Copy of booklet:
He was born Ray Edward “Eddie” Cochrane (with an “e”) on October 3, 1938 (d. April 17, 1960) in Albert Lea, Minnesota, a prosperous small farming community in the north of rural America whose population stifled in the summer and froze in winter. Eddie’s parents were from Oklahoma City, where his father Frank worked in a factory. The economic crisis of the Thirties obliged them to move north where, fortunately, Frank had found work in a household. The dramatic recession was worsened by repeated droughts, storms and plagues of insects, causing ruined families to swarm either north or west to California. Frank Cochrane was lucky to find work as a cleaner, and he and his wife Alice raised Gloria, Bill, Bob, Patty and Eddie, by six years the youngest addition to the family. His elder brother Bill had a Kay guitar and then a model made by Martin, but Eddie didn’t touch it often; he wanted to play drums at first, and then trombone. His other brother Bob took a serious interest in music and would later compose Hammy Blues with Eddie, together with the classics Three Steps to Heaven and Somethin’ Else.

Frank became a mechanic in 1946. His uprooted family was still very fond of Oklahoma and, like fellow major Minnesota musicians Bob Dylan and Prince (whose four grandparents came from Louisiana), Eddie had musical roots deep in the South. He was thirteen in 1951 when the Cochrane family moved to Los Angeles where Bill had already settled, but Eddie always took pride in their identity as Okies even though he’d never set foot in Oklahoma. He’d even sing about it in June 1959 in Boll Weevil, a traditional song named after the beetle which devastated southern cotton-plantations before the war: “Well if anybody should ask you / Who it was that sang this song / Say a guitar picker from Oklahoma City / With a pair of blue jeans on / Just looking for a home.”

The term boll weevil was also used to designate southern Democrats who had right-wing views (particularly concerning segregation). To those with little taste for such racist opinions, that kind of boll weevil was nothing more than pestilential, a widespread disease: they were traitors to the moderates’ cause. Such extremist views led more than one boll weevil to join the Republican Party led by President Eisenhower, the conservative General who remained in power throughout Eddie’s career (from 1953 to 1961, with Richard Nixon as his Vice President); Eddie was determined to succeed, and sang that he’d never be a Cotton Picker.

STROLLIN’ GUITAR
In 1951 Frank Cochrane found work at a missile plant in Los Angeles. By the time Eddie was thirteen he already had a passion for the acoustic guitar, and was seemingly never without it. Separated from his friends by the family’s sudden move to 5539 Priory Street in the modest neighbourhood of Bell Gardens, Eddie considered his guitar his new best friend. At 15 he went to Bell Gardens Junior High School in East Los Angeles and met Conrad “Connie” Smith, who played the double bass in the school orchestra. Connie also played steel guitar and mandolin, and his new buddy shared his passion. At the end of 1953 they formed a trio — Connie on bass, a school-friend on lead guitar, plus Eddie on rhythm — and rehearsed in a back-room at Bell Garden Music Centre, a music-store whose owner Bert Keither encouraged teenagers and saw Eddie’s gifts. He found their first gigs for them (school dances, supermarket-openings, etc., all of them precious experiences) and Eddie spent the next year playing in his neighbourhood, where rhythm & blues and country music was a stronghold; he spent a lot of time with local musicians, absorbing influences and already dreaming of turning professional. He tried to master Chet Atkins’ difficult finger-picking technique (as did Elvis’ guitarist Scotty Moore, and literally every other country guitarist), and here you can listen to a picking demonstration on Country Jam, an instrumental in the very special bluegrass style. Eddie’s hands were small and delicate and could cover a large part of the fret board; he learned difficult country parts by Joe Maphis2 and techniques including the use of a thumbpick, as well as flat picks and several fingers (with or without a pick), assimilating the jazz played by Johnny Smith, Jimmy Wyble. People who knew him confirm he was curious, open, smart, and a quick learner. His adaptation of “The Third Man Theme” by Austrian composer Anton Karas became the Fourth Man Theme which shows how varied his tastes were. Other examples of Eddie’s eclecticism appear here, with influences ranging from bluegrass and country to blues and rock. Rock guitar-instrumentals had been in fashion since Earl Hooker’s “The Hucklebuck” (1953) and Bill Doggett’s “Honky Tonk” in 1956; influenced by Duane Eddy’s hit “Rebel Rouser” in 1958 and his new “twang” style played on a Gretsch guitar, Cochran investigates this instrumental vein at the end of CD3, notably on Strollin’ Guitar, which is characteristic of this quite separate genre.3

