Elvis Blog Archives — October 2008
Entry #30: Posted October 2, 2008 Recently, I was scanning through a stack of newspaper reviews of Elvis Presley road concerts in the 1970s. One of them caught my eye. It was Jan Jarboe’s review of Elvis’s appearance in San Antonio on October 8, 1974. Her opening line got my attention: “Elvis Presley and I go back a long time—even if he doesn’t know it.” I skimmed over her description of Elvis’s recent concert, as, honestly, it was no different from those to be found in hundreds of other Presley concert reviews of that era. Instead, I was looking for details of how Jan and Elvis “go back a long time,” and I found it, starting in the fifth paragraph. “My fascination with Presley,” she wrote, “started just about the time the rest of the world lost interest in him, the middle 1960s.” Now Jan really had my interest, since I, too, first became an Elvis fan during the movie years of the sixties. “Reared by fairly strict religious fundamentalist parents,” she explained, “Presley was the only one allowable ‘sin’ in my house. I suppose my parents figured anybody that sings ‘How Great Thou Art’ with as much sincerity as Elvis does, can’t be all bad. It wasn’t easy being an Elvis fan on a college campus during the militant 1960s. It was tough, real tough. In fact, it was almost equal to supporting the bombing of Cambodia or wearing dresses—not blue jeans—to classes.” Boy, could I relate to Jan’s comments about the difficulty of being an Elvis fan in the mid-sixties. Maybe you can as well, but I know many Elvis fans these days are young people, who came to him in his Las Vegas incarnation of the seventies, or even later, and so have no idea what it was like to be an Elvis fan in the sixties. I first became an Elvis fan sometime in 1962, but I can’t remember how or why it happened. My brother and a couple of friends had Presley records, so I certainly had been exposed to him earlier. Perhaps at age 13, I had finally matured to the point where I could appreciate Elvis’s music. When the Elvis lightning bolt hit me, his current hit single was “Return to Sender,” and Girls! Girls! Girls! was playing in theaters. Instantly, I became a devout Elvis fan, spending all my newspaper route profits on his past LPs and 45s. At the start, life as an Elvis fan was great. He was still the hottest singer on the charts in 1962, with “Return to Sender” being but the latest in a long line of top 5 hits since he left the army two years earlier. Of course, I didn’t know at the time that Presley’s career was leveling off at the very time I became a fan. “Return to Sender” reached #2 on Billboard’s pop chart, but after that his singles, with a couple of exceptions, started to stall further and further down on the charts. To be honest, most of Elvis’s subsequent singles did not measure up to the material he had put out prior to 1963. But the main reason Elvis started slipping on the charts was the arrival of the Beatles and the accompanying “British Invasion.” As a devout Elvis fan, I hated the Beatles when came on the scene. They were a threat to my guy. My brother gave me his Elvis records, grew his hair long, and became a Beatles worshipper. The friends who had been Elvis fans went over to the dark side as well. A particularly distressing event occurred sometime in 1964, when Spokane’s main rock ’n’ roll radio station conducted a call-in popularity poll between Elvis and the Beatles. I can still recall a DJ announcing the final results of the poll. “The winner—and the new Kings of Rock ’n’ roll—are the Beatles!” From that point on, my frustration grew as Elvis clearly started losing relevancy as a pop icon. His records were played less and less on the radio, and stations abandoned their yearly tributes on his birthday. He continued making movies regularly, but both quality and ticket sales steadily dropped off. While all of this was happening, I increasingly found myself isolated as an Elvis fan. Before I could always find a friend or two who would go to see a new Elvis movie with me. As I recall, though, Roustabout in 1964 was the last Elvis movie I was able to talk a friend into watching with me. After that, for four years I went to see Presley pictures alone. Honestly, throughout my high school years, I never knew another Elvis fan. But my devotion never strayed. During those years, I purchased every record and paid to see every movie. When I went off to college in the fall of 1967, I took my Elvis records with me. At the University of Washington, my fraternity brothers, who were into the Doors, Steppenwolf, Joplin, Hendrix, and the like, enjoyed