My first encounter with Louis Jordan must have been somewhere between my first breath and five years old. In 1957, rock’n’roll was everywhere and AM radio ruled the airwaves in the car and at home. On long rides to Jones Beach in New York state, my father would surf the radio channels for something to sing along to or scat with. (You Dyed Your Hair) Chartreuse was one of those songs we sang, and I will always remember how Pops laughed. If today the sight of a woman with green hair is not so unusual, back then it must have seemed outrageous, and I’m sure the way Jordan sang the song – falsetto – added to my father’s amusement.
As I grew up, Jordan tracks – Ain’t Nobody Here But Us Chickens, Open the Door, Richard, Let the Good Times Roll and so many others – became the soundscape of my youth and were also starting to tune my funny bone.
Television in the 1950s was limited to a few channels. There was always something on from a bygone era. Old black-and-white films such as Cabin in the Sky and Stormy Weather, with their African-American casts showcasing talents such as the phenomenal dancing duo the Nicholas Brothers, Ella Fitzgerald or John Bubbles, entertained us on Saturday mornings. Those times also had what my parents called “shorts” – the music videos of the day. I remember a seven-year-old Sammy Davis Jr’s rendition of I’ll be Glad When You’re Dead, You Rascal You and Nat King Cole’s No 1 hit Nature Boy.
One thing in particular that stayed with me for decades was the zany movie Hellzapoppin’. The 1941 film broke standard cinema conventions – actors spoke to the audience, there was abundant slapstick, talking photographs, even the camera angles were crazy, and it featured one of the best lindy hop sequences ever recorded.
Of course, Jordan was also in the Saturday morning lineup. I remember him doing Early in the Morning with shoulder shuffles and hip shakes. His songs remind me of joyful moments in my childhood – playing hide and seek with other kids on the block, singing Ain’t Nobody Here But Us Chickens, or Beans and Cornbread playing while I was retelling a tall tale about a scrap some friends and I got into.
Fast forward 30 years. In 1985 I was living in London and had worked with the late Ned Sherrin in several of his musical tributes – Li, about composer Lionel Bart, and I Gotta Shoe, a black musical about Cinderella that mixed 30s tunes and new compositions, and Only in America, the Leiber and Stoller songbook. I was learning from Ned how to create a musical theatre show, and wanted to do it myself. I wanted to write something with the joy of bubbling brown sugar, something that could contain the dexterity of the Nicholas Bothers and the humour and sheer fun of all those Saturday morning movie shows. Who could I celebrate? Who fitted the criteria?
My eureka moment came after listening to hundreds of Jordan songs. Some were poignant, others lighthearted. Many of them featured interesting characters or were vignettes. Listen to him sing Open the Door, Richard or If You’re So Smart, How Come You Ain’t Rich? The title alone is worth noting. Jordan’s music fitted my scenario and I started to create a show using his songs.
I wrote a story about a broken-hearted and broke man, Nomax, who one night is visited by five singing and dancing angels – Big Moe, Four-Eyed Moe, Eat Moe, Know Moe and Little Moe – who emerge from his 1930s-style radio to help him get his life back on track, using Jordan’s songs.
We opened at Stratford East Theatre Royal, London, in September 1989. Cameron Mackintosh saw the show and transferred it to the Lyric in the West End, and then Broadway. The rest is history.
At that time, there was no vehicle for men of colour to express and challenge their talents, which was another reason I wanted to create a show. In that respect, Five Guys Named Moe has fulfilled its mission. The number of young men and women who have told me that this show inspired them to come into the business is a wonderful thing to hear.
Now, revisiting the show in a specially built theatre in London almost 30 years on is exciting. People who saw it first time around are now bringing their children. Jordan wanted everyone who saw his shows simply to have a good time. With all that is happening in the world today, locally, nationally and internationally, a moment to escape into the “rolling good time” is needed. Everyone needs a reason to smile, to laugh, to simply enjoy. We need Jordan’s joie de vivre, and to look at people as they leave the theatre, smiling, humming, repeating lyrics from songs they’ve heard, and sometimes even skipping, makes me so happy. Let the good times roll.
- Five Guys Named Moe is at the Marble Arch theatre, London, until 24 March. Box office: 03333 444167.
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