Miscellaneous - June 2010

  by Lisa Torem

published: 1 / 6 / 2010

intro

In 'Rock Salt Row' Lisa Torem talks to another Pennyblackmusic writer about a different topic in rock. She and John Clarkson debate about whether Elvis really is the King of Rock 'n' Roll

Two Writers Season One Historic Moment Happy first birthday to Rock Salt Row! Elvis would have celebrated his half birthday shortly before the June edition as well. So, celebrating the great music of that golden decade, spanning mid 50s to mid 60s, it seems fitting to pose an important question. Is Elvis really the King? LISA This Tupelo, Mississippi-born child once stood on a chair to sing ‘Old Shep’ and, although he really wanted a bicycle or rifle, he ended up with a guitar for his tenth birthday. Elvis had this to say, “I took the guitar and I watched people, and I learned to play a little bit. But, I would never sing in public. I was very shy about it.” Don’t you love those famous last words? Little Elvis Presley was taunted and called a “trashy” kid because he played “hillbilly” music. When thirteen, his family moved to Memphis. In 1954, Sun Records owner Sam Phillips, in an attempt to bring African-American music to a wider audience, set out to find a white performer who could do the genre justice. Scotty Moore and Bill Black accompanied Presley to an audition, and at first, the business man was unimpressed. But, when Presley launched into the wild ‘That’s All Right (Mama)' Phillips saw the spark. I stood on the X where Elvis recorded that song, and, yes, it was a thrill. 1956's ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ (Axton/Durden/Presley) was Presley’s first RCA single which became a number one hit, and was the only song in which Presley had a role in the composition. In June 1956 he performed ‘Hound Dog.’ Other popular covers were ‘Money Honey’ and ‘Shake Rattle and Roll’ (Jesse Stone) and Ray Charles’ 1955 song ‘I Got A Woman’, ‘Lawdy Miss Clawdy’ (Lloyd Price), Little Richard’s ‘Tutti Frutti’ (La Bostrie and Penniman) and Carl Perkins’ Blue Suede Shoes.’ The 60s found Presley making Hollywood films centering around his hits. In 1977 he died at 42 years old. Granted, Elvis had amazing chemistry and a raw magnetism, but musically, Jerry Lee Lewis had better chops. In 1956 Sun Records recorded Lewis performing ‘Crazy Arms’ (Ray Price). Lewis derived his sound from Haney’s Big House, black juke joint, in Ferriday, Louisiana. He synthesized his piano bravado by watching local black entertainers play R & B, boogie-woogie, gospel and country; with a helping of country-boogie courtesy of Moon Mullican and Merrill Moore. In those Sun Records days, he played piano on Perkins’ ‘Matchbox’ and ‘Put Your Cat Clothes On.’ He put piano on a precipice; the world was still reeling from rock guitar. In 1957 he made his first TV appearance with ‘Whole Lotta Shakin’ Going On’ and shocked audiences with his stage antics. Jerry Lee Lewis was said to have stomped on the piano, set it on fire and made suggestive moves towards the instruments. Presley had become an icon after the more sedate Frank Sinatra-type idols had infused teen pop culture. In contrast, Presley was fresh, able to sing a ballad with genuine feel, and then make his voice sound like a mountain cougar’s snarl, and was definitely eye-candy for the average teen and even the parents. He had a great voice and style, too. But, the question of the day is, was he really the King? What makes a King anyway? Can you convince me that this title should remain undisputed? Chuck Berry had an arsenal of highly-suggestive moves, wrote some killer songs, played and originated a unique style of guitar which inspired overseas musicians and had a seductive smile, too. Why wasn’t he declared “his majesty?” Now, let me remind you, I’m in no way minimizing Presley’s charisma, amazing voice or charm. But, king? I think that since it’s now almost forty years since his demise, it’s time to set the record straight. So, are you sure that this man is the honest to goodness King of Rock ‘n’ Roll or are you wavering? I’m throwing this heavy burden in your court in the hopes that you will take your job seriously and help us find the answer. JOHN There is a wonderful line on the Blue Nile’s ‘God Bless You, Kid’, one of the songs on their 1996 album, ‘Peace at Last’. “It feels like Memphis after Elvis/There’s nothing going on.” I thought that I would get that in, firstly because it is one of my favourite ever rock lyrics, and secondly because, while that song is not really about Elvis, it captures perfectly all the numbness, despair, grief and even boredom that comes after a monumental, but shock event. I was eleven years old at the time, three or four days into the start of my first year of secondary school, when I heard that Elvis had died. I read about it before leaving for school on the 17th August 1977, the morning after he died, on the front page of ‘The Scotsman’ newspaper which my parents had delivered daily. While I knew who Elvis was, and had seen now-what-I-see was the rather lamentable ‘Roustabout’ a few months before on the TV and loved it, that (and the TV footage that transpired from outside Graceland later on that day) was the first time it really hit home in my eleven year old mind just how popular Elvis really was. The then rather staid ‘The Scotsman’ never, ever published stuff about musicians and film stars, let alone on its front page. It would be wrong to say that nothing has gone on musically, in Memphis or anywhere else, since Elvis’ death. Of course it has, but music and rock ‘n’ roll in particular has never been the same. In my eyes (and it is just one opinion) he was the King. Part of that was undoubtedly because, like Buddy Holly, Eddie Cochran or even Gene Vincent, he lived