Even the premise of this is cool: one of the finest underground rock ’n’ roll bands on the damn planet pays homage to one of the greatest exponents of rock ’n’ roll there’s ever been.
And they do it all with Chris Spedding—who’s worked with everyone, but for the purposes of this review, produced the first Sex Pistols recordings.
So, Little Richard then. I’d have been about 15 when I got obsessed with Elvis. He opened up another world to me—a world more exciting than the one I was growing up in, amid Thatcher’s disaster of the late ’80s. But Elvis also led me to Little Richard: flamboyant, brilliant, and seemingly able to distil rock ’n’ roll in a way that few others (Keith Richards, Lemmy, take your pick) ever could.
That’s about it—except, if you’re gonna do this, you’d best capture the moment. And my God, Diamond Dogs do that almost perfectly.
Little Richard got Paul McCartney to write “I Saw Her Standing There,” gave James Brown a new haircut, and put a silly little moustache on Prince!
The fact that it starts off with “King of Rock ’n’ Roll” lays it all on the line. And if you like that one—and if you don’t, you might want to check your pulse—then there are another ten to come.
“Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey” has a bluesy, classic shuffle; the piano on “Spreading Natter What’s the Matter” takes that one to another level; and the ballad “Shake a Hand” is so full of harmony it brings to mind the likes of The Ronettes.
“Dew Drop Inn” is a beauty, with the handbrake off and some unhinged drumming injecting real energy into things—and here more than anywhere, you can sense how much they’re all enjoying this.
“True Fine Mama” is call-and-response with a classic vibe, while “Great Gosh A’Mighty”—a cut from a 1980s album—underlines how this deliberately avoids just the obvious hits in favour of something more interesting.
“Poor Dog” (back to the 1960s for this one) is turned into a Creedence song in these hands, and Sulo sounds as raw as he ever has.
The slower ones were always important to Little Richard, and “Send Me Some Lovin’” proves it here, but “Slippin’ and Slidin’” belongs in a Prohibition-era juke joint and is proud of itself—and that’s before “Bama Lama Bama Loo” bottles the essence of not just Little Richard, but of rock ’n’ roll itself.
That’s it. On May 9th, 2020, we lost a genius. And while his music lives on in myriad ways, “Macon Georgia Giant” is more than a tribute—it’s glorious.
Rating: 9/10
