The Hit-Making Machine
By the mid-1950s, the partnership of Antoine "Fats" Domino and producer Dave Bartholomew was pure gold. Working out of Cosimo Matassa's legendary J&M Studio in New Orleans, they had developed a formula that was making Domino a star. Bartholomew, a sharp
bandleader and disciplined arranger, knew how to craft a hit. Domino, with his easygoing charm and rolling piano style, was the perfect vessel. Bartholomew brought the structure; Domino brought the soul. Together, they had already landed major R&B hits like "The Fat Man," a track many consider one of the very first rock and roll records. Their process was built on mutual respect, but also a creative tension that often bubbled just beneath the surface.
A Song Called 'Ain't That a Shame'
In 1955, Domino and Bartholomew brought a new song into the studio. It was a simple, heartfelt tune about lost love called "Ain't That a Shame." As Bartholomew later explained, their philosophy was to keep things simple enough for kids to sing along. The song was quintessential Domino: a relatable lament delivered with an infectious, upbeat rhythm. But as they began to work out the arrangement, a disagreement arose. It was a classic studio conflict—a dispute over tempo and feel. Domino, the artist, had a specific vision for how the song should sound. Bartholomew, the producer tasked with delivering a commercial hit, had his own ideas.
The Showdown in the Studio
The details of the argument have become part of rock and roll lore. Domino reportedly wanted to play the song in a slow, mournful, bluesy style. Bartholomew, ever the pragmatist, insisted it needed a much faster, more commercial tempo to get radio play and ignite dance floors. The producer was known for his professional, no-nonsense approach in the studio, a stark contrast to Domino's more laid-back demeanor. The argument escalated until Domino, frustrated that his vision was being overruled, did the unthinkable: he walked out of the session. For a moment, it seemed the song, and perhaps the fruitful partnership, was dead.
History on Three Counts
Cooler heads eventually prevailed. According to the legend, it was Bartholomew who found the compromise. He suggested they try it his way but with a twist. He instructed the drummer to start the song with three powerful, attention-grabbing snare hits before the first verse. This explosive intro—"You made [BLAM! BLAM!] me cry"—was a signature Bartholomew touch, designed to hook listeners from the very first second. Domino returned, they cut the track at the faster tempo, and the rest is history. The song became Fats Domino's first major crossover hit, landing in the Top 10 on the pop charts and cementing his status as a rock and roll superstar.
A Whitewashed Cover and a Lasting Legacy
The song's impact was immediate, so much so that it was quickly covered by white pop singer Pat Boone. In the segregated landscape of 1950s radio, Boone's sanitized version initially got more airplay and even hit number one. Boone famously wanted to change the title to the more grammatically correct "Isn't That a Shame," but was talked out of it. While this practice of white artists covering Black R&B hits is now viewed critically, Domino bore no ill will. He was grateful for the royalties and the exposure. He once playfully introduced Boone at a concert by flashing a large diamond ring and telling the crowd, "Pat Boone bought me this ring."
