Chuck Berry Albums (18)
What The Critics Say
After a long, long run at the label, Chuck Berry left Chess Records after 1975's Chuck Berry '75 and wound up on Atco, where he released what stands as his last studio album (at least as of this writing), Rock It in 1979. There are two concessions to the modern age: the production is a bit bright and tight, particularly in the rhythm section, and the artwork bizarrely (and somewhat appealingly) rides the post-Star Wars wave as it features Chuck's signature Gibson orbiting the Earth (which also nicely plays into the pun of the title, a pun so slight that it's possible to not realize it's a pun without the artwork). Minus these, Rock It is a classic Chuck Berry album, resting heavily on his chugging, clever rock & rollers balanced by a few slow blues. A familiar formula it might be, but it still packed a punch, even if it wasn't as powerful as it used to be. That diminished power is almost entirely due to the slightly canned rhythms and production, which make the overall sound of Rock It just a little bit too stiff, but that's somewhat redeemed by Johnny Johnston's piano, sounding every bit as enthusiastic as it did in Chuck's Chess heyday, and Berry himself, who tosses off these songs with a nonchalant charm. And, of course, there's the fact that Berry could still write a hell of a rock & roll song. Of these ten songs, he revives only two older songs: the Caribbean ballad "Havana Moon," here given a campy arrangement that renders it the worst cut by far here, and "It Wasn't Me" is turned into "Wuden't Me" with a brand new set of lyrics, all about being on the run from racism in the South. As impressive as this new "Wuden't Me" is -- and it is; it's barbed, cynical, clever, and funny -- it's overshadowed by several new songs that may not be major but they are satisfying, including the West Coast valentine "California," the lively love tune "If I Were," the car song "Move It," and, best of all, "Oh What a Thrill," an infectious, exuberant rocker that could have been released as a sequel to "You Never Can Tell." It's a great song crying out for a truly great treatment -- which it got a year later when Rockpile covered it on their Seconds of Pleasure album, making it sound like a lost classic instead of a new Chuck Berry tune thanks to their loose-limbed playing. While Chuck could have used some of that looseness here on Rock It, the preciseness of the production doesn't ruin the record; it merely dampens the impact of the performances -- and by doing so, it makes it harder to hear the songs that are still very good. So, Rock It is neither a grand final statement or a neglected gem: it is merely another good Chuck Berry record, graced with three or four terrific songs and a bunch of enjoyable straight-ahead rockers that aren't quite as memorable but sure sound good as they play -- and in that sense, even if this is not a great record, it is a fitting final record since it stays true to the strengths and weaknesses of Chuck's albums since the very beginning. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Chuck Berry's 15th new studio album and his follow-up to The London Chuck Berry Sessions demonstrated the fluke nature of its predecessor by missing the charts. Berry told his autobiography in song in the title track and on the brief LP's other six tracks recycled his familiar themes and riffs. The result is an adequate, but inessential collection. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
'The London Chuck Berry Sessions'
Release Date 1/1/1972
Tracks 8
Label Chess
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
One-half of this album is a studio recording featuring Ian McLagan and Kenny Jones of the Faces. The other half is a live recording from the Lancaster Arts Festival in Coventry, England, featuring performances of "My Ding-a-Ling" and "Reelin' and Rockin'" that, in edited form, became the first hit singles for Chuck Berry in many years. ("My Ding-a-Ling" went gold and hit #1.) This gold-selling, Top Ten album represents Berry's commercial, if not artistic, peak. ~ William Ruhlmann, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Chuck Berry's second record for Chess following his return to the label in 1970 is a sincere effort at sounding contemporary that yields mixed results. Parts of it, such as "Oh Louisiana," are moodier, more meandering pieces than one is used to from him, and "Bordeaux in My Pirough" is a not too skillful rewrite of "Jambalaya." Others, such as "Your Lick" and "Festival," are attempts at adapting his classic sound to the tastes and sensibilities of the late '60s/early '70s -- the latter track, the title cut, "Viva Rock & Roll," and "Lonely School Days" are all respectable efforts, if not nearly enough to hang an album around, and none would be out of place on an appropriate anthology covering Berry's post-1965 career. "My Dream (Poem)" shows Berry getting serious (and playing the piano for a change) and presenting a side of himself that is usually masked by his prodigious musical cleverness. For all of its good points, however, too much of San Francisco Dues just isn't that interesting as music, a charge that could never have been leveled at even the poorest of Berry's late-'50s work. Ironically, it was his next album, The London Chuck Berry Sessions, that would recharge his commercial batteries, principally by going back to the roots he was drawing on only furtively here. As with most of Berry's catalog from this period, this album has never appeared on CD. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Back in Chicago and on Chess, Berry comes back true-to-form, reconstituting his 1950's sound. Berry keeps his reputation for shaping the English language his own way, only in a late 1960's setting. "Tulane" and "Have Mercy Judge" are the two best known songs, but there's not a bad track here, even if none of it is what he's known for. Unfortunately, Berry found the new, more business-like Chess Records--with Leonard Chess no longer running things--less to his liking than the old, and it began to show in some of the recordings, which were simply less inspired than his old work. