A joyous, rolling New Orleans R&B declaration of a man determined to reach the Mecca of romance in the American heartland.
The rhythm of the piano, that irresistible, loping shuffle, immediately transports you back to a time when Rock and Roll was still finding its legs, its sound still steeped in the blues and R&B of the American South. The year was 1964 when the incomparable Fats Domino released his rendition of the classic track, “Kansas City,” on the ABC-Paramount label. While the song itself has a much richer and earlier history—originally composed by the legendary songwriting duo Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller and first recorded in 1952 as “K. C. Loving” by Little Willie Littlefield—Domino’s version is one of the most recognizable and beloved. Interestingly, this later 1964 release came after his highly successful run with Imperial Records had concluded, and it appeared as the B-side of the single “Heartbreak Hill.” Though the exact, definitive chart history for this specific 1964 single release can be elusive in a discography dominated by his earlier Imperial mega-hits like “Blueberry Hill” and “Ain’t That a Shame,” the very fact of its recording speaks volumes. It was a testament to the enduring power of the tune, and a nod to a standard that had already been cemented in the rock canon, especially by Wilbert Harrison’s 1959 chart-topping version. Fats Domino took a song already great and filtered it through his signature, inimitable New Orleans style.
For those of us who came of age with the dawn of Rock and Roll, Fats Domino was more than just a hitmaker; he was the warm, welcoming voice and the rolling piano that eased the music’s transition into the mainstream. His version of “Kansas City” perfectly embodies the simplicity and joyous sincerity that defined his career. The meaning is wonderfully straightforward: it’s the enthusiastic, almost desperate declaration of a man on a mission. He’s heading to Kansas City because, as the lyrics tell us with a wink and a smile, they have a “crazy way of lovin’ there,” and he’s determined to “get me one.” This isn’t just about travel; it’s about a pilgrimage to a romantic promised land, a place where the corner of “Twelfth Street and Vine” is an almost mythological meeting point, a place for his “Kansas City baby” and a bottle of “Kansas City wine.” The commitment is absolute: “Well, I might take a plane, I might take a train, but if I have to walk, I’m going just the same.” It’s the sheer, exuberant optimism of the 1950s and 60s distilled into a few bluesy piano chords and a charismatic vocal.
The story behind the song’s creation by Leiber and Stoller has its own charm, but Fats Domino made the song his own with his gentle, yet insistent performance. Where others might have sounded frantic, Domino sounds utterly resolute and charming. His vocal delivery, that unmistakable, slightly slurred, buttery-smooth timbre, wraps around the lyrics, making the entire journey seem less like a mad dash and more like a pleasant, inevitable destiny. The accompanying musical arrangement, with that unmistakable New Orleans drum beat and the honking saxophone break, provides a rich, warm backdrop. It’s a track that feels like the height of summer, a juke joint full of good people, and a carefree attitude that simply refused to be held down. Listening to “Kansas City” today, especially the version from the album Getaway With Fats Domino (which included this track), is a lovely, reflective moment—a brief return to a more innocent, foundational era of American music where a simple piano chord could launch a thousand dreams. It’s a nostalgia not just for a song, but for the youthful, unfettered spirit that Fats Domino embodied so perfectly.
Oldies Songs