Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained

Charles Harper Webb’s "Ooh My Soul" is an electrifying meditation on the transformative power of rock and roll, particularly the primal, unrestrained energy of Little Richard. The poem unfolds as a memory, capturing a pivotal moment in the speaker’s childhood when music ceases to be mere sound and becomes a force that reshapes his sense of self. Through cascading imagery, rhythmic propulsion, and an evolving sense of personal revelation, Webb charts the impact of rock and roll as it infiltrates family life, cultural consciousness, and the speaker’s artistic identity.

The poem opens in an eerie, almost gothic setting: "By night, ghosts roam Aunt Ermyn’s elm-shrouded, hundred-year-old home." This initial atmosphere of haunted nostalgia contrasts sharply with the explosion of energy that follows. The speaker, a child at the time, occupies himself in the hallway, assembling “all-star teams of baseball cards”—an image that suggests a world of structured, rule-bound imagination. Meanwhile, his older cousin Pete, just out of high school, embodies cool rebellion, “combs his duck-tail and keeps time to records with his creaky rocking chair.” The creaking chair, an old, almost mechanical sound, stands in stark contrast to the sound that suddenly erupts from Pete’s open door.

What follows is a moment of sensory overload. The speaker hears "war drums? Or is it a runaway train?" The description of Little Richard’s "Keep A-Knockin’" as “some kind of preacher shrieks, then squeals like tires around a curve” captures the uncontainable, chaotic brilliance of his voice—a force both sacred and profane, reminiscent of gospel but delivered with wild abandon. The instruments—“chugging drums, smoking piano, squawking duck-call saxophones”—are not just played; they seem to possess a dangerous, uncontrollable energy. The similes Webb employs—"oil rig ready to blow," "wells pumping, teeter-totters bumping, giant turtle-heads working out and in"—suggest motion, explosion, and a kind of physical inevitability, as though rock and roll is not just a sound but a seismic force.

The effect on the young speaker is immediate and overwhelming. The music makes him want to “slam my head back and forth like a paddleball—to jump, shout, bang my hands on walls, and flap them in the air.” This description mirrors the raw, convulsive energy of rock and roll itself, an experience that transcends reason and takes hold of the body. Webb’s invocation of childhood tantrums—“to fall onto the ground and writhe, flail, roar like Johnny Cerna in his famous Kiddieland tantrum”—connects the primal intensity of rock music to unfiltered, uninhibited expression, the kind of wild release that is often disciplined out of children but finds its way back into the world through music.

The song’s refrain, "Keepa knockin’ but you cain’t come in," serves as both an invitation and a challenge. At first, the line is sung by Little Richard, but as the poem progresses, the speaker internalizes it: “But I am in.” With this declaration, the speaker steps beyond passive listening into full immersion, experiencing the music in multiple dimensions. He moves through time, situating himself in various scenes where rock and roll has shaped his life. The first, “I’m in the living room, Bandstand on TV, Dad ranting, ‘Goddamn Congo beat!’” introduces the generational divide, the resistance of the old guard to rock music’s racialized, chaotic energy. The father’s dismissal—linking the music to an imagined primitivism—echoes the historical backlash against rock and roll as a dangerous, corrupting force.

From there, the speaker’s journey through music continues, marking different stages of his personal evolution. He recalls sitting in the "back seat of his Ford a decade later, learning what that beat could be." This suggests an adolescent awakening, likely through the experience of music as both a social force and a soundtrack to rebellion, freedom, and sexual discovery. The phrase “learning what that beat could be” implies an awareness that goes beyond musicality—rock and roll is something to be understood and felt, a pulse that structures experience.

The poem moves through the speaker’s formative years—“I’m in my first band, hoarse from screaming ‘Long Tall Sally.’” Here, he has fully embraced rock and roll, not just as a listener but as a performer, losing his voice in an attempt to embody the wild energy of the music itself. This leads to another transformation—“I’m in my college dorm, trying to jam that wild abandon into poems.” The use of “jam” suggests both musical improvisation and the struggle of translating pure, unfiltered feeling into a structured form. This line signals an important realization: the speaker is not just experiencing rock and roll but attempting to carry its energy into his own art.

The climax of the poem arrives in the present tense: “I’m in my car, heading for work when ‘Good Golly, Miss Molly!’ catapults out of my Blaupunkt stereo.” This sudden reentry into adult life suggests that the energy of rock and roll has remained, even as time has passed. The word "catapults" underscores the music’s enduring power—it is not just playing; it propels the listener into a heightened state. This moment bridges the past and present, reminding the speaker of his childhood initiation into music.

The poem’s final revelation brings him full circle, returning him to Pete’s bedroom, the threshold he had never dared to cross. But now, with “Oh, womp bompalumomp, a lomp bam boom!”—Little Richard’s iconic nonsense syllables—language itself dissolves into pure sound and energy. The speaker is not thinking in words, but knows that he has spent his entire life preparing for this moment, for this feeling. The declaration—“It’s more exciting than a touchdown any day, or a home run, a gunfight, hurricane waves at Galveston, a five-pound bass on a cane pole.”—emphasizes the sheer visceral power of rock and roll, which surpasses even the most thrilling childhood experiences.

The poem’s final question—“What is that?” I holler. Pete says, “Rock and roll.”—is deceptively simple, distilling an entire journey of musical awakening into a single exchange. The phrasing of the question suggests not just curiosity but astonishment, as though the speaker has stumbled upon something elemental. Pete’s response, given without elaboration, underscores rock and roll’s ineffable quality: it doesn’t need explanation; it is.

"Ooh My Soul" captures the primal, transformative force of rock and roll, framing it as an experience that transcends words, social barriers, and even time. Webb masterfully charts the speaker’s journey from childhood wonder to artistic ambition, all while maintaining the breathless, propulsive energy that mirrors the music itself. Through cascading images and rhythmic intensity, the poem embodies the spirit of Little Richard’s music—not merely describing its effect but becoming it.

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