teasing me about my Elvis obsession. I guess I could understand how Presley meant little in the lives of most young people then. I mean, Elvis was still making films like Clambake and Speedway, while college students were protesting for civil rights and for an end to the Vietnam War. In the winter of 1968, however, Elvis started to regain some of the musical relevancy he had lacked for years. First came his TV special, which became known, aptly, as his “Comeback Special.” Single releasees “If I Can Dream” and “In the Ghetto” were message songs that tapped into the feelings of many socially active young people. Elvis quit Hollywood for the concert stage in Las Vegas. “Suspicious Minds” became his first #1 single in seven years. My fraternity brothers stopped razzing me about Elvis; some even began coming into my room to listen to his music. It was a great time again to be an Elvis fan. Then came the ultimate payoff. During my senior year, on November 12, 1970, Elvis brought his show to Seattle. To see him perform live on stage was a dreamlike experience. It was truly a reward, not only for me, but also for Jan Jarboe and for thousands like us. That one performance was well worth the long, lean years we had remained loyal to him. It confirmed the faith I had always had in Elvis Presley. — Alan Hanson
Entry #31: Posted October 9, 2008 I received an email message a few months ago from an Elvis fan who had read my book, Elvis ’57: The Final Fifties Tours. She had some very nice things to say about the book, which modesty prohibits me from repeating here. Then she expressed the hope that I would write a similar book about Elvis’s 1956 tours. My response was that, without ruling out the possibility completely, it was very unlikely I would write such a book for two reasons. First, it took me two years to do the research for Elvis ’57, which covers the 18 cities he played that year. In 1956 Elvis performed in 79 cities. That’s a ton of newspaper microfilm to look through. Second, I’m not inclined to put in several years of research on a new Elvis book when I’m still a long ways from making a profit on my first one. Still, for some time now I have been gathering information about Elvis’s personal appearances during his break out year of 1956. I’m doing it mainly because I’m an Elvis fan, and I enjoy finding new articles about him. Also, it provides me information for use in these weekly blog entries and for other articles on elvis-history-blog.com. For the 1956 period, I’m using the same primary source I did for the 1957 tours—newspaper archives on microfilm. Obviously, I can’t travel to visit the libraries in all of the 79 cities Elvis played in 1956. What I do is utilize my local library’s inter-library loan program. My library borrows newspaper microfilm from various sources around the country, and that allows me to view it locally. I’m a linear person, so I started requesting microfilm from the cities Elvis played in January 1956, with the intention of following him through to the end of the year. To this point, I’ve only been able to track Elvis’s personal appearances through the first two months of 1956. What I’ve learned so far is that during the early part of that year Elvis was still flying under the press’s radar. In local newspapers, there were always advertisements announcing Elvis’s coming appearance. Very rarely, though, did a follow up article about the show itself appear in any of those papers. While teenagers had tuned into Elvis and excitement was beginning to follow him wherever he went, it was reasonable that newspapers didn’t deem his concerts worthy of coverage at that point. After all, Elvis was just beginning to emerge as a player on the national entertainment scene. His first network TV appearance wasn’t until the end of January on the Dorsey Brothers Stage Show program. He sang “Heartbreak Hotel” on the show for the first time on February 11. All four of his Stage Show appearances in January and February 1956 received low ratings compared to Perry Como’s network show in the same time slot. So, it’s understandable that local newspapers were ignoring him in the first two months of 1956. The earliest local newspaper review of a 1956 Presley concert that I have been able to find so far appeared in the Winston-Salem Journal on Friday, February 17. The day before Elvis had played three shows at the Carolina Theater in Winston-Salem, N.C. Staff reporter Roy Thompson’s review appeared on page 2 of the Journal. As you can imagine, Thompson was completely blind-sided by Elvis’s performance. Later in the year, after Elvis had appeared on the