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Berry's last record for Mercury was a successful attempt to merge blues, rock 'n roll, and psychedelia. He does four blues numbers--opening with an Elmore James riff--that work well despite some distracting trick effects in the stereo mix. The title track (which is incorrectly indexed on the CD) is an extraordinary 18-minute workout in which Berry rocks and rolls through just about every guitar lick he knows, backed by organ, bass, and drums (there are no credits to be found on the record, alas), and it is a treat for any fan of his playing, even if it is a little excessive--he manages to beat Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead at their own game, and also embraces an utterly unexpected funk sound similar to Booker T. and the M.G.'s. Nothing here is as memorable or definitive as his early hits, but the album works well on its own terms, and is superior to such Chess psychedelic releases as Howlin' Wolf's New Album and Muddy Waters' Electric Mud and After The Rain. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
'Chuck Berry in Memphis'
Release Date 1/1/1967
Tracks 12
Label Mercury
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Chuck Berry in Memphis was the artist's first effort to record an album of new material under his contract with Mercury Records -- it followed a blatant cash-in attempt, Golden Hits, on which Berry had cut new versions of his classic Chess Records hits. Recorded over a three-day period in Memphis in March of 1967, the record features Berry mixing blues and pop with rock & roll. None of it is bad, though his version of the Nat King Cole hit "Ramblin' Rose" raised a few eyebrows. Much more encouraging were the bluesy "It Hurts Me Too" and "Back to Memphis," and the recut "Sweet Little Rock and Roller." The main problem with the record, however, was that it was too slick-sounding, especially when compared to Berry's classic Chess Records sides -- backed by the Memphis Horns and a contingent of the city's top session musicians, the resulting sides also lacked the inherent "dirtiness" of those earlier sides, as well as a measure of excitement. Still, it's not a bad album, and shows that as late as 1967, Berry was still serious about making records. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
'From St. Louie to Frisco'
Release Date 1/1/1967
Tracks 23
Label Mercury
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Chuck Berry's next-to-last of five LPs released during his stay at Mercury Records is only partly successful, with a handful of genuinely good songs -- the rocking "Misery," the rollicking "Mum's the Word," and the ravishing "Song of My Love" (maybe the prettiest Spanish, or in this case, Mexican-style number that Berry ever cut) -- interspersed with some far-less-well thought out and executed pieces, such as "The Love I Lost." The album also bore a funny pop culture footnote for years after its release, for containing Berry's first official release of "My Tambourine," a dirty New Orleans-spawned song about what used to be politely called "self-indulgence" that had been in his concert repertory for at least 12 years, which he eventually redid and released, as part of a live concert recording, as "My Ding-A-Ling." The latter accounts for the fact that this album, alone among these late Mercury releases of his, got a fresh reissue with a new catalog number in 1972. (Note: Ironically, Berry had also done the song on his earlier live album from the Fillmore West, but it was left off of the original LP release and only turned up as a bonus track when that album was issued on CD in 1990). ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
'Live at the Fillmore Auditorium'
Release Date 1/1/1967
Tracks 10
Label Mercury
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
During June of 1967, while the Sgt. Pepper's album was redefining the meaning of rock music in peoples' minds, Berry was playing a series of gigs in San Francisco with the Steve Miller Band, highlights of which appeared on this album released the following October. As a live album and a historical document, this is a worthwhile recording, because Berry's shows were still exciting. One of the few '50s rockers to continue to work regularly and effectively in the late 1960's, Berry shows here the strategy that he used to survive before the nostalgia boom took him up and turned him into an oldies act -- he became a bluesman again, and played relatively little of his classic rock 'n roll. But that was okay, because Berry started out as a bluesman -- the slow blues "Wee Wee Hours," not the rolicking "Maybelline," which was done as a parody, represented his "real" music in 1955. Among the standards represented here are Pete Chatman's "Everyday I Have the Blues," Willie Dixon's "Hoochie Coochie Man," Chuck Willis's "C.C. Rider" (done as a slow blues), and a variation on John Lee "Sonny Boy" Williamson's "Good Morning Little Schoolgirl." He plays a few familiar rockers, including a relatively uncensored "Reelin' and Rockin'" and "My Ding-a-Ling" (in a version far shorter than the subsequent hit off of the London Sessions album). ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
This album puts the lie to the popular myth that Chuck Berry's music started to fade away around the same time that the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, et al. emerged covering his stuff. His songwriting is as strong here as ever -- side one is packed with now-familiar fare like "Little Marie" (a sequel to "Memphis, Tennessee"), "No Particular Place to Go," "Promised Land," and "You Never Can Tell," but even filler tracks like "Our Little Rendezvous" and "You Two" are among Berry's better album numbers, the latter showing off the slightly softer pop/R&B side to his music that many listeners forget about. Side two includes a bunch of tracks, including the hard-rocking "Go Bobby Soxer" and the even better "Brenda Lee," the slow blues "Things I Used to Do" (with a killer guitar break), and the instrumentals "Liverpool Drive" and "Night Beat," one fast and the other slow, that never get reissued or compiled anywhere. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
