf Music Rules (excerpts coming soon on the Playlist) and 2) all of us here at Coral Press have been working hard upgrading the website.

But ... a great night a few weeks back, worth posting about. Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller appeared at a nearby Barnes and Noble, and there was a large turnout to meet them and get copies of their autobiography, Hound Dog, signed. The two songwriters (Hound Dog, of course, plus most of the Coasters' hits, a number of other strong Elvis tunes, even Peggy Lee's devastating Is That All There Is) told funny, sneaky, charming stories and answered questions for more than an hour—and then the long line to get books signed snaked its way through the bookstore's reading room.

The reason to talk about Leiber and Stoller in the Coral Press blog is that, as much as any other songwriters, they've incorporated stories into their songs—indeed, many of the songs could be short stories or playlets (and, no surprise, the theatrical revue comprised of their songs, Smokey Joe's Cafe, was the longest running musical revue in Broadway history—though, ironically, it had no overall story).

Think of the great Coasters’ hit Yakkety-Yak (the Leiber-Stoller song that became the title of their Big Band LP, with the picture of the derby-topped songwriters gamboling with an actual yak). The way the song came about, according to Hound Dog: Jerry was boiling water in the kitchen while Mike was banging out piano chords. Jerry heard a particular rhythm, presumably looked down, saw a trash barrel, and shouted out, “Take out the papers and the trash!” Like that, Mike cried, “Or you don’t get no spending cash!” Ten minutes later the song was born.

What’s impressive here, apart from the speed of composition and the way they seemed to read each others’ minds, is how from the very start character and plot are created: the kid homebound at summer, getting grief from his parents, kept from doing what he wants to do (rock and rolling with his hoodlum friends)—essentially, how the situation is immediately a proposition, an exchange, a drama over who has power and control. All this in less than three glorious minutes of wax time.

And you see it! Joseph Conrad tells us in fiction above all: Make us see! Leiber and Stoller immediately put us in that household (we see the papers, the trash), burdened with our own tasks, listening to that voice (close to Peanuts’ TV adults squawking godlike off-camera?) control our lives, setting up blocks to our pleasure, always making deals, always trying to steal our rock and roll joy.

Genius.