Milton Bearle, Steve Allen, and Ed Sullivan shows, local reviewers had an idea of what to expect when Elvis came to town. But in mid-February, Thompson was clearly dumbfounded by what he saw. His review began as follows: “A most remarkable young man named Elvis Presley came to town yesterday and rocked the staid old Carolina Theater to its very dignified roots. Mr. Presley must be seen if he is to be believed—and even then he seems somewhat unbelievable. He plays (‘beats’ would be a better word) the guitar. He sings (almost any other word would be better there). But, somehow, he wows ’em.” Thompson then attempted to describe in greater detail exactly what he saw and heard. “Mr. Presley is a part of the new musical phenomenon called ‘Rock ’n Roll.’ He slouches; he mugs; he bumps and grinds. He brings to the stage one of the most monumental conceits seen in these parts in many a day. But he produces, which makes the conceit all right." (Note: Thompson here is using the term "conceit" in a theatrical sense. It refers to an "artistic device or effect … designed to achieve a particular effect." In other words, Thompson found Elvis's manner of exciting his audience "monumental" in its originality.) Thompson continued, “Singing such Twentieth Century classics as ‘Blue Suede Shoes’ and ‘Tutti Frutti,’ he sent a matinee houseful of teen-agers and other music-lovers into an orgy of hand-clapping, foot-stamping and tonsil-straining screaming. It is extremely doubtful that the Carolina Theater has ever seen a more enthusiastic audience.” After leaving the theater, Thompson noticed another element of the growing Presley phenomenon. “And when the show was over,” he wrote, “the long-lonely stage door on North Marshall Street had a cluster of excited youngsters waiting, hoping, praying for a closer look and, perhaps, an autograph from the handsome young man.” In his review, Thompson also noted that the other performers in Elvis’s troupe—Justin Tubb, the Louvin Brothers, the Carter Sisters, Benny Martin—“all got applause and whistles enough to satisfy most performers in the spotlight.” But, Thompson concluded, nothing could rival the excitement generated by Elvis. “The frenzy, the hysteria, the wild and wonderful shrieks of sheer joy … These were reserved for the remarkable young man with the long hair, the pearly teeth, the stylish slouch, the incredible conceit: Elvis Presley.” — Alan Hanson
Entry #32: Posted October 16, 2008 I love to get questions and comments from readers of this blog and other sections of Elvis-History-Blog. Often they provide subjects for this forum, as is the case this week. Recently I received the following message from “Echo.” “I would just like to tell you have much I enjoy reading your blogs and receiving your Elvis History E-Zine. Thank you for posting this site. I have a question I hope you can answer. I have been trying to get the answer for some time now and have been unable to get one to my satisfaction. In 1955, ‘I Forgot to Remember to Forget You’ was released by Sun and then re-released by RCA. This song went to #1 on the country charts. Now the question. Did it go to #1 as a Sun release or an RCA release and did it go to #1 before ‘Heartbreak Hotel’? All the info I have says that ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ was Elvis’ first #1 hit, but if the former went to #1 first, then to my way of thinking ‘I Forgot’ was his first #1. Also, do you know the date it went #1?” Fortunately, my local public library has Billboard magazine archives on microfilm going back to the 1955-1956 period. So, after a little research, I was able to find the answers to Echo’s questions. A major Billboard service over the years has been to gather data on listeners and buyers of recorded music and present it in chart form in the magazine’s weekly issues. In the 1950s Billboard compiled and printed numerous weekly record charts, each with a specific focus. For instance, in the music fields of pop, country and western, and rhythm and blues, Billboard provided three charts for each: “Best Sellers in Stores,” “Most Played in Juke Boxes,” and “Most Played by Jockeys.” In the largest commercial sector of pop music, two other charts were provided: “Honor Roll of Hits,” which listed 30 songs, and “The Nation’s Top Tunes,” which compiled the country’s 100 most popular 45 rpm records. While other publications, such as Variety, also have printed record charts, Billboard’s listings have come to be consider the industry standard when comparing recording artists and their records. Now, let’s consider Echo’s concerns. First, she is correct that “I