rick derringer

Rick Derringer’s an interesting cat and a helluva guitar player.  He got his start as a teenager with the McCoys, who had a Number One hit with the great Hang on Sloopy in 1965. But he didn’t really become known for his axe wielding prowess until his stint with the Johnny Winter Band. I owned Johnny Winter Live when I was a kid, and even then I could tell there was something special about Winter’s chemistry with Derringer… But forget all this stuff, and let’s face it:  Derringer will be always be remembered most for Rock and Roll Hoochie Coo, a perfect slab of debauched cock rock boogie. It’s the musical equivalent of a pair of Russ Meyer-style Double Ds bouncing up and down. And who among us hasn’t pondered the question, what exactly is this "hoochie coo" of which he sings?  After much reflection over the years, I’ve concluded that the term refers not so much to sex appeal in a general sense, but more specifically to the intoxicating power of pussy.  Lordy mama, light my fuse. The song is, in short, most certainly rendered from the vantage point of a generically straight teenage boy.  And that’s ok. There’s a tendency nowadays to heap contempt on this target audience, but having been one myself, I pity the poor 16-yr-old dude with a perpetual hardon... When Rock and Roll Hoochie Coo comes on the car radio or pops up on my iPod these days, I think of huge muscle cars queued up in long gas lines. I think of eight-track tapes, and girls wearing halter tops and homemade cutoff short shorts. I think of Hall and Oates and that horribly sad line about the toothbrush hanging in the stand. I think of Squeaky Fromme, and Gerald Ford, and being a pin pal on Bowling for Dollars. I remember when a new playground opened at 85^th street and 5^th Avenue, replete with a basketball hoop that had a net made out of steel.  Did that thing have razor blades on it?  I recall how badly I wanted a denim leisure suit so I could look like I was in the Osmonds. My mom refused to let me have one, which is probably for the best.  None of my memories from that period of my life gel into anything like a coherent narrative. They’re just fragments, small shards of broken glass from what feels like another lifetime. I will say that I feel lucky to have gotten at least a little taste of the 70s, even if I was too young to really appreciate them. Often adults don’t even appreciate the moment at hand until it’s no longer at hand…  Back to Rick Derringer.  There are a number of things I love about the clip I’ve posted here, but three stand out: (1) Derringer is pretty darn short. I’m a little person myself and I feel a special kinship with others of my kind. It’d be fun to stand in a police lineup with Rick Derringer, Ronnie James Dio, and Neil Schon… (2)  Check out the way Derringer switches to the neck pickup on his guitar at about 2:12.  The neck pickup is what you go to when you want things to sound tasty. (3) He’s having such a good time.  And why not?  It’s 1973, after all, and anything goes…