When considering the impact of certain early rock 'n' roll stars, it is always amazing to note just how great their impact was in so short a time period. For example, Little Richard and Buddy Holly each became legends with bodies of work which were made in a mere eighteen months. The reputation of Jerry lee Lewis rests on three astounding singles, plus his wild, dynamic appearances on mainstream TV, most notoriously, on The Steve Allen Show, where he was first seem by millions, kicking his piano bench out from under himself, only to have it come flying back onscreen, courtesy of Mr. Allen and his wacky sense of humor.

Even "The Killer," however, is outdone by Ritchie Valens, when it comes to everlasting fame and earned in the shortest amount of time. Ritchie's place in rock 'n' roll history is based on only two 45's, one a two-sided hit. The first, "Come On, Let's Go," is one I recall first hearing on Alan Freed's TV Dance Party, a local New York equivalent of Dick Clark's American Bandstand. It was a record which really grabbed my teenaged ears. I had never heard anything quite like it. It had a much "thicker" sound than anything by Elvis, Chuck Berry, Gene Vincent or even Eddie Cochran. For thickness, the only thing that came close was Bo Diddley.

Still, with a first release that reached #42, Ritchie might easily have gone the way of dozens of other "one hit wonders," had he and producer Bob Keane not come up with his remarkable double sided follow-up. Going against conventional wisdom, which says that you must always follow a hit with a similar sound, Keane instead chose a doo-wop ballad Valens had written for his girlfriend, Donna Ludwig. The dreamy "Donna" was the first to reach the charts, eventually hitting #2 pop and #11 R&B. The gossamer love song, despite its lightness, still had the thickness and depth of Ritchie's previous hit. Slow dancing to it, you and your baby could get lost in virtual layers of romance. Soon, disc jockeys and fans alike began to flip "Donna" over to discover the magic on the other side. From its famous opening to the equally famous fade out. "La Bamba" is a timeless classic. It matters not that most Americans have no idea what the lyric of this old Mexican folk tune has to say. We are transported by the lilt of Ritchie's voice, we're lifted higher by the unforgettable guitar solo and we lose our breath as time stands still when the rhythm stops before Ritchie's last verse. "La Bamba" is a recording for all time.

It was only many years later that the curious discovered that Ritchie's musicians included legendary LA session stalwarts like guitarist Rene Hall and drummer Earl Palmer, and that it was recorded at Gold Star, the studio which would later produce Phil Spector's Wall of Sound. The versatility of these studio players is evidenced by the fact that they played on not only rock 'n' roll dates by the likes of Sam Cooke, Little Richard, Larry Williams and Don & Dewey, but Frank Sinatra sessions and countless movie soundtracks. A month after "La Bamba" hit the charts, 17 year old Ritchie Valens was dead, killed in the infamous plane crash which also took the lives of Buddy Holly and the Big Bopper. It is foolish to speculate whether or not Ritchie might have gone on to further greatness, but like James Dean and Marilyn Monroe, we never had to see him grow old, wearing a lame tuxedo at oldie shows. We get to remember him as we discovered him, the way he looks in the movie Go, Johnny Go!, singing "Ooh! My Head," after a viewing of which he is said to have remarked, "I'm not much good, but I hope my mother likes me." We all like you, Ritchie. You made some music that will live forever.

- Billy Vera, 1998