Classic Rock Musings, Rants & Raves

On Monday, I had the pleasure of seeing a small, ambitious play at the Cat Club in Hollywood called Be Bop A Lula, a tale that revolves around 1950s rock legends Gene Vincent and Eddie Cochran. Not exactly the Kodak Theatre, the Cat Club is narrow, dingy and owned by Slim Jim Phantom, the drummer for the Stray Cats. It’s situated along the row of shops between the Whisky A Go Go and the Roxy Theatre. Yeah, the place is pure rock and roll — a rather appropriate locale when you consider the storyline of the play.

If you’re unfamiliar with the life and times of Gene Vincent and Eddie Cochran, I’ll give you the abridged version. Both had major, influential rock hits in the mid 1950s — Cochran with “Summertime Blues” and Vincent with “Be Bop A Lula.” By 1960, both had peaked in America, so they toured together in England, where their style of rock and roll was embraced by the likes of John Lennon and Paul McCartney.

On the night of April 17, 1960, Cochran, his girlfriend Sharon Sheeley and Vincent were riding in a taxi cab, en route to London’s Heathrow Airport, when it crashed into a lamp post. Vincent and Sheeley were injured, but survived. Cochran wasn’t so lucky — he died at the age of 21. This is where the plot thickens, so to speak. Three weeks prior, Cochran and Vincent were on tour and had spent the night at a hotel in a small English village. That evening’s full turn of events is up for speculation, but the manager of the hotel claims he was rustled from his bed in the middle of the night by a frantic knocking on his door. When he rushed to see who it was, he found Eddie Cochran crying and claiming he was going to die.

On the small stage of the Cat Club, two beds function as the essential makings of the room Vincent and Cochran shared that night (if, in fact, they shared a room at all). A guitarist and keyboardist hide in the shadows, awaiting their cues, which are subtle, but necessary to the pace. The lights dim, and the 50 or so patrons squeezed into the tiny room fall mute. Rex Weiner, the play’s author, breaks the silence by introducing himself and setting up the story. Then he brings up a very special guest — John Densmore, the drummer for the Doors.

It turns out Densmore has a past relationship with the Be Bop A Lula play which he, along with other luminaries including Adam Ant, produced at another Hollywood venue back in the 90s. He speaks softly and mentions that the Cat Club was where the Doors played many of their early gigs. It was the London Fog back then, according to Densmore. Although I’d read the coffee shop next door was where the London Fog was, I wasn’t about to argue with a guy who was there. It makes more sense anyway.

Densmore talks about a time in L.A. when Jerry Lee Lewis opened for the Doors. It’s great to hear guys from the 60s speak with such reverence about guys from the 50s — back when rock and roll was actually invented. There’s no doubt in my mind that Lewis, along with Cochran, Vincent, Chuck Berry, Little Richard and a couple of others, are the true architects of early rock.

The play begins in the midst of the darkened club as Chancellor Dean as Eddie Cochran and Aaron Dupree as Gene Vincent snake their way to the stage, immediately engaged in dialogue. At the story’s heart are two complex characters, young, in their early twenties, yet already past their prime. Dupree convincingly lives up to Vincent’s image as a rough, reckless, self-deprecating prankster in chronic pain with a bad limp and resigned to his status as a has-been. Dean’s Cochran is the more likeable of the two, playing a talented, homesick musician who wants to quit the road, marry his girlfriend and raise a family.

The two trade barbs, laugh and cuss up a storm until a couple of English girls — Alice and Martha played by Zoe Simpson and Nicole Nelson, respectively — knock on the door. Cochran lets his guard down at one point, making a play for Alice before things get dark and introspective. That’s when Buddy Holly, played by Ron Geren, emerges and spoils the party.

I don’t want to spoil the party, so I’ll leave it at that. But I will say that this is a fascinating play, and anyone who digs the twisted, demented history of rock and roll should go and see it. The current production of Be Bop A Lula — with subsequent performances scheduled at the Cat Club on September 15, 22, and 29 — is directed by Weiner and Polly Shannon, and produced by Lincoln Phipps and Chris Kobin. For tickets and additional information, head over to the Be Bop A Lula My Space page.