Queen of Rockabilly

Luckily, the King of Rock & Roll was correct in his assessment of Jackson as a natural, and she became the Queen of Rockabilly at a time when Janis Martin was "the Female Elvis" and Brenda Lee was some child mutant doing rock & roll with some success. Jackson even recorded with a mixed-race band, the Poe Cats (including Big Al Downing), beginning in early 1958, and the records were amazing, although they didn't start selling seriously until 1960, when a DJ started playing "Let's Have a Party," a three-year-old track off of her 1957 debut LP, and Capitol got it out as a single. She was suddenly on the pop charts, as a unique voice and personality by then, and her career, which had started to coast, was suddenly thrown into high gear. It's all here, the astonishingly raucous and even raunchy early singles like "Hot Dog! That Made Him Mad" and "Fujiyama Mama" (the latter a huge hit in Japan, amazingly enough), the LP renditions of "Long Tall Sally" and "Rock Your Baby," and the raw, throat-ripping performances of "Rip It Up," from as late as 1963. There are some especially amazing moments amid the rip-roaring rock & roll that even Finnis misses, such as Jackson's rendition of Chuck Berry's "Brown Eyed Handsome Man." The song itself was Berry's commentary on the plight of the black man in white society, but for a white Southern woman rocker to sing it in 1961, even on an LP, while Berry was in the middle of his first-round trials for alleged illicit activities with an underage girl, was an amazingly challenging and provocative act -- Finnis extends the effect by following it with the later LP track "You Don't Know Baby," a slow, smoldering blues that Jackson makes work as a woman's song. She's equally bold and convincing on Little Richard's "Slippin' and Slidin'" from the same session as the Berry song; of course, in 1958 Jackson was also singing "Rock Your Baby," with its demand "Rock your baby all night long, and don't be slow" -- a song she wrote herself, no less. By the time it's over, this CD will make one wonder if Jackson -- her denials and professed innocence notwithstanding -- was the most sexually and musically subversive white woman ever to step in front of a microphone. The sound is great too, up to Ace's usual high standard and then some.

Bruce Eder/All Music Guide