Forgot to Remember To Forget” was issued both by Sun and RCA in 1955. Backed with “Mystery Train,” it was the final of five Elvis singles issued by Sun in 1954-1955. After its release in September 1955, Billboard selected the single as both a “Spotlight” pick and as one of “This Week’s Best Buys.” In its September 10, 1955, issue, Billboard commented on the record as follows: “With each release, Presley has been coming more and more quickly to the forefront. His current record has wasted no time in establishing itself. Already it appears on the Memphis and Houston territorial charts. It is also reported selling well in Richmond, Atlanta, Durham, Nashville and Dallas. Both sides are moving, with ‘I Forgot’ currently on top.” The Sun release first charted the following week (September 17, 1955) at #14 on Billboard’s list of C&W “Best Sellers in Stores” and at #10 on the C&W “Most Played by Jockeys” chart. It first charted on the C&W “Most Played on Juke Boxes” at #10 on October 8. It first made all three C&W lists at the same time on November 5 (“Sellers” #7, “Juke Boxes” #9, “Jockeys” #12). The Sun release of “I Forgot” remained within the top 10 on all three charts the rest of November. On November 21, 1955, however, the single underwent a metamorphosis. On that day RCA Victor purchased Elvis’s contract from Sam Phillips. As part of the deal, RCA obtained the rights to all of Presley’s Sun recordings. Soon after, RCA pressed and distributed a single of “I Forgot to Remember to Forget” and “Mystery Train” on its own label. As an RCA release, “I Forgot” made a small advance on the C&W charts in December 1955. On January 17, 1956, it was at #3 on “Sellers” and “Jukes” charts, and #4 on the “Jockeys” list. The final push it needed to get to #1 was provided, ironically, by “Heartbreak Hotel,” it’s competitor for the honor of Elvis’s first #1 record. Presley appeared on the Dorsey Brothers national TV program, “Stage Show,” four times in January and February 1956. He sang “Heartbreak Hotel” on the February 11 show. His performance not only launched that record up the pop charts, but also boosted the demand for his only other record out at that time. On February 25, 1956, “I Forgot to Remember to Forget” reached #1 on the C&W “Best Sellers in Stores” Billboard chart. The next week it topped the “Most Played in Juke Boxes” list. Ultimately, it spent 2 weeks atop the “Sellers” chart and 5 weeks at #1 on the “Juke Boxes” list. It never did reach #1 on the “Most Played by Jockeys” chart, peaking at #4. “I Forgot” was listed on at least one of Billboard’s three C&W charts for 40 straight weeks, finally dropping off of all three on June 23, 1956. Now, let’s compare “I Forgot’s” chart success with that of “Heartbreak Hotel.” Elvis’s first new single release for RCA first appeared on a Billboard chart on March 3, 1956, when it entered the Top 100 list at #68. Just two weeks later, it reached #1 on the C&W “Best Sellers” chart, displacing Presley’s own recording of “I Forgot to Remember to Forget.” By April 28, it was #1 on all three C&W charts. Then on May 5, “Heartbreak Hotel” reached #1 on the Top 100 pop chart, where it remained for seven consecutive weeks. On May 12, “Heartbreak Hotel” established a Billboard record. That week it was #1 on eight charts at the same time—the Top 100, “Honor Roll of Hits,” and both the pop and C&W “Sellers,” “Juke Boxes,” and “Jockeys” charts. By mid-April “Heartbreak Hotel” had sold a million copies, making it Elvis’s first gold record. So, to summarize the answers to Echo’s questions: “I Forgot to Remember to Forget” was the first Elvis single to reach #1 on a Billboard chart when it topped the magazine’s C&W “Best Sellers in Stores” list on February 25, 1956. It did so as an RCA release. “Heartbreak Hotel” first reached #1 on a Billboard chart three weeks later on March 17, 1956, when it topped the same C&W “Best Sellers” list. It wasn’t until seven weeks later that it reached #1 on Billboard’s Top 100 pop chart. So … If the question is, “What was Elvis’s first Billboard #1 record?” the answer is “I Forgot to Remember to Forget.” If the question is, “What was Elvis’s first #1 record on the big daddy of all record charts, Billboard’s Top 100?” the answer is “Heartbreak Hotel.” Echo, to my way of thinking, your “way of thinking” has been vindicated. However, I’m sure there will always be some Elvis fans who would argue with you. — Alan Hanson
