First it was Loretta Lynn. Now Jack White is bringing out singer Wanda Jackson for another bow. The rockabilly queen has a new album out, The Party Ain’t Over—which was produced by White and released this week on his Third Man label. And the record is actually quite good, a hillbilly hootenanny of country, rockabilly and gospel, energized by Jackson’s signature voice and matchless spirit. She’s still got it, all right. (Check out an interview with Jackson and listen to the album at NPR).
I interviewed Jackson nine years ago in advance of a Seattle appearance at the Tractor Tavern. It was indeed a career highlight for me. We talked by phone for about 45 minutes. She was awesome, and I was pretty pleased with the resulting story I wrote for the Seattle Post-Intelligencer (though I might have gotten her age wrong). So in celebration of her return to the fore, I give you my short feature on Wanda Jackson.
March 15, 2002
Club Beat: Jackson Still Blazing a Rockabilly Trail
By JOE EHRBAR
SPECIAL TO THE POST-INTELLIGENCER
In his book The Unsung Heroes of Rock 'n' Roll, author Nick Tosches declares rockabilly queen Wanda Jackson to be "simply and without contest, the greatest menstruating rock 'n' roll singer whom the world has ever known."
No truer words have been put so eloquently, if crassly. Jackson is a rock pioneer. She is living, screaming, guitar-strumming history who turned country on its head and broke new ground in the 1950s with a feisty growl and signature songs like "Fujiyama Mama," "Hot Dog! That Made Him Mad," "Mean Mean Man" and "Let's Have a Party." The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame may snub her, but the historical and cultural weight of her music cannot be denied.
At 62, Jackson is still at it, performing with a vigor and abandon that betray her age. Whether preaching to the faithful in concert halls in Sweden or reaching out to young converts in American clubs such as Seattle's Tractor Tavern, where she's set to appear on Wednesday along with the Donettes (9 p.m.; $12), Jackson is all too eager to share the raunchy gospel of rockabilly.
Jackson exudes just as much enthusiasm when telling her story. Speaking to the Seattle Post-Intelligencer by phone last week, Jackson recounted what it was like to be a teen star, to work with Elvis Presley, to pave the way for rock 'n' roll as a woman before later being paved over, to be rediscovered in Europe and finally recognized in her own country.
"It's been a heady trip for this old lady," summed up Jackson with a chuckle.
Jackson's trip began in Oklahoma City in the 1950s. Just in high school, she was discovered on a radio show by country star Hank Thompson, who got her signed to Decca Records. Jackson soon charted her first hit, in 1954, a duet with Thompson's bandleader, Billy Gray, titled "You Can't Have My Love." Upon graduation, the budding star, chaperoned by her father, piled into the family car and motored onto the concert trail, never to look back.
Jackson logged thousands of miles with her father in those early days, performing on one multiact caravan after another. While it was exciting, her life was anything but glamorous. "It was harder in those days when you' re just starting out," Jackson said. "We had to travel by car mostly. I didn't make enough money to fly.
"I used to have to put on my stage clothes in service station restrooms," she continued. "Some of them were so bad, I'd have to stand up on the toilet stool lids."
It was on one of those tours that Jackson met Presley, himself a newcomer, recording rockabilly songs for tiny Sun Records. The two became friends, and later dated. "Elvis was always an exciting person to be around. He had charisma. I always looked forward to working with him. We dated when we could on the road. He asked me to be his girl and wear his ring, and I did."
Jackson's relationship with Presley marked a turning point in her career. At Presley's urging, Wanda went rockabilly. "My dad and Elvis just lit in on me that I needed to be doing this music," she said. "Elvis kept saying it was gonna be the next big thing. I could tell that by working with him, with all the girls screaming."
"It took me a while to get the nerve to do it," said Jackson, "but I found some songs." She also found her voice, well described by Tosches as "a wild fluttering thing of sexy subtleties and sudden harshness, feral feline purrings and raving banshee shriekings." In 1956, Jackson and her wicked set of pipes helped usher in rock's golden age by cooking up a spicy number called "Hot Dog! That Made Him Mad." "Fujiyama Mama" and "Mean, Mean Man" followed in 1957 and 1958.
As groundbreaking as they were, these bombshells fell on deaf ears. "I couldn't get any airplay," Jackson said. "No one seemed to recognize what I was doing. America wasn't ready for a girl hollering, singing this raunchy, soulful and exciting music." Ironically, Japan was. "Fujiyama Mama" went No. 1 there in 1958, despite its politically incorrect lyrics: "I been to Nagasaki/Hiroshima too/The things I did to them, baby/I can do to you."
Jackson's big moment in the States came in 1960, when "Let's Have a Party" screamed up the charts with all the unbridled glee of a party blower on New Year's Eve. Its successors "Right or Wrong" and "Riot on Cell Block #9" kept up the front, though by this point, Jackson had all but abandoned rockabilly. "I gave it a run, and then had to kind of back down into country to get airplay and keep my name out there so that I could work."
Jackson rode out the 1960s as a commercially successful country singer. But when she felt a tug to do gospel music after converting to Christianity, her label, Capitol, wouldn't hear of it, so ending their relationship and Jackson's days on the charts.
Then in the 1985, spurred on by a rockabilly revival in Europe, Jackson made a comeback and started touring and recording again. America, late to the party as ever, rediscovered Jackson in the mid-1990s as the rise of insurgent country and reissues of her work (such as Capitol's 1996 anthology Vintage Collections) increased awareness of the singer. Jackson has since been in hot demand and she spends many of her days as she did when she was just starting out — on the road. This time, however, she's usually flying first class.
"I'm always coming and going," Jackson said. "That's my life and I love it. It's the only life I know. It has probably taken its toll. I tell people, 'When you look at me, just remember, maybe it's not the age but the mileage.'"