THE COCHRAN BROTHERS
In October 1954 Eddie was introduced to Hank Cochran, an orphan and local boy who’d been through hard times and had turned semi-professional; Hank quickly asked Eddie to play with him, taking solos and singing back-up. Duos featuring brothers weren’t unusual in country music (the McGee or Stanley Brothers, the Monroes, and soon the Everly Brothers…); Hank and Eddie almost had the same surname and decided they’d be the Cochran Brothers. In January 1955, aged exactly sixteen years and four months, Eddie quit school for good and went on the road. Hank was a determined singer/rhythm guitarist and after a few rehearsals they toured California, finding gigs even though Eddie wasn’t old enough to play in places where alcohol was sold. That same year, Eddie acquired a Gretsch 6120, the firm’s new hollow-body electric guitar. It cost him $385 at the Bell Garden Music Centre, and was equipped with a Bigsby tremolo arm which enabled him to play some new effects (cf. Eddie’s Blues and its highly original style); until then, the sound had been the preserve of Chet Atkins, another Gretsch adept. Eddie modified his guitar, swapping its bass pick-up for a Gibson P-90.

The Bell Gardens Music Centre was one of the local musicians’ favourite haunts and it was there that Bert Keither introduced Eddie to Jerry Capehart. Jerry was a farmer’s son (a man ruined in the Thirties who’d immigrated to California in a Ford Model T), and he loved country music; he played violin in a semi-professional group, and had been mobilised during the Korean War. Too poor to realize his ambition to be an attorney, Jerry had been working a night-shift at an aircraft-plant since 1953; he wrote songs, but his voice wasn’t good enough and he’d been looking for musicians who could sing and record his compositions. The Cochran Brothers agreed to play a few of them and record a demo.

In April ‘55 the two “brothers” were hired by Steve Stebbins of the American Music Corporation, California’s principal country music agency (working also for Merle Travis, Tennessee Ernie Ford etc), and Stebbins totally changed their career. He got to work on their promotion and they were invited to appear on Home Town Jamboree, the TV show hosted by his associate Cliffie Stone, and on the popular radio show Town Hall Party. They were also introduced to Red Matthews at the independent record-label Ekko. Marked by Hank Williams’ plaintive style, their first recordings open this album: Mr. Fiddle and Two Blue Singing Stars (a tribute to Jimmie Rodgers and Hank Williams) feature Eddie’s voice and some very country-sounding guitar. Their first single was released that summer, leading to a concert at the Big D Jamboree in Dallas aired by KLRD, the popular local station.

They had been preceded only a few days earlier by Elvis Presley, whose new style mixing country and rhythm & blues had left a deep impression on audiences used to a more “grandfatherly” kind of music: Elvis was more than a singer, a Phenomenon, with all the accompanying screams and faints and security people — they couldn’t cope — which one associates with it, plus music that was fresh and exciting and in total contrast with conventional country music. The Cochran Brothers suddenly realized how popular rockabilly was: a new rock style which added country-rooted guitar to African-American rhythm and blues. Until then, white audiences didn’t know much about rock. Hank and Eddie were poor, and life was difficult on the road: they once had to hitch a ride home after a trip to Memphis to see Exxo’s offices. Back in LA they accompanied Jerry Capehart on an (average) 45rpm single recorded with black musicians (produced by John Dolphin for Cash Records), and then in January 1956 they toured the West Coast, moving up as far as the state of Washington. In California they were regular guests on KORV TV, and also accompanied Jack Wayne, a DJ at KVSM radio who copied Johnny Cash, other country artists... Their records were failures but their TV appearances saw their popularity grow, and Jerry Capehart, who was more and more active, sang on stage with them in March. He also set up other sessions for them to accompany hillbilly artists he introduced to Dolphin, and he became the de facto manager of the Cochran Brothers. Capehart had good contacts with their agency American Music, a major firm which had created Crest Records as an outlet for the numerous talents they sent out on the road; and American Music didn’t neglect to publish their songs in exchange for a substantial share of their royalties. Even so, bound to the cause of “grandpa’s” country music by a catalogue filled with hillbilly classics (Merle Travis, Roy Rogers, Delmore Brothers, etc.), American Music found itself increasingly trailing behind the innovations in rock, which was now taking off and finding a mass audience.

