Like untold millions of people my age, I grew up watching the Ozzie and Harriet show and seeing David and Ricky Nelson grow up on TV. Back then Ricky was David's kid brother -- everyone's favorite smart aleck long before he turned into one of the first rock stars. Then, in my sixth-grade year, Ozzie and Harriet showed Ricky playing his version of Fats Domino's "I'm Walkin'." The flip side was "A Teenager's Romance," which I think became a legitimate million-seller. If Rick's career had only been "I'm Walkin' " and "A Teenager's Romance," you probably would have called it a phenomenon caused by the power of television. But then his records kicked in, starting with Be-Bop Baby. As I said to Sun Records founder Sam Phillips when I was asked to induct Rick at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, "You know, Sam, for a while there he gave you a run for your money." And it's true -- that kid from TV grew up into something big.

To this day I consider Ricky Nelson one of the true pioneers of rock & roll. Rick's career started within months of Elvis Presley hitting the scene and making his own splash on TV. Rick was able to take the rockabilly thing from Sun and then add more of a pop vibe than Sam Phillips would have ever used. That combination really worked. Even on my little cheesy record player, Ricky's records sounded amazing.

If you really love rock & roll, Rick Nelson deserves to be taken very seriously. When he was putting out his big run of records, it was almost like there was a shootout between Rick and Elvis. And as far as I was concerned, when Rick put out "Travelin' Man" it was Round Fifteen, and Rick won. That's where he knocked out even the King.

The playing on those records was amazing. In those early days, Elvis had Scotty Moore on guitar, but Rick had the great James Burton. Eventually Elvis got James Burton playing with him, but Rick clearly had such great taste and style. And I respect the fact that he tried to keep moving as an artist into the whole country-rock part of his career. He had another big hit in the Seventies with "Garden Party" -- a song about him refusing to become mere nostalgia. In 1978, I met Rick for the first time. He had management that seemed to want me to produce a record for him, but sadly I was in no shape or place to be able to be producing myself, let alone somebody else. Still, I loved meeting Rick.

When Rick Nelson died in a plane crash in 1985, he died a musician: He was the leader of a rock & roll garage band that just happened to be on TV. He just had it all -- the sound, the look. I've always regretted that I wasn't good-looking like Rick Nelson. Yes, he was beautiful, but let's not forget he was also very talented. I think what happened to Rick is what happens to your blond cheerleaders with brains. If you're that good-looking, sometimes you don't take you seriously.

[From Issue 946 — April 15, 2004]

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