MUSIC REVIEW : Sour Notes Fail to Spoil Chuck Berry Concert

Thursday afternoon, Chuck Berry drove down to San Diego from Los Angeles in a rented Lincoln Town Car, accompanied only by his guitar.

The legendary rock ‘n’ roller had been booked to play two shows at the Bacchanal in Kearny Mesa that night, and, as usual, his contract called for the club to supply all the amplifiers, microphones and other stage equipment--as well as a backup band.

He got there too late for a sound check, but he didn’t need one. He never needs one. He’s notorious for using the first show as something of a dress rehearsal for the second show. If there isn’t a second show, well, too bad.

He hadn’t bothered to tune his guitar, either. Throughout his first 40-minute show and for a good portion of his second, he tried, unsuccessfully, to get the darn thing to sound right.

Even after he did, his playing was so sloppy--he kept missing chords and hitting the wrong notes--that it hardly made a difference.

But Berry didn’t seem to care. He was having a good time, grinning and mugging and periodically breaking into his famous “duckwalk.”

The audience didn’t care, either. Concert-goers were having a good time cheering and clapping and rewarding each duckwalk with a standing ovation.

And, if you get right down to it, Berry’s unpreparedness and sloppy musicianship didn’t make his performance any less successful. In the middle and late 1950s, Berry took the blues, country, and a defiant teen attitude and came up with a bunch of classic tunes that have influenced virtually every rock musician since.

The mere fact that he’s still out there on the concert trail, stirring up solid-gold memories, more than compensates for any flaws in his performance.

He wrote the book on rock ‘n’ roll. So what if his reading skills aren’t what they used to be?

Berry’s second show was essentially a repeat of his first, although he was in much better form. Wearing a loose-fitting shirt covered with multicolored geometrical patterns and tight white slacks, he opened with “Roll Over, Beethoven,” followed by “No Particular Place to Go” and “Sweet Little Sixteen.”

His guitar was still out of tune, and his playing left a lot to be desired, but that’s somehow part of his charm. Here’s a guy who’s 58 or 63 (depending on which rock encyclopedia you believe), prancing about on stage as though he was 21 again, as carefree--and care less --as ever.

He even had the crowd sing along on the final verse of “Roll Over Beethoven,” a sure sign that this is one legend who doesn’t take himself too seriously.

Berry continued the fast pace with “Carol” and “Round and Round,” slowed things down a bit with the old blues standard, “It Hurts Me Too,” and then went into “My Ding-a-Ling,” an expendable novelty song he cut in 1972 that, ironically, was his only No. 1 hit.

Then it was all over. Berry turned out a splendid version of “Johnny B. Goode” and then ended the show with “Reelin’ and Rockin,” which in 1973 became his last Top 40 hit.

Toward the end of the song, he invited the crowd to join him up on stage, and they did, reelin’ and rockin’ with the master himself. They clutched him, they hugged him, they wiped his sweat with sweaters and shirts and jackets that probably will never be washed again.

Then he disappeared, making an inconspicuous exit while the band continued playing and the crowd continued dancing.

Then he drove back to L.A., in his rented Lincoln, just him and his guitar.