ROCKABILLY
In 1956, after eighteen months of Elvis hits for the little Sun label, RCA Records bought Presley and gave him a massive boost. The instantaneous success of his first 45rpm single for RCA, “Heartbreak Hotel”, sent shock waves through the record-industry in January 1956.4 For several months, this white artist had been successfully singing rock songs, a style hitherto reserved for Afro-Americans. And a number of those songs had been composed by black and mixed-race writers. Elvis’ original producer Sam Phillips had paired him with Scotty Moore, a guitarist who played in the hillbilly style that was an emblem of southern Whites, and the resulting mixture of rhythm and blues and hillbilly was a new rock ‘n’ roll style they called rockabilly. Like Eddie, Scotty Moore was very influenced by Chet Atkins5 and this gave a “white” colour to reprises like Milk Cow Blues written by Kokomo Arnold (the Eddie Cochran version here was inspired by Elvis’ cover). Elvis Presley’s success was out of all proportion, and it brought rock to a white audience en masse. Exciting, liberating and urging people to dance freely, rock had long found favour with black audiences in forms known as jump blues, rock ‘n’ roll, rhythm and blues… all of them terms with racial connotations. And in an America where racial segregation had been institutionalized for centuries, by 1955 Afro-American artists like Ray Charles6, Bo Diddley7, Little Richard8 and Chuck Berry9 were beginning to break through, despite their colour, to reach white audiences. Rock ‘n’ roll disturbed conservative America but it was played by little groups who were easy to transport, and it hit the jackpot. Tried and trusted Afro-American tunes were often unknown to white audiences, and new versions by white artists were guaranteed to sell. RCA’s competitors, naturally, actively sought out white artists capable of rivalling the Presley phenomenon, as confirmed by the success of the pioneering Bill Haley10 and his Comets with their “anthem” entitled “Rock Around the Clock”. It came at exactly the same time when Jerry Capehart was placing one of his songs with Jack Lewis, whose records were financed by two scouts for Crest Records, Ray Stanley and Dale Fitzsimmons. The version by Jack Lewis had no success at all, but Capehart’s composition had been taken from the convincing demo recorded by the Cochran Brothers… and the two scouts from Crest were quick to see that Eddie was worth his weight in gold. They set up a recording-session for the Cochran Brothers so that Eddie could try his luck with a microphone all to himself.

Aged seventeen, Eddie made his first record under the “Cochran Brothers” name, and it was a flashing rockabilly masterpiece; he sang it alone, accompanying himself on the guitar, with backing from his friend Connie on double bass and a distant percussion. Based on the same vestimentary theme as Blue Suede Shoes (the rockabilly tune by Carl Perkins which Eddie also recorded a month later), the subject of his first recording Pink-Peg Slacks is his irrepressible desire for a pair of loose (pink) trousers tapering to a tight fit around the ankles. In the song, his girlfriend asks her father to lend her the money so that he can buy himself this bottom half of a “zoot” suit… By all accounts, Eddie was a great seducer. His “inhabited” performance also shows that he was a singer of unmatched charisma.

The failure of the single Tired and Sleepy/Fool’s Paradise brought the career of the Cochran Brothers duo to an end. The dominant Jerry Capehart was ten years his elder, and he and Eddie definitively adopted the fashionable rock style, completely abandoning country music. Hank Cochran was married and not made for rock; he didn’t want to follow Capehart’s new direction. At the following session, Eddie accompanied Hank Cochran on guitar, an amiable end for the duo. Hank Cochran’s only rock record would be released under the pseudonym Bo Davis.11

1956 TWENTY FLIGHT ROCK
“Merit counts not the years for souls who are well born.”
— Pierre Corneille

In the wake of Elvis, some major singers sprang up, like Gene Vincent with “Be-Bop-A-Lula”, but Gene, like the extravagant Little Richard, was no soloist; Elvis had great charisma, a golden voice, and he was a great dancer, but he was no composer (even though he did sign a few pieces which weren’t written by him), nor was he a good guitarist. All three of them needed instrumentalists. Jerry Lee Lewis hardly ever wrote his own songs. Carl Perkins was a composer, and also played lead guitar, but even though he was the creator of Blue Suede Shoes (Eddie’s version is included here), he didn’t have the calibre of his co-religionists. As for Johnny Burnette, his trio broke up too quickly. None of those rock giants possessed the totality of Eddie Cochran’s gifts. The sweetened, commercial rock of Pat Boone, Ricky Nelson, Frankie Avalon, Fabian or Paul Anka was just around the corner; yielding to pressure from his producer, the young Eddie had already recorded several “sweeter” pieces with a vocal group reminiscent of the formula used by Elvis Presley with the Jordanaires (cf. CD2), but Eddie steered an uncompromising rock course as soon as he was allowed to do so.

