A fiery collision of blues instinct and rock bravado where two guitar giants turn a classic into a celebration of raw, kinetic energy
When Alvin Lee & Leslie West joined forces for their spirited 1989 recording of “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Goin’ On”, they were not simply covering a rock and roll standard. They were resurrecting it, electrifying it and imprinting their identities on a piece of musical history that had already traveled from rhythm and blues roots to the mainstream through figures like Jerry Lee Lewis. By the late 1980s both artists were seasoned legends, known for stretching blues vocabulary into the realm of heavy rock and guitar heroism. Their version did not chart or arrive tied to a major album release in the traditional sense, yet it found its meaning in the sheer force of personality and musicianship each brought into the room.
The track unfolds like a jam born out of instinct rather than calculation. It feels spontaneous, as if the music existed before the recording button was ever pressed. Alvin Lee’s playing is nimble, fast and full of sparks, reflecting the same turbo charged energy that made Ten Years After unforgettable at Woodstock twenty years earlier. His tone slices through the mix with speed and elegance, a signature blend of precision and fire. Leslie West counters with something thicker and earthier. His guitar speaks in wide vibrato and hefty bends, the kind that seem to carry the weight of a barroom floor and a lifetime of blues shows soaked in sweat and cigarette smoke.
That duality is what makes this performance compelling. Alvin Lee brings velocity. Leslie West brings gravity. Together they create balance. The blues framework of the song becomes a stage for conversation rather than competition. Riffs overlap, phrases answer one another and at moments it feels less like two musicians performing and more like two old souls speaking in the only language that feels natural to them.
Vocally the recording maintains the same spirit. Nothing is overly polished or revised into perfection. Instead the delivery feels loose, almost rowdy, as if the microphone were simply another participant in the room soaking in the energy. The original message of dance floor rebellion remains intact, but Alvin and Leslie infuse it with a harder edge, transforming the familiar rock and roll shuffle into something heavier, hotter and unmistakably personal.
Today this version stands as a reminder of what happens when mastery meets joy. It is not a reinvention meant to replace the original but a celebration of lineage. Two monumental guitarists looked back at rock’s earliest sparks and responded the only way musicians of their caliber could. They turned up the heat and played like nothing in the world mattered more than the electricity running through their hands.