Entry #33: Posted October 23, 2008 I have to admit that I have never liked the sound of Frank Sinatra’s voice. Despite all the pronouncements of Frank’s smooth delivery and how he was the best at phrasing lyrics, I’ve always thought that Elvis was a better singer in both respects. Then, despite the two men being a generation apart, there was always the public perception that they were somehow in competition with each other, and I’ve never liked anyone that others thought was better than Elvis. (A childish reaction, I admit.) In the early years of Elvis’s booming success, journalists asked both men to comment on the other. Interviewed on the set of Pal Joey in June 1957, Sinatra named Pat Boone as “the best of the new talent.” Asked specifically about Elvis, Frank said it was too early to judge whether or not he was a “freak.” He added, “They said I was a freak when I first hit, but I’m still around. Presley has no training at all. When he goes into something serious, a bigger kind of singing, we’ll find out if he is a singer. He has a natural animalistic talent.” Elvis, on the other hand, was very guarded when he spoke about Sinatra in the fifties. During nearly all of his press conferences preceding his 1957 concert appearances, Elvis was asked to name his favorite singers. Among them he listed crooners like Dean Martin and Nat King Cole, but not Sinatra. At an April press conference in Canada, he was asked about Sinatra in particular. “I can take him or leave him,” was Elvis’s noncommittal response. In Los Angeles on October 28, 1957, however, Elvis spoke pointedly about some comments Sinatra had recently made about rock ’n’ roll in a French magazine. Frank called rock ’n’ roll “the most brutal, ugly, degenerate, vicious form of expression it has been my displeasure to hear” and declared that “it is sung, played and written for the most part by cretinous goons.” Although Sinatra didn’t mention Elvis directly, as the reigning “King of Rock ’n’ roll,” Presley was duty-bound to respond. “I admire the man,” Elvis said, choosing his words carefully. “He has a right to his own opinions. He is a great success and a fine actor, but I don’t think he should have said it. I don’t think anyone has the right to take potshots at something that is definitely a trend. It’s an American development, just like crooning was a few years back.” Of course, any animosity between the two entertainers (if any really existed in the first place) was forgotten when Elvis made his first public appearance after leaving the army in 1960 on Frank’s network TV special. The two men seemed very much at ease performing together on stage that night. Afterwards they went their separate ways and apparently had little personal contact with each other over the years. Will Friedwald, the author of seven books on music and popular culture, discussed the Sinatra-Presley connection in an article published in the February/March 2005 issue of American Heritage magazine. Friedwald contends that one difference in the careers of Sinatra and Presley is that Elvis’s catalog of recorded songs looks meager compared to Sinatra’s. Of course, Frank’s longer lifespan meant he recorded more songs than Elvis, but Friedwald was referring more to the disparity in the quality of songs the two men recorded. He put the blame on Elvis’s publishing arrangement. When Elvis first signed with RCA Victor in 1956, Colonel Parker had the firm of Hill and Range create a song publishing company for Presley. To maximize his client’s income, Parker insisted that Elvis record only songs for which Hill and Range owned the publishing rights. And throughout his career, Elvis rarely ventured outside H&R for recording material. Friedwald believes this restriction kept Elvis from recording many songs that would have been perfect for him. Sinatra, on the other hand, did not limit himself. “Sinatra had also owned publishing houses,” Friedwald explained, “but unlike Presley, that hadn’t stopped Sinatra from consistently recording the best songs he could find. Unfortunately, Presley was importuned to waste too much energy making mediocre songs—which he usually owned a piece of—sound better than they were.” One related similarity between the two singers was that neither one claimed to be a serious songwriter. “The strength of both,” Friedwald contended, “was that they could interpret a song written by someone else, and make it into something considerably more magical, and even personal, than the guy who wrote it. Eddy Arnold was a first-rate country singer, but even he can’t touch Presley’s reading of his own ‘You Don’t Know Me.’” Friedwald mentioned a conversation Frank Sinatra once had with his daughter, Nancy, a good friend of Elvis’s and his costar in the 1968 movie Speedway. Her father was critical of Elvis because