So at 17 the precocious Eddie Cochran was a first-rate solo performer. He had an ambitious manager/lyricist (Jerry Capehart), a top-flight agent planning his tours, a record company, and a team of composers from American Music — among them Stanley and Fitzsimmons — who were ready to do anything for him to record their compositions in the new rockabilly style. Whatever else was said, Eddie Cochran already had everything going for him, and more trumps up his sleeve than any of his competitors. Not only was he handsome, intelligent, ambitious, elegant, charming and seductive; he was also an irresistible singer and a proficient guitarist, and to cap it all he could write a classic like Twenty Flight Rock. In this song, Cochran the singer/songwriter tells how he has to climb the stairs because the elevator is out of order, and when he gets to the 20th floor he’s so exhausted he can’t “rock” his girlfriend… but that doesn’t stop him coming back again and again. In a way, Cochran was “the white Chuck Berry”; but if you actually compare them, when Chuck recorded his first classics in 1955-56 he had the experience of a thirty-year old male adult — whereas Eddie was a mere seventeen. Buddy Holly, who also died young (Eddie sings a song in his memory here, Three Stars), cut a number of remarkable records during this period, but didn’t live long enough to reach full bloom; Eddie, on the other hand, recorded a whole series of essential titles in only three years. Like the immense singer-guitarists Bo Diddley12 and Chuck Berry, Eddie Cochran combined the originality of a great performer with first-rate compositions. Praise could he heaped on Cochran for a long time: one would have to vaunt the merits of his spontaneity, and the aesthetic simplicity of any number of major recordings without even a set of drums behind him: just Capehart tapping on an old box with his fingers.

In May 1956 the Cochran Brothers reached the peak of their modest career opening concerts for Lefty Frizzell, a country celebrity, and went on to work summer weekends in a club in Escondido, California. Eddie had an excellent reputation in the area as a guitarist and recorded for Capitol with different country artists like Wynn Stewart (“Keeper of the Keys”) or the rockabilly artist Skeets McDonald (“You Oughta See Grandma Rock”). As a stage- and studio-performer with a lot of experience, combined with gifts as a solid guitarist and singer whose range encompassed not only romantic songs but also future punk hymns, Eddie Cochran went straight to the essential, leaving country by the wayside when he chose rock. His rockabilly record Skinny Jim, released shortly afterwards in that summer of 1956, was a flop, but that didn’t discourage him. When associated with its Afro-American creators, the rock style still reeked of the devil. While Hank Cochran and other country singers were recording rockabilly under pseudonyms for fear of being excluded by a conservative country audience, Eddie would record the current Afro-American rock hits to proclaim his belonging to the movement which was so seductive to young people, releasing Long Tall Sally by Little Richard and I Almost Lost my Mind by Ivory Joe Hunter. He also cut his own version of one of the first real rockabilly hits, the brand-new Blue Suede Shoes by Carl Perkins.

Capehart took these new recordings to Liberty, the little record-label owned by Hungarian violinist Simon “Si” Waronker, who’d just had a nice little hit with Julie London (accompanied by Barney Kessel) singing “Cry Me a River”. Waronker was very conservative and had ties with Lionel Newman, the musical director at 20th Century Fox film-studios (he’d provided Fox with tapes of music for several films). With The Chipmunks and Henry Mancini on its roster, the artist-choice at Liberty was just as conservative and, as with many other companies, the stable needed a rock singer… The Presley phenomenon was upsetting every habit in the business and Capitol had just released Gene Vincent’s first single, the huge hit “Be-Bop-a-Lula”. There was no time to lose. Waronker could see all that, and he was quickly won over by the maturity, seductiveness and talent displayed by Cochran. At the same time (July ‘56), while Eddie was working on the soundtrack for a film with a small budget, producer Boris Petroff offered him a role as a singer in his next film. He asked him for songs, and one was Twenty Flight Rock, recorded almost overnight with Capehart slapping a box and Connie Smith playing slap-style bass like Bill Black did with Elvis Presley. In the song, Eddie produced a pastiche of all Presley’s mannerisms with great assurance: a rockabilly classic was born. It opened the doors to film-studios and success. The song was also one of the very first ones Paul McCartney learned, and when Lennon heard Paul sing Twenty Flight Rock to perfection at the school party (the day was July 6, 1957) he had him join his group — and The Beatles were born.13