long enough, with those thirty odd number one hits, countless albums and across the course of those terrible films, to produce a remarkable but consistent body of music. “Too old to rock and too young to die” as one T-shirt of the time put it, he, however, didn’t live long enough to sully it, to slip too much into parody and to start releasing very many mediocre records. Part of that too was his ordinariness. It is perhaps a strange thing to say about Elvis. Obviously his life was anything but ordinary. It was from its beginning a long series of remarkable incidents, the stillborn birth of his twin Jesse Garon, his overnight success at barely 21 with ‘Heartbreak Hotel’, Colonel Tom Parker, Graceland, those capes and suits so beloved of Elvis impersonators and the circumstances surrounding his death and burial in what was effectively his back garden. Of those three principal rock ‘n’ rollers, Chuck Berry, Jerry Lee Lewis and Presley, Elvis, however, was the most conventional and orthodox. He was by all accounts a rudimentary guitar player. Berry and Lewis were virtuoso musicians. They were also songwriters, while Elvis other than that one alleged line on ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ was not, relying on others to compose his songs for him. Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis, however, were and have still remained rebels – Berry, this proud and defiant black man continuing even now at the age of 82 to be a thorn in White America’s backside and to do whatever the hell he wants; Lewis, causing controversy with his young wives and pulling off the unfortunate double whammy of falling out with both God and the Devil. Elvis may have caused a small rumpus in his early career by shaking his hips on the TV, but never was a rebel, remaining throughout his life if anything over polite, the sort of fellow who made his parents proud, who was kind to his fans and whom girls and then women might dream of bringing home without worrying about them setting fire to Mom and Dad’s piano. I saw Chuck Berry, then aged 67, play a gig at the Usher Hall in Edinburgh in 1994. He did exactly an hour, his duck walk approximately forty minutes into the concert, and it concluded with him inviting several members of the audience, mainly young girls and a few Teds, onto the stage with him as he and his band played an extended version of ‘Roll Over Beethoven.’ It was great entertainment, but one was left feeling that this show while all very workmanlike if somewhat sleazy, could have taken place anytime, anywhere during the last forty years. I haven’t seen Lewis. He cancelled at the last minute when he was due to come to Edinburgh in the late 80s, but I would suspect that it may have been more of the same. Berry may have dabbled with the blues, and Lewis in the late 60s and 70s reinvented himself as a country artist. They have, however, remained the same, now and always somewhat larger-than-life rock ‘n’ rollers and hell raisers, getting old disgracefully rather than gracefully. Elvis was, however, in his ordinariness and, despite his shortcomings and the briefness of his career in comparison to the others, the one of the three who ironically moved on the most. He may not have been a songwriter, but he certainly had a knack for picking the right song and then embedding it with his presence. That is where I feel his true talent lay. He never got stuck in all the trappings and the clichés that comes with being a rebel either. With every year of two of his brief career, this most three-dimensional of singers progressed. His choice of songs from the very beginning reflected both his own concerns and those of the audience that grew up with him. On ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ he sounds like he is a thousand years old in his world weariness, but it captures totally that feeling, that devastation of knowledge that we are all at some point afflicted with when something drastic happens and we are forced to face up to the fact perhaps for the first time that the world is fundamentally an unfair and rotten place. Those other hits of the 50s, ‘Blue Suede Shoes’, ‘Hound Dog’ and ‘All Shook Up’ all depicted a young man finding his way through life and with fashion, girls and the world. Later on 1965’s ‘Crying in the Chapel’ highlighted his own Christian upbringing and continued religious belief, while 1969’s ‘In the Ghetto’ reflected upon his confusion and sorrow at that part of America which lived beneath the breadline. 1972’s ‘An American Trilogy’ was an ode to patriotism which even decided non-patriots found moving. ‘Always on my Mind’, recorded again in the same year and about the time that he separated from Priscilla, depicted the self-chastisement and guilt as well as agony that comes with the death of a long-term relationship. ‘Way Down’, the last single of his lifetime and released less than a week before his death, could meanwhile be seen as a depiction of his own desperate state in the final years of his life. The list goes on… Elvis was speaking not just for himself, but, more so than the other rock’n ‘rollers, for many of us in his worries, heartbreaks and subject matter. He may not have lived as long, may have been in many ways a more conventional character, but for that reason I think he deserves and continues to deserve the accolade of the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. LISA I’m going to throw another singer into the mix who wrote more than 100 songs and was inspired by Frank Sinatra. Elvis recorded a cover version of his original tune ‘I’ll Be There’ in 1969, though Bobby Darin had recorded it first in 1960. Bobby Darin, like Elvis, was known for his slick live performances, imaginative choreography and, like Elvis, unfortunately, was taken