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It's May 3rd, 1958, and the arena in Boston, Massachusetts is packed with screaming young rock-and-roll fans.

Alan Fried watches happily as Jerry Lee Lewis frantically pounds on his piano, bashing out his biggest hit, Great Walls of Fire.

Out on the arena, scuffed par-k floor, the kids are dancing in the aisles, some of them knocking over folding chairs as they try to push closer to the stage.

It's chaos, which is exactly what Fried wants this show to be.

Fried is a radio DJ by trade, one of the nation's most popular, thanks to his association with rock-and-roll, which is now all the rage.

To build up his name and earn extra money, he often hosts rock concerts like this one.

Usually, despite their frenzied energy, Fried shows go off without a hitch, but here in Boston, that hasn't always been the case.

Boston is a conservative, staunchly Catholic town that doesn't take kindly to Fried's music or his young, scruffy, racially mixed audiences.

Fried's last show here two years ago, Boston's mayor, band rock-and-roll shows entirely.

But as soon as the band was lifted, Fried couldn't wait to come back.

He loves these Boston kids as much as he hates the city's blue blood authorities.

They deserve to see Jerry Lee Lewis in action as much as anyone.

Fried's marvelling at Lewis's manic energy when one of his assistants rushes over with a concerned look.

He yells into Fried's ear over the music.

Get him back in their seats, and we're going to have trouble. Cops.

Fried peers into the darkness at the back of the arena and sees them.

Boston cops, in their blue uniforms and peaked caps, gathering in large numbers.

Some already have their billy clubs out. He realizes he has to take control of the situation.

Fried runs onto the stage and snatches the microphone, staying next to Lewis's piano.

Lewis and his band shamel to a halt.

Fried flashes his best smile and tries to play cool.

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