1957: SINGIN’ TO MY BABY
After other rockabilly gems like Teenage Cutie, Eddie was just eighteen when Waronker urgently asked him to record Sittin’ in the Balcony, which had already been a success for John D. Loudermilk (under the pseudonym Johnny Dee). This sugary commercial ballad filled with charm was Eddie’s first single for Liberty, and it would sell over a million copies. Cochran didn’t like it but he never complained about its success: it went to N°18 in April 1957, four months after the release of the film The Girl Can’t Help It (Frank Tashlin, 1956) in which Eddie, in one of his rare screen performances, sang Twenty Flight Rock. Tashlin’s rock-movie classic borrowed its title from the Little Richard song14 (and you can see the latter onstage in the film). Also in the credits were Gene Vincent, The Platters15, The Treniers, Abbey Lincoln, Julie London, Fats Domino… and the star of the film, Jayne Mansfield.

Early in 1957 Eddie Cochran played a role in another film, “Untamed Youth” (its subject was young rockers in the margins of society) and then went on a concert-tour across the United States, with appearances on major radio and TV shows (like Dick Clark’s Bandstand). It was in April 1957 that he met singer Gene Vincent at the Mastbaum Theatre in Philadelphia, and the two became friends.

The success of Sittin’ in the Balcony logically led Si Waronker to produce other commercial ballads, and a glimpse of these appears on CD2. The second single, One Kiss (May 1957) was an exercise to which Eddie submitted without enthusiasm — and it was a total flop. The inseparable Jerry and Eddie jumped at their first chance to record at the little Goldstar studios, and it was there that they recorded their first album, “Singin’ to my Baby”. Waronker imposed the Johnny Mann Singers on them, and the whole album reflects the tension between the edgy, free, ultra-sober rockabilly of which Eddie was capable — cf. Am I Blue (which didn’t appear on the American album-release) or Twenty Flight Rock — and the more “poppy entertainment” sound (I’m Alone Because I Love You) of the majority of the titles (producer Simon Jackson had been recruited by Liberty, and was taking that direction). So the album wasn’t representative of Cochran’s true style; he wasn’t yet nineteen and already entangled inside the artistic leanings of a success that escaped his control. Released in the autumn of 1957 when rock was at the height of fashion, and when the sales-charts were being hammered by monster hits such as “Let’s Go to the Hop” (Danny & The Juniors) or “Keep-a-Knocking” (Little Richard), the charming single Drive-In Show wasn’t that successful, but sold enough for the DJs to remember it (and Eddie).

Eddie Cochran dressed like the sports-jocks in American colleges, and used to wear loafers, wide slacks, broad tweed jackets and a tie; they were useful equipment for a seductive “teen idol” to have, and quite different from the “bad boy” type of clothing worn by Gene Vincent. A fine Australian tour together with Gene and Little Richard took place that October. Accompanied by The Deejays, the group who backed local rock star Johnny O’Keefe, Eddie played some memorable concerts where Little Richard would start a riot with his provocative stage-act. The Aussie teenagers demolished everything including the artists’ clothes, and the press had a field day. Gene Vincent topped the bill and had his work cut out to stave off the creator of Long Tall Sally, but he’d had a year to get his own act together and he, too, created hysteria — as Elvis had been doing every day back home. Eddie Cochran had polished his stage-act also, although he wasn’t as demonstrative, and he had his own share of success, particularly with the ladies. This was the last tour by Little Richard: right in the middle of it, he quit the tour to devote himself to theology, and that made headlines, too… Eddie had barely returned to the USA before he set off on another tour with Chuck Berry, Fats Domino, Paul Anka, Buddy Holly… and it was in his dressing-room at the Paramount in New York that Phil Everly introduced him to Sharon Sheeley, his future girlfriend.