from this earth at far too early an age. Darin brought big band sound qualities into his arrangements and utilized a number of clever techniques when interpreting music. A YouTube video shows him playing piano and singing‘Splish Splash,’ as he plays, he out-smirks Jerry Lee. And, when he sings ‘Beyond the Sea’ he playfully intrigues his audience with catchy phrases; “it’s smoking, I ain’t joking…” In doing so he creates suspense and even jokes, “when is this song going to end?” I’m even thinking that ‘Beyond the Sea’ was the ‘That’s All Right (Mama)’ of the late 50s. The original version ‘La Mer’ was composed by French composer Louis Trenet. It was just like Darin to pull a song that had been tried and true in another culture and make it his own. Darin’s vocal embellishments were diverse; smooth, rough, cocky and gentle, all within a phrase, all executed naturally and in keeping with the meaning of the song. If his looks had equaled that of the “King”, would they both have shared the throne? Gene Pitney was another contender. His dreamy vocals and dramatic narratives on ‘Town Without Pity’ where he exclaims: “when you’re young and so in love like we…” or his fierce fatalistic ramblings on ‘Last Exit to Brooklyn’ tore at the heart strings. Yet, he was not as prolific… So, getting back to Elvis, John, your powers of persuasion have been grating at my conscience. So, I’m going to admit that Elvis was not only unique, but incomparable. His charisma was undeniable, his natural ear for melody was rare, and his ability to meld gospel, blues country and rockabilly influences was unprecedented. Also, he was a natural mimic. When singing ‘New Orleans’, in the movie ‘King Creole’ released in 1958, prior to joining the US Army, Elvis sounded remarkably like Louis Armstrong. “It makes you awful glad you were born a man/Live it up, love it up,” he crooned. Dressed in a stark white tux jacket and midnight black pants, silk eyelashes swept across his upper lids and his jet black pompadour glimmered. The soulful ballad ‘Don’t’ in the fall of ’57, finds Elvis uttering: “If you think that this is just a game I’m playing, if you think that I don’t mean every word I’m saying” and his tone is so self-assured and commanding, his manner is so creamy and convincing, it’s impossible to imagine any woman neglecting his advances. Yes, I’m weakening, but it doesn’t mean you’re off the hook completely. I can’t claim for one second that Elvis was ordinary or not a rebel. Yes, he appealed to the working class, did rise from humble beginnings and held an appreciation for the black entertainers that helped pave his way. Little Richard, in fact, said, “He was an integrator. They wouldn’t let black music through. He opened the door for black music.” Was Elvis unpretentious and generous of spirit? I agree with that. But, when Lisa Marie wanted to see snowfall, he flew her in his private planes to see snow, and then packed her up again to go home. Can one with those resources remain ordinary, someone so sought after, and someone whose strand of hair at a Sotheby’s auction could raise college tuition, remain ordinary? Elvis was a rebel. His gyrating hips were banned from the Ed Sullivan TV show. He must have had an attitude of defiance (though I do agree that his nature was much sweeter than that of his peers) to employ those moves during that innocent era. John Lennon, said, “Before Elvis, there was nothing.” That said, I will “return to sender” for some final comments. JOHN On the subject of Lisa Marie, I remember a television interview in the early 90s with her eventual and brief husband, Michael Jackson, in which he was asked why he kept putting his hand over his crotch when he was dancing. “Oh,” blustered Jackson, embarrassed. “I don’t mean to. I am not really conscious of it.” And I think that it was the same with his father-in-law. Elvis didn’t deliberately set out to gyrate his hips in a sexually provocative manner, although that very funny scene in ‘Forrest Gump’ might try and convince you otherwise, anymore than he set out to bring a black-sounding voice to white music. There was no master plan. It just was. That in my eyes doesn’t make him a rebel. A rebel is someone who deliberately sets out to take on authority. Elvis whatever else, whether it was looking out for Mum and Dad, singing ‘American Trilogy’ or in that most bizarre of incidents getting President Nixon to make him an honorary Federal Agent, was totally traditional in his values and love of America. You’re right, Lisa. He did have good looks and a remarkable voice, but I would still argue that he was in many ways ordinary. Your story about him showing Lisa Marie the snow is the equivalent of that of a boy who has never had any sweets being let loose in a candy store. Perhaps if he had been a bit less ordinary, a bit more constituted to fame, Elvis would still be with us at 75, rather than dead at 42. I think that we are going to have to agree to differ here. That’s okay though. In the introduction to ‘The Road to Memphis,’ the first of his two exhaustive and brilliant biographies on Presley, Peter Guralnick, after eleven years of research, concluded that this was the way he felt today, this week about Elvis, but was liable to change. That too seems to me to be a lot of Elvis’s power, his ability to be different things, even at different times, to all men and women, more so than any other 50s artist. That perhaps too is why he is deserving of the accolade of the King. To conclude as I began and to paraphrase the Blue Nile, nothing ever has really gone on to the same degree since his death. It’s been a thoughtful and constructive 'Row', Lisa. You haven’t actually said though yet whether you too see him as the King. LISA He’s not only the King, but the great Emperor.