he felt he’d never taken the opportunity through the years to grow as an artist. Nancy argued that the people around Elvis never allowed him to explore new creative avenues. “Sinatra rejected that excuse,” said Friedwald. “From his perspective, we can’t blame him. The old man would never let anybody stand in his way in terms of choosing a song or finessing an arrangement or a recording mix to perfection. And this conversation represents a rare occasion in which Frank Sinatra discussed Presley as even potentially an equal or kindred spirit. But he was. They both were only children who demanded the company of an entourage around them when they grew up; they both were extremely devoted to their mothers; they were among the relatively few singers who attained superstardom in Hollywood; and they both had a lot of comebacks.” It wasn’t as if Elvis didn’t care about how RCA mixed his recordings once he left the studio. Joe Esposito has described how Elvis worked with the studio engineers to mix his recordings, and then had an acetate pressed so he could compare it to the version that RCA released. He was often upset when the company altered the sound he created, but he rarely did anything about it. In such cases, Sinatra did do something about it. Of Elvis, Friedwald noted, “Like Sinatra before him, he wanted to work only with the best actors and musicians and with superior songs. The difference between him and Sinatra was one of temperament. Sinatra, like Ray Charles, constantly made his own opportunities, and heaven help you if you got in his way. Perhaps Presley was too nice and civil a guy. Perhaps to stick to your standards in Hollywood, you had to be something of a gangster.” Certainly both Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra have achieved iconic status decades after their heydays. Both continue to make new fans who were not even born when their heroes died. Their styles may have differed, but their names will forever appear together at the top of the list of “The 20th Century’s Greatest Entertainers.” — Alan Hanson
Entry #34: Posted October 30, 2008 In last week’s post about the Elvis Presley-Frank Sinatra connection, I made reference to an article that appeared in American Heritage magazine in 2005. That article by Will Friedwald was titled “Elvis Today: The King lives on—but he’s not who you always thought he was.” Friedwald’s comments about Elvis and Sinatra made up just a small portion of the article. This week I’d like to discuss the rest of the article because it looks at Elvis’s musical legacy from a unusual point of view. Most Elvis fans today fit into two categories. The first is those who became Elvis fans early in life while Elvis was still alive. We followed his career, mourned his death, and have remained loyal to his memory through the decades. The other group includes younger fans, most of whom were toddlers or not even born when Elvis died. The majority of these Elvis fans seem to have inherited their love of Elvis from their parents. Will Friedwald falls into neither category. In fact, I would categorize him as an Elvis “appreciator” rather than as an Elvis “fan.” A note at the end of his article explains that he is “the jazz reviewer for the New York Sun and the author of seven books on music and popular culture.” So, he certainly has the credentials to comment on Elvis’s musical legacy. “My father was born the same year as Elvis,” Friedwald explains, “and I came along a season or so after the King returned from the Army. My dad was slightly too old to be part of the demographic that made Elvis a superstar, and I was too young to get it.” Friedwald first became interested in popular music as a teenager in the 1970s. He recalls, “One thing that I did have in common with most rock fans of my generation was that none of us knew what to make of Elvis Presley. By the time of his death he was a joke to high school kids born in the sixties.” After ignoring Elvis for decades, Friedwald finally gave into the prodding of two fellow music writers and looked into what the Presley mystique was all about. In 2004 he got all of RCA’s Essential Masters Elvis box sets. “By the time I finished listening to them, I was completely hooked,” he confessed. “I was amazed by what I heard. After a lifetime of not getting it, I finally experienced my very own Elvis epiphany, and the mystery of why he is considered one of the great pop performers of all time was revealed to me.” That sounds like Friedwald suddenly became a devout Elvis fan, but the fact is that he was a music historian who appreciated many kinds of music. And so his