On his return to Los Angeles Eddie went back to being a studio musician, running Dot sessions for his friend Bob Bull (aka Bob Denton); three singles came out of it, plus a number of demos he recorded for Ray Stanley, most of which are lost today. A dozen of the Ray Stanley titles with Eddie on guitar were released by various labels including Crest and Argo. Apart from his other numerous talents, the young Eddie had turned into a studio professional and was capable of suggesting various arrangements, not to mention leading sessions on his own; on one of them he accompanied Lee Denson, for an obscure single on the Vik label, and also played guitar for singers Paula Morgan or Don Deal…

1958: SUMMERTIME BLUES
Poor sales moved Liberty to let Eddie direct his own sessions, beginning in January 1958. It was an unusual step for producers to take in those days — especially for a producer as conservative as Waronker. Nor was it a common opportunity for someone as young as Si Waronker’s protégé. It took a weight off Eddie’s mind and at last he could show what he could do. Unsurprisingly, Cochran and Capehart chose to record rock songs: the excellent Jeannie, Jeannie, Jeannie came very close to success, as did Pretty Girl which they recorded a few weeks later. On March 25-26 1958, at Capitol Studios, Eddie also sang bass harmony on four titles by his friend Gene Vincent.16

But rock was already set quite apart from the rest of show business. The music had a bad reputation: infested with opportunity-seeking singers who used pseudonyms, often dishonest and corrupt producers, careerist disc-jockeys, the rock milieu was disdained by most of the established professionals; they preferred music that was much more conservative. Concert venues preferred much calmer artists, too, so they didn’t welcome rock music; they considered it vulgar, music for rude teenagers. And then there was racism, a commonplace: some people didn’t take to Whites being so influenced by typically Black artists’ styles that they actually recorded their compositions; they liked even less the fact that Afro-American singers (Bo Diddley, Frankie Lymon…) had reached a mass audience playing in a genre they judged to be “inferior”. But rock was big business: it sweetened the pill, and doors were opening. Nobody, however, thought that this phenomenon would last; it was just a question of jumping on the bandwagon while there was money to be made. Under a hail of unfair criticism, Elvis Presley himself was already branching out into other repertoire, not only out of personal taste but also because he was realistic.17 In 1958 the tendency was for rock to be a sweetened form of insipid entertainment, tinted with vague rock imagery and the accents of teen idols like Ricky Nelson, who was an enormous hit with audiences. Secretly in love with Eddie, young Sharon Sheeley had put her name to one of Ricky’s big hits (“Poor Little Fool”) and managed to sell her romantic ballad “Love Again” to Capehart, who asked Eddie to record this monotonous little ditty. And he did so promptly, taking advantage of the opportunity to seduce young Sharon. All that the new single needed was a B-side: based on the riff in its intro (played on a Martin guitar), the great classic Summertime Blues was written inside an hour as the B-side of the ordinary “Love Again”. Released on June 11th 1958, a month after another flop (Teresa), the single written and produced by Cochran and Capehart climbed to N°8 on the charts in two months. Naturally, DJs preferred the B-side, and the single was flipped: Summertime Blues (an apt title for a summer hit) became the A-side and at the same time the definition of this new rock style created by Eddie Cochran. He would leave rockabilly behind him for good; the new sound became a statement of his personality.

In September 1958 Liberty Records created the sub-label Freedom devoted to rock, and they gave carte blanche to Jerry Capehart, the impresario for Eddie Cochran, John Ashley and the excellent Johnny Burnette and his Rock ‘n’ Roll Trio.18 After 26 singles, most of which were mediocre (Capehart had to respect a production-quota), and in which Eddie participated as an arranger and anonymous guitarist, Freedom was dissolved in 1959. In December Eddie flew to New York for an important concert and then returned to California for the small-budget film Go, Johnny Go (Paul Landres, 1959), which was shot in five days at Hal Roach’s Culver City studios; Eddie shared the billing with The Cadillacs and The Moonglows, Jackie Wilson, Ritchie Valens and Chuck Berry, with Alan Freed in the principal role as a talent scout. The film has Eddie singing Teenage Heaven.

