Song Johnny B Goode by Chuck Berry: The Story Behind the Anthem

Few pieces of music encapsulate the energy and spirit of early rock and roll as perfectly as the Song Johnny B Goode By Chuck Berry. Its impact is so profound that it was the sole rock and roll track included on the Voyager Golden Record, sent into deep space by NASA in the 1970s as a representation of human culture. At the time, some criticized the inclusion of any rock music at all. Now, that record travels further from Earth than any other human-made object. Comedian Steve Martin famously joked on Saturday Night Live shortly after the probe’s launch that aliens had sent back a message: “Send more Chuck Berry.” This anecdote underscores the monumental significance of “Johnny B. Goode”.

[Excerpt: Chuck Berry, “Johnny B. Goode”]

The Genesis of a Rock and Roll Classic

Following his breakthrough hit “School Day,” which successfully crossed over to the broader white teenage audience embracing rock and roll, Chuck Berry’s career wasn’t a straight ascent. His follow-up single, “Oh Baby Doll,” performed modestly. However, his next release, “Rock and Roll Music,” marked the beginning of a three-single streak that would cement Berry as the genre’s premier storyteller. Moving beyond his earlier reference to “these rhythm and blues,” Berry explicitly embraced the music’s new name, singing “just let me hear some of that rock and roll music.”

[Excerpt: Chuck Berry, “Rock and Roll Music”]

This track propelled him back into the top ten. His popularity soared; during late 1957 tours, artists lower on the bill, like Buddy Holly and the Crickets, would even perform Berry’s hits like “Roll Over Beethoven” and “Brown-Eyed Handsome Man,” showcasing the depth of his catalogue. It was during this period, in subsequent studio sessions, that Berry laid down tracks that would further define his sound and the rock and roll experience itself. One session yielded “Reelin’ and Rockin’,” a rework of Wynonie Harris’s “Round the Clock Blues,” albeit with Berry claiming full writing credit despite the clear similarities.

[Excerpt: Chuck Berry, “Reelin’ and Rockin’”]

These sessions also saw a shift in piano style, influenced by the rising fame of Jerry Lee Lewis. Leonard Chess, head of Chess Records, insisted that Berry’s pianist – likely his regular collaborator Johnnie Johnson, despite some sources crediting Lafayette Leake – incorporate Lewis’s signature “ripping” technique (rapidly sliding fingers across the keys). Though Johnson initially disliked the style, considering it “all flash and no technique,” Chess’s insistence prevailed. Johnson later conceded that the technique added excitement that appealed to the younger audience. Another song from these sessions, “Sweet Little Sixteen,” directly addressed this audience, becoming one of the first songs about the rock and roll fan experience itself – capturing the excitement of attending shows and collecting memorabilia, albeit filtered through a male gaze focused on the young fan’s appearance. Notably, the lyrics namechecked “American Bandstand,” signalling Dick Clark’s growing influence over Berry’s early mentor, Alan Freed.

[Excerpt: Chuck Berry, “Sweet Little Sixteen”]

Deconstructing the Sound: The Iconic Riff and Its Roots

Just a week after recording “Sweet Little Sixteen,” Berry entered the studio again for the session that would produce his most famous creation, the Song Johnny B Goode By Chuck Berry. Its instantly recognizable guitar introduction is legendary:

[Excerpt: Chuck Berry, “Johnny B. Goode” Intro]

While original to Berry, this famous riff has a rich history. The core idea was adapted from Carl Hogan, guitarist for Louis Jordan, specifically from the intro to Jordan’s “Ain’t That Just Like a Woman”:

[Excerpt: Louis Jordan, “Ain’t That Just Like a Woman” Intro]

However, Hogan himself was drawing on a well-established musical phrase. Traces of this riff appear as early as 1918 in Wilbur Sweatman’s Jazz Orchestra’s “Bluin’ the Blues,” and later in recordings by blues pioneers like Blind Lemon Jefferson (“Got the Blues,” 1926) and Blind Blake (“Too Tight,” 1926), as well as jazz artists like Cow Cow Davenport, Andy Kirk, and Count Basie. But Berry introduced a crucial innovation. Listen again to Hogan’s single-note line, then to Berry’s version. Berry frequently plays the melody on two strings simultaneously, creating parallel harmonies. This thicker sound was a technique borrowed from the influential blues guitarist T-Bone Walker:

[Excerpt: T-Bone Walker, “Shufflin’ the Blues”]

By combining Hogan’s note choices with Walker’s double-string technique, Berry transformed a common musical phrase into a unique, unforgettable signature. When the Beach Boys later used a similar intro for “Fun, Fun, Fun,” listeners immediately recognized it not as a generic blues lick, but specifically as the intro to “Johnny B. Goode.” Berry had masterfully repurposed a standard element, making it definitively his own.

Chuck Berry smiles alongside influential DJ Alan Freed, collaborators on the film Go, Johnny, Go!

