I never liked Elvis because I was misguided into believing that he was credited with making traditionally known “black‰” music popular to a wider range of audience. I used to believe that he stole something that did not belong to him and then catapulted himself to be forever immortalized into the American consciousness as the “King of Rock n‰’ Roll‰Û.

Although there still and should forever be a discussion about the “gentrification‰” of rock n‰’ roll and blues music, I can say now that Elvis did not necessarily steal from the likes of B.B. King and Chuck Berry, but rather paid homage to their talents. The commercialization of rock and blues music has inspired artists like Keith Richards, John Lennon, and David Bowie. All of these men have mimicked the style of the early African-American musicians, but I want to focus on the impact Little Richard had on David Bowie. Both men are credited with drawing distinctions between the person and the artist, often times molding their personal and private personalities around their own stage personas. Bowie and Richard rely on the emotion of funk music while their sound treads on a more pop-focused and easier to dance to. Their voices also contribute to their audible similarity.

Richard‰’s sound was revolutionary because it wasn‰’t necessarily smooth. On the contrary, it was peppy and enthusiastic. The music he sang to seemed to be an anchor for his voice, that often times seemed as though it was louder than all the instruments combined. I would even dare say that no one has made the sound of shrills sound as good as Richard has (sorry Bjork). In 1993 in an interview Bowie said, “The first artist I really sort of dug was Little Richard when I was about eight years old. I found it all very exiting – the feeling of aggression that came through the arrangements. It was like breaking up the sky – his voice broke out the skies – an extraordinary voice‰Û. Bowie‰’s voice is much more crafted and commercial, while Richard‰’s is beautifully organic and present. Yet, Bowie, especially the song “Modern Love‰Û, which Bowie said is in honor of Little Richards, expands his boundaries by not always consistently melodically singing the lyrics, but rather doing like Little Richard and slightly and harmoniously yelling them.

Bowie‰’s admiration for Little Richard extends beyond their sound, but into their stage presence and appearance. There is something otherworldly about both men. First off, Little Richard did not look like your everyday rock n‰’ roll musician. His appearance was feminine and meticulous. His eyelashes were always perfectly curled, his thin moustache always trim, and his lips colored with lipstick. His attention to appearance is the start of the separation between artist and person, because in modern music the two are not akin to one another. He crafted a persona the same way Bowie has crafted the persona of hyper-sexualization and gender ambiguous that is drenched in allusions to Richards. Both seem intentional and therefore artistic. Also, the two men make it a point to be as dynamic on stage as possible.

As seen in any early video of Little Richard, he is a man of true showmanship. He is less concerned with perfecting his voice, and more focused on delivering an elevated performance which includes pounding keyboards, dancing, and screaming. Like Little Richard, Bowie is rarely stoic on stage. He incorporates a lot of the physical movements of early rock n‰’ roll that allude to the hypersexual nature of this particular genre. His stage presence is reminiscent of Little Richard in the sense that it is commanding and demands the audience‰’s constant attention, which thus leads to this larger-than-life stage persona.

By Michelle Merica