1959 SOMETHIN’ ELSE
With three hits behind him (Sittin’ in the Balcony, C’mon Everybody and Summertime Blues), Eddie Cochran was now a self-assured young man with could distinguish between true friends and the other people in the business with whom he came into contact; the latter took second place, with Eddie preferring fishing-trips, shooting, and spending time with his family and old friends. He had a head on his shoulders… His friend Connie Smith had married and given up playing bass, and after the success of Summertime Blues, Eddie had to get a stage-group together. He went on tour with some newcomers: Mike Henderson (sax), Jim Stivers (piano), Dave Shrieber (bass), Gene Ridgio (drums) and The Kelly Four, whose line-up varied. Eddie didn’t believe in showbiz that much and deliberately turned up late, even missing an appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show, America’s most-watched TV programme! When he was on the road, he preferred going shooting in the woods… But with a new tour in the Midwest and numerous record-sessions, he became inseparable from his new band and they recorded Somethin’ Else, a song written by his girl Sharon and his brother Bob. It was another teenage masterpiece, and went to N°58 that summer. It was later picked up by Sid Vicious, The Stray Cats, and even French star Johnny Hallyday covered it as Elle est terrible [“She’s terrific”…] But Eddie had had enough; he thought it was just a circus, and he was bored by his success and the tours that kept him away from Sharon and his friends. He preferred the studios. His agent American Music had set up its own Silver label and was financing the records by The Kelly Four, Jewel Akens and Eddie Daniels (aka Jewel & Eddie), John Ashley and Darry Weaver in which Eddie Cochran took part. Even Capehart, his trusty manager, finally lost interest in his protégé. At the end of ‘59 Cochran’s last session took place with The Crickets (Buddy Holly’s old group), but without Capehart. Out of that session came the masterly Cut Across Shorty and the posthumous hit entitled Three Steps to Heaven. Nor did Capehart go to England with him: Gene Vincent had accomplished a triumphant 12-date tour there in December 1959 under the aegis of Larry Parnes, a star impresario on the British rock scene, and Gene had been on Jack Good’s popular TV show Oh Boy! Good wanted to capitalize on his success and had invited Eddie and Gene to tour together.

1960 THREE STEPS TO HEAVEN
When he arrived in London on January 10th Eddie went straight back on the road. Like all of his musicians he shared a hotel room, and he and Gene stayed together. Gene had started wearing black leather (from head to foot), and wore a big medal around his neck; Good had asked him to dress that way for his TV show, and Gene kept the same costume throughout the tour, on which they were accompanied by English rock singer Marty Wilde’s group The Wild Cats. Gene Vincent and Eddie Cochran were inseparable: Gene had a permanent limp after a motorcycle accident, and was affected by the mishaps which had sent his career into limbo; Eddie was more resistant, and he became a crutch for Gene to lean on. But they were very successful: their British clones didn’t have the same calibre and the two friends were the first to really make Britain discover rock ‘n’ roll. The pioneering Eddie Cochran and Gene Vincent spent months on the road sharing all kinds of misfortunes (and moments of glory). But Eddie was drinking a lot and he missed America; he spent a fortune on transatlantic phone-calls to his family.

Sharon flew in from California to spend his birthday with him on April 4th. After four months of touring and a final concert in Bristol, Sharon, Eddie, Gene and road-manager Patrick Thompkins finally took a taxi to the airport a hundred miles away; they were overjoyed at the prospect of going home, and had booked a plane due to leave at one in the morning, a few hours after the concert. The taxi driver was a 19 year-old named George Martin, and he was speeding through the countryside when he was told that they’d taken a wrong turn; he stamped on the brakes and the taxi left the road and overturned. Thompkins and the driver were unhurt; Gene and Sharon were badly injured, but Eddie was thrown out of the car when it overturned and suffered serious head-injuries. He was taken to St. Martin’s Hospital in Chippenham, where he died at four in the morning on Easter Monday, 1960. He was twenty-one.




