Once when I was young I saw Jerry Lee Lewis perform at the Baton Rouge State Fair.
It was wild. Jerry Lee, the sorcerer who never stopped leering at his audience, leaped up and down and pounded his piano with boogie-woogie abandon. He even played with his feet, pumping in perfect time.
Lewis' death last week at age 87 brought back my still vivid memories of that afternoon when "the Killer" held us in thrall.
No one I saw over the years gave such an electric performance.
Little Richard when he burst out of Macon, Ga., or the young Elvis might have matched Lewis' power. Bands that Lewis influenced like the Rolling Stones and the Who worked hard to achieve his natural manic energy.
Lewis was a true American original. His performance was a pure blast of musical libido. Every concert I saw after that carried part of Jerry Lee's essence.