“If you do this, you can’t miss”: Bo Diddley shared eight tips for surviving life and the music business
Pinpointing the originators of rock ‘n’ roll isn’t always that simple. While, for some, the names flow easily—Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Alan Freed, Elvis Presley—others say it’s not quite as simple as that, considering that, by definition, rock ‘n’ roll emerged from the rhythmic parameters of rhythm, blues, and jazz. Bo Diddley, on the other hand, might be as close to a unifying origin point as any single artist could be.
However, no matter the true originators—of which there are many—those in the limelight have struggled with a more troubling question since the dawn of time: How can you survive fame when everything you do is closely observed and there are pressures and temptations from all angles? This was difficult back in the 1950s for different reasons, but the challenges have always remained, becoming more intense over time with fan culture and the emergence of social media.
However, during Diddley’s time, many issues came with occupying the limelight, which varied in intensity depending on your cultural and ethnic background. Diddley and others, like Berry and Little Richard, had the constant force of racial discrimination and segregation imposed on their lives, with much of their work being reimagined or repurposed by white musicians who would gain significantly more radio play.
Aside from industry exploitation, societal prejudice, and other commercial expectations, there was also the insidious underbelly of enjoying success in rock spaces and the prominence and accessibility of partying in excess, whether to let loose against the pressures of fame or to escape from it entirely. Throughout history, there have been many instances of stars pushing the boundaries of what they’re physically capable of without much support to coax them away from dangers, leaving struggles with addiction to thrive.
On top of that, without help or support, the vicious cycle of a damaged reputation becomes a defining signifier of a downfall, which is almost always exacerbated under the media and tabloid culture’s hapless gaze. So, what advice would someone as prolific as Diddley give to others? Well, he once gave an eight-piece wisdom dump to a print magazine, covering all bases from romantic liaisons to substance abuse.
On the latter, his advice was to “only drink Grand Marnier, and that’s to keep the throat from drying up in a place where there’s a lot of smoke.” On the topic of drugs, his passion almost emanates from the page with a resounding: “As for drugs: a big NO!” It makes complete sense as to why Diddley would be so sensible and guarded, considering the many stars that fell victim to the dark corners of the industry during his reign.
Still, his signature cynicism and humour came across in other areas, like the topic of food (“Eat anytime, anything you can get your hands on!”), money (“Always take a lawyer with you, and then bring another lawyer to watch him”), hearing (“Don’t put your ears in the speakers”), and even health (“Whenever you get to feeling weird, take Bayer aspirin. I can’t stand taking all that other bullshit”). However, the ones that feel particularly veiled in something deeply comedic with a sprinkling of reality are his positions on “defence”, “women,” and “cows”—yes, cows.
“I can’t go around slapping people with my hands or else I’d go broke. So I take karate and kick when I fight,” he quipped with regards to “defence,” comedically referring to those he gets to do his dirty work on his behalf while claiming that smelling nice is the only thing needed to woo a woman. “If you do this, you can’t miss,” he said, with the same kind of off-kilter playfulness that categorised his “cows” mantra: “If they wanna play, and you don’t wanna make pets out of ‘em, and you can’t eat ‘em — then get rid of ‘em!”
While there are a lot of lighthearted musings in there, there are also ones that still ring true, like his views on drugs and alcohol, managing money, and approaching people you haven’t met before. However, even amid the chaos, his overarching slice of wisdom is glaring and obvious, like the most simplistic thing in the world—have fun. After all, if a musician isn’t enjoying themselves, is there any point to it all?