Lyrics and Meaning: More Than Just a Story

The lyrics of “Johnny B. Goode,” while more original than the music, also have traceable origins. Berry often stated the initial idea stemmed from a message to pianist Johnnie Johnson: “Johnnie, be good,” a plea for his friend to curb his drinking. This concept evolved into a narrative about an idealized version of Berry himself – a country boy achieving fame through music. This autobiographical element was even clearer in an earlier draft where “country boy” was “coloured boy.” The song’s title itself offers another clue: “Goode” is spelled with an ‘e’, matching the spelling of Goode Avenue, the street where Berry grew up (2520 Goode Avenue). Some also point to Langston Hughes’s popular newspaper columns featuring the character Jesse B. Simple as a possible structural influence. While individual elements can be traced, the genius of the song Johnny B Goode by Chuck Berry lies in the unique and powerful combination of these musical and lyrical components.

Cultural Impact and the Shadows of Controversy

“Johnny B. Goode” quickly became the title track for what would be Alan Freed’s final film, Go, Johnny, Go! (1959). The film featured Berry prominently alongside Freed, as well as other stars like Eddie Cochran, the Moonglows, and Ritchie Valens. It represented a last hurrah for many involved. By the film’s release, Valens was dead; soon after, Cochran also died, Freed faced disgrace, and Berry was imprisoned.

A pivotal 1958 tour featuring Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis, and MC Alan Freed marked a turning point, particularly for Freed. During a show in Boston, police reacted strongly to audience members dancing. They forced Freed to make the audience sit down during Lewis’s set. Later, during Berry’s headlining performance, the police refused to dim the house lights after forcing the audience to sit again. Freed announced, “It looks like the Boston police don’t want you to have a good time.” Though the show continued under full lights, tensions escalated. The police subsequently blamed the show for various crimes reported that night, leading Boston to ban rock and roll concerts. The controversy caused cancellations for the remainder of the tour.

This adversity reportedly forged a closer bond between rivals Berry and Lewis, but it hastened Freed’s downfall. Already facing issues with his radio station WINS due to his difficult nature and broadcasting from home, the Boston incident gave the station grounds to fire him using a morals clause, though it was framed as a resignation. Freed struggled to regain his former prominence. Within years, he became the industry scapegoat for “payola” – the practice of DJs accepting payments to play records. While common (Dick Clark also participated) and arguably a way for smaller labels like Chess and Sun to compete with majors, a campaign against payola, potentially fueled by major labels, targeted Freed. He lost subsequent radio jobs and died in 1965 from complications of alcoholism, aged just 43.

Chuck Berry’s own downfall followed. In late 1959, he was arrested under the Mann Act (“The White Slave Traffic Act”) after meeting a 14-year-old Apache girl working as a sex worker in Texas. He brought her back to St. Louis, ostensibly for a job at his club, but fired her shortly after. She then went to the police. While the Mann Act was historically used disproportionately against Black men, and Berry’s prosecution likely had racial motivations (acknowledged when his sentence was reduced due to judicial remarks), the fact remains that a man in his thirties engaged in sexual relations with a minor. This was not an isolated incident, as evidenced by a later class-action lawsuit involving secretly videotaping women in restrooms.

However, the narrative that Berry’s arrest immediately destroyed his career is inaccurate. “Johnny B. Goode” (March 1958) was his last top ten pop hit for several years, but his chart history was already inconsistent. Many classics (“Thirty Days,” “Too Much Monkey Business”) had failed to chart on pop listings prior to the arrest in December 1959. For nearly two years before the arrest, Berry’s singles were already charting lower. Public taste was shifting, and Berry himself later admitted the material released between “Johnny B. Goode” and his imprisonment wasn’t his best, with exceptions like the brilliant “Memphis, Tennessee,” whose adult themes likely didn’t resonate with his teenage audience.

Legacy: Why “Johnny B. Goode” Endures

Ironically, Berry’s time in prison (ending in late 1963) might have inadvertently boosted his commercial prospects upon release. His first three singles in 1964 – “Nadine,” “You Never Can Tell,” and “No Particular Place to Go” – were significant hits, his biggest since 1958.

[Excerpt: Chuck Berry, “No Particular Place to Go”]

This resurgence proved temporary. Berry’s studio output returned to inconsistency, his only major later hit being the novelty song “My Ding-a-Ling” in the 1970s. He largely stopped recording new music in the late seventies, spending decades touring with pickup bands, often frustratingly unprofessional but relying on the universal recognition of his songs. He remained, by many accounts, a bitter figure. His final album, “Chuck,” was released posthumously after his death in 2017 at age 90.

Despite the complexities and controversies surrounding the man, the song Johnny B Goode by Chuck Berry remains an undisputed cornerstone of popular music. Its electrifying riff, vivid storytelling, and raw energy continue to inspire musicians and captivate listeners worldwide. As John Lennon famously declared, “if you tried to give rock and roll another name, it would be Chuck Berry.” For better and for worse, his legacy, inextricably tied to anthems like “Johnny B. Goode,” defines the very essence of the genre.