Monday, January 15, 2007

Elvis Has Left the Building

I’ve just completed Peter Guralnick’s massive, two-volume biography of Elvis Presley, Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley and Careless Love: The Unmaking of Elvis Presley. At nearly 1,200 pages, these books are clearly intended for the serious Elvis fan. And as music biographies, they are simply superb. Guralnick, without casting moral judgments, simply chronicles Elvis’s meteoric rise, long sojourn at the top of the cultural summit, and precipitous descent from the mountain.

By the time I started paying attention to music in the mid-1960s, Elvis was already past his prime. Upon his release from the army in 1960, he returned to the cultural spotlight as a romantic crooner, a schlockmeister, and the principal actor in a long string of bad movies. And, with the exception of a handful of worthwhile singles, he continued that way until his death in 1977. I missed the whole King of Rock ‘n Roll hype, and I never really understood what all the fuss was about. As far as I was concerned, Elvis was a cartoon character. He was Redneck Stud Man. He wore capes, like Superman and Batman, sang ridiculously over-the-top, embarrassing Vegas swill, and made middle-aged women squeal. Okay, I briefly considered the cape angle as a way to become a Chick Magnet, then dismissed it out of hand as absurd. And that’s the way I viewed Elvis. He was a buffoon, the surreal fantasy stud of a million bored Midwestern housewives. And I didn’t think much more about him.

Eventually, of course, I heard those fifties records. And I discovered, at least in part, what all the fuss was about. The guy had a voice for the ages, and when he used it on great material, as he did for most of the first four years of his career, he was a force of nature, a miracle. And his influence on popular music is incalculable. He was the great dividing line. After 1956 the musical world could be conveniently encapsulated as B.E. and A.E. All shook up was just about right. He was the earthquake that changed the way we heard music.

And all too soon he became an embarrassment – to those who loved good music, and, perhaps most profoundly, to himself. Guralnick’s books help to unlock that enigma, and show an enormously conflicted man – alternately kindhearted, mean-spirited, humble, self-absorbed, proud, and deeply ashamed. Elvis was capable of acts of great generosity, and he was also capable of the most flippant, uncaring insults. He believed his own hype, and yet he never quite felt comfortable in his own skin. Most disturbingly, he was a man who was defined by both his faith and his addictions, belting out “How Great Thou Art” in concert as if he meant it (and he probably did), all the while blasted out of his mind. His life was one big contradiction – the biggest star in the world circling the drain, watching his life become smaller and smaller with each passing year and each passing tour.

Elvis left the building quite a few years before he died. He checked out emotionally and never came back. I see parts of myself in him, and the contradictions that defined him are not unfamiliar to me. But he saddens me, this enormously gifted man. If I didn’t particularly like him before reading Peter Guralnick’s books, I like him now. His story is a peculiarly American tragedy, focused on the Bible Belt and conspicuous consumption, on the gaping hole in the soul that no amount of stuff, and no amount of adulation, could fill. He died as the King, seated on a porcelain throne, choking on his own vomit. No one has really worn the crown since him. I’m not sure why anyone would want to.

8 comments:

Brother-in-law Bill said...

As a kid in the 1950's, I remember seeing Elvis for the first time on TV, and it was on the Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey program, not the later Ed Sullivan appearance (which I also remember seeing). Growing up in a small town in East Central Ohio, I listened to the music on the radio and on "Your Hit Parade" on television, and was familiar with the hits of the day (Patti Page, Frankie Lane, Johnnie Ray, etc.), swing jazz, and country and western. No rhythm and blues in that time and place. Elvis was truly a force of nature that evening on the Dorsey show. He was unlike anything I had ever experienced, and I instantly loved it. Later on, I was equally captivated by Jerry Lee Lewis. Then came Buddy Holly, Little Richard, Chuck Berry, Sam Cooke, and a bunch of others, and music was changed. No matter what he ultimately became, Elvis was present at the creation, and deserves the honor that goes with it.

Adventures with Gar, Autumn, Anna & Jason said...

I still think that 1968 concert special was probably the last time Elvis was him. I am interested in reading this. In the book does Tom Parker get blamed for the cartoon character Elvis became? I wonder what Elvis' career would have looked like with out the Colonel???? Now off to Amazon.....

Andy Whitman said...

Gar, Peter Guralnick doesn't really make moral judgments in the book. He simply tells Elvis's story. So I wouldn't necessarily say that he "blames" Tom Parker. However, I do think he makes a strong case for the notion that Parker was the behind-the-scenes Svengali who manipulated Elvis's career. So, from that standpoint, I think it's safe to say that Parker played a significant role in guiding/directing Elvis in terms of his career choices. But Elvis was also responsible for those choices. As in much of life, these issues are not clear-cut.

Fred Kohn said...

i'm not sure if i like elvis or not.

is he hi church or lo church?

scott said...

Elvis Presley is just the latest in an ever lengthening line of amazing musical connections we have. But for Elvis (and a parenthetical salute to Sam Phillips too), so much of the music I love might have never seen the light of day.
Period.
Pargraph.
And for that I will always be thankful.
Peter Guralnick's two Elvis books were given to me as gifts years ago, and they are by far the best of the many about Elvis I have read.

e said...

I still think the best Elvis books is The Two Kings: Jesus and Elvis. Freaking hilarious.

Andy Whitman said...

Jesus had some water, said "Wine'd be better yet".
Elvis picked up a guitar and made all the women wet.
Elvis he died young - Jesus he died younger.
Elvis died of too much - Jesus died of hunger.

Jesus sang down through the ages: "Do like you'd have'em do you". Elvis rocked the universe with be-bop-a-lu-la
Now here they are on black velvet, in a parking lot in Missouri - rocking my soul with rock'n'roll, soulful harmony.

Jesus went back to heaven to be the King of Kings,
but I hear the King of Rock'n'Roll is still restlessly roaming.
Go on home to Jesus, El - he's waiting there you'll find.
You two can jam on old gospel songs. Them are the best kind.
-- Greg Brown, "Jesus and Elvis"

john r. williamson said...

andy,

i knew you had to be a greg brown fan. have you heard his last one yet? it's the one that came out around the tail end of last year. a great album. we bought it with a gift cert., just before christmas and enjoyed cruising with it. the best since his first trailer park album.

-john