1 1 Mr fiddle Eddie Cochran - The Cochran Brothers Eddie Cochran 00:02:26 1955
1 2 Two blue singin stars Eddie Cochran - The Cochran Brothers Eddie Cochran 00:02:39 1955
1 3 Pink peg slacks Eddie Cochran - The Cochran Brothers Eddie Cochran 00:01:55 1956
1 4 Yesterday's heartbreak Eddie Cochran - The Cochran Brothers Eddie Cochran 00:02:05 1956
1 5 My love to remember Eddie Cochran - The Cochran Brothers Eddie Cochran 00:02:04 1956
1 6 Tired and sleepy Eddie Cochran - The Cochran Brothers Eddie Cochran 00:02:06 1956
1 7 Fool's paradise Eddie Cochran - The Cochran Brothers Eddie Cochran 00:02:10 1956
1 8 Slow down Eddie Cochran - The Cochran Brothers Eddie Cochran 00:02:03 1956
1 9 Open the door Eddie Cochran - The Cochran Brothers Eddie Cochran 00:02:08 1956
1 10 Long tall sally Eddie Cochran Richard Blackwell 00:01:47 1956
1 11 Blue suede shoes Eddie Cochran Carl Perkins 00:01:51 1956
1 12 I almost lost my mind Eddie Cochran Ivory Joe Hunter 00:02:31 1956
1 13 That's my desire Eddie Cochran Helmy Kresa 00:02:08 1956
1 14 Twenty flight rock Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:01:46 1956
1 15 Dark lonely street Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:24 1956
1 16 Ping peg slacks Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:11 1956
1 17 Half loved Eddie Cochran Ray Stanley 00:02:29 1956
1 18 Skinny jim Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:15 1956
1 19 Cotton picker Eddie Cochran Wortham Watts 00:02:15 1956
1 20 Sittin in the balcony Eddie Cochran 00:02:02 1957
1 21 Sweetie pie Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:11 1957
1 22 Mean when i'm mad Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:01:55 1957
1 23 One kiss Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:01:50 1957
2 1 Teenage cutie Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:01:37 1957
2 2 Drive in show Eddie Cochran Fred Dexter 00:02:03 1957
2 3 Am i blue Eddie Cochran H. Akst 00:02:18 1957
2 4 Completly sweet Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:22 1957
2 5 Undying love Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:09 1957
2 6 I'm alone because i love you Eddie Cochran Ira Schuster 00:02:23 1957
2 7 Loving time Eddie Cochran Jan Woolsey 00:02:07 1957
2 8 Proud of you Eddie Cochran Jay Fitzsimmons 00:02:00 1957
2 9 Stockings and shoes Eddie Cochran Lyle Gaston 00:02:19 1957
2 10 Tell me why Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:18 1957
2 11 Have i told you lately that i love you Eddie Cochran Scott Greene Wiseman 00:02:36 1957
2 12 Cradle baby Eddie Cochran Terry Fell 00:01:50 1957
2 13 Twenty flight rock Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:01:45 1957
2 14 A pocketful of hearts Eddie Cochran Fred Dexter 00:01:57 1957
2 15 Never Eddie Cochran Terry Fell 00:01:53 1957
2 16 Pretty girl Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:01:52 1958
2 17 Jeannie jeannie jeannie Eddie Cochran George Motola 00:02:23 1958
2 18 Little lou Eddie Cochran Eddy Daniels 00:01:42 1958
2 19 Summertime blues Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:01 1958
2 20 Teresa Eddie Cochran Gary Carmody 00:02:08 1958
2 21 Don't ever let me go Eddie Cochran Jay Fitzsimmons 00:02:13 1958
2 22 Let's go together Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:01:58 1958
2 23 Teenage heaven Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:10 1959
3 1 C'mon everybody Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:01:58 1958
3 2 Nervous breakdown Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:21 1958
3 3 I remember Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:18 1959
3 4 My way Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:17 1959
3 5 Rock'n roll blues Eddie Cochran Bede Korstein 00:02:23 1959
3 6 Three stars Eddie Cochran Tom Donaldson 00:03:40 1959
3 7 Week end Eddie Cochran Bill Post 00:01:52 1959
3 8 Think of me Eddie Cochran K. Sheeley Sharon 00:02:00 1959
3 9 Three steps to heaven Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:25 1959
3 10 Somethin' else Eddie Cochran K. Sheeley Sharon 00:02:06 1959
3 11 Boll weelin' song Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:01:59 1959
3 12 Little angel Eddie Cochran Albert Winn 00:01:52 1959
3 13 My love to remember Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:01:58 1959
3 14 Jelly bean Eddie Cochran Maurice Maccall 00:02:04 1959
3 15 Don't bye bye me Eddie Cochran Maurice Maccall 00:02:17 1959
3 16 Hallelujah i love her so Eddie Cochran Ray Charles 00:02:20 1959
3 17 Cut across shorty Eddie Cochran Marjorie Wilkin 0 0:01:51 1959
3 18 Fourth man theme Eddie Cochran Jerry Capehart 00:02:04 1959
3 19 Milk cow blues Eddie Cochran James Arnold 00:03:12 1959
3 20 Eddie's blues Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:04:00 1959
3 21 Strollin' guitar Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:01:55 1960
3 22 Country jam Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:02:01 1959
3 23 Hammy blues Eddie Cochran Eddie Cochran 00:01:44 1959
3 24 Cherished memories Eddie Cochran K. Sheeley Sharon 00:01:53 1959

From French 3C