Mom always said it was the devil's music. So why shouldn't the father of '50s rock 'n' roll look like every white kid's slumber-party dream of Satan? A slim body, supple as sin. Wavy hair, drenched in Valvoline and just full enough to hide those telltale horns. A face already etched with pain and promises. Cocoa-color skin drawn taut over Jack Palance cheekbones. A smile that offered a great time on the way down. Chuck Berry might sing about School Days and Johnny B. Goode, but teens knew that his songs -- from the opening guitar riff through the four-on-the-floor chorus...
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