perspective was different from most newcomers to Presley’s music. For example, he rejects the commonly held notion that Elvis represented the beginning of a music trend. (“Before Elvis, there was nothing,” John Lennon had said.) “It’s plain that both rhythm and blues (and black artists in general) and country and western had been making significant inroads into the pop mainstream long before the Presley explosion of 1956,” Friedwald reminds us. In fact, back in 1956 Elvis himself often explained that he had not created rock ’n’ roll, and that his kind of music had been around for a long time. Still, we Elvis fans like to feel that somehow the whole thing started with our guy. As for Elvis being the first white pop singer who sounded like a black man, Friedwald contends that other singers (he gives Frankie Lane and Johnny Ray as examples) had already achieved success by patterning themselves after black rhythm and blues singers. And Friedwald also contends that Elvis was not the first pop singer to capitalize on the growing popularity of country and western music. He gives two examples. “Patti Page was best known in her day for straddling both the pop and country charts, and her ‘Tennessee Waltz’ was a blockbuster because it appealed to New Yorkers and Okies alike. There was also Guy Mitchell, who had a vaguely Western sound and made hits out of manufactured folk songs.” The notion that Elvis had anything in common back then with the likes of Patti Page and Guy Mitchell is heresy to most Elvis fans (me included). In fact, Friedwald seemingly spends the first half of his article debunking all claims of Presley’s originality in the 1950s. Reading on, however, the author’s apparent objective was only to clear up some historical misconceptions before discussing Elvis’s true contributions to popular music in the second half of his article. “Presley’s innovation wasn’t that he sounded either black or like a hillbilly;” Friedwald explained, “it was the brilliant way he drew on all three strains of pop music: blues, country, and traditional ‘classic’ pop (that of the crooners, big bands, and Broadway shows).” It’s amusing how Friedwald makes the connection between Elvis and crooners Bing Crosby and Dean Martin. “If you start with Crosby,” he theorizes, “and you add occasional Italian curse words and mannerisms intended to suggest states of inebriation, then you’ve got Dean Martin. Take away those Neapolitanisms, replace with a whole lot o’ shakin’, and essentially you’ve got Elvis.” For those who like to see Elvis as a clear break from the past in popular music, Friedwald does allow that Presley represents one clear point of demarcation in the field. It was the sudden shift in marketing pop music away from adults and toward teenagers. Presley’s first recordings on the Sun label were meant to appeal to a wide range of age groups, according to Friedwald, but as soon as RCA realized Elvis was selling millions of records to teenagers, they began dumbing down Elvis’s material to appeal to adolescents alone. Friedwald names songs like “Teddy Bear,” “The Girl of My Best Friend,” and “Wear My Ring Around Your Neck” as representative of the “most forgettable aspect of his legacy.” As for Elvis, Friedwald believes that he never considered himself a rebel. “Far from wanting to antagonize grownups,” Friedwald explains, “he addressed everybody older than he was as ‘mister’ and ‘ma’am.’ He was a sweet-natured, levelheaded boy … and he deported himself more like Perry Como than like Jim Morrison.” The writer’s sense was that when Elvis emerged from the Army he was tired of rehashing his old rock ’n’ roll hits and began broadening his horizons. “He continued to grow as an artist after 1960, and to my ears his post-Army work continued to get better and better.” Friedwald points to Elvis’s branching out into adaptions of Italian tunes (“It’s Now or Never”), Hawaiian music (“Blue Hawaii”), samba and bossa nova (“Viva Las Vegas”), and gospel music. The latter represented Presley’s “greatest work,” judged the writer. Friedwald ends his article with a twist on the nature of Elvis’s musical legacy. It challenges the long-held belief that Presley’s most influential work was done in the fifties. Still, it’s a conclusion that most Elvis fans can agree with. “His death obviously left a gap that no one has been able to fill. And after all these years it seems clear that Elvis Presley was not he beginning of something but the end. John Lennon had it the wrong way around: After Elvis, there was nothing.” — Alan Hanson Go to Current Blog
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