From Elvis In MemphisArtist: Presley, ElvisGenre: R&B; Publisher: RCA Released: 1969 |
A Review by Marty Brown
08/15/2002
It's easy to take Elvis Presley for granted. Each successive rocknroll generation has put more and more distance between itself and sincerity—making The King's place in current pop culture more and more tentative as the years roll along. The slow cultural transition—from The Beatles' “Hey kids, look what we're doing now” cockiness through punk rock's irreverence through the impenetrable irony of the 90's to now, when music has become so dominated by excess (bigger, better, faster, harder, more commercial, more independent, more, more, more) that the best music is so unflinchingly sincere that it's more ironic than irony—has denied the power of the purity of Elvis's music by burying it with decades' worth of smirks and self-deprecation and the recoiling from anything even remotely uncool. Yes, we all know that Elvis had a huge role in defining rock in the beginning—but few of us really know what that means. Because, however influential he was then, what does it matter if we can't listen to him now?
But then there's That Voice, which Elvis uses to cut through to the most complex meaning of the song—the meaning that the song's writers might not even know exists—and lay it bare. On From Elvis In Memphis, he takes the longing sentiment in “Any Day Now,” which begins, “Any day now, I will hear you say ‘Goodbye My Love',” and infuses it with an odd joy. Maybe he legitimately wishes happiness upon his lover, even if it means her leaving him alone; maybe his intonation betrays a predilection for self-sabotage. Either way, his voice lends “Any Day Now” a certain buoyancy that most artists would never even think belongs, and in doing so he embeds a deceptively simple pop song with depth and mystery—all through inflection. So generation after generation, new audiences seek out Elvis Presley because of his ability to invest his music with rich, complex, and, above all, human emotion—they find themselves in those songs because Elvis puts himself there; at base, they can connect with him as a person.
Interesting, then, that the mythology overwhelms the man and the music. Most people either buy into the larger-than-life image of “The King,” or dismiss it out-of-hand—but either response scarcely has anything to do with his artistry. This makes From Elvis In Memphis all the more stunning, because it came at a time when the mythology had already been created, the music had had its initial impact, and Elvis had already risen back to popularity with his legendary '68 special. He didn't have nearly as much to prove as he did both in his initial success and in his comeback, and that gave him a personal freedom to experiment. A craftsman at heart, his experimentation didn't manifest itself in innovation, but in refinement of his already incomparable technique. He took more control than he ever had in the past, and selected a group of songs that he felt strongly about. As a result, From Elvis In Memphis documents what happens when an artist who instinctively personalizes the songs he sings decides to get even more personal. The outcome is raw, stripped of all pretense, and dedicated to The Idea of The Song.
The best albums in the rocknroll pantheon deal with dissatisfaction and discomfort, and From Elvis In Memphis is no exception. However, few artists delve into those subjects with the sheer desperation that Elvis Presley. His voice brings with it a grave amount of weight. No one else could pull off the sappy “In the Ghetto,” but in Elvis's hands, it takes on an earthy resonance. Likewise, the eerie contemplation on mortality in “Long Black Limousine” gets faced with sullen bravery. Six singles are tacked onto the end of the CD that weren't a part of the initial LP, but they blend in perfectly. The best of these, “Suspicious Minds” and “Kentucky Rain” rank among Elvis's best.
Opening the album, “Wearin' That Loved On Look” commences with Elvis singing what becomes a sort of statement-of-purpose for the album over a simple, lingering organ and guitar. “I had to leave town for a little while. You said you'd be good while I'm gone,” he sings, “But the look in your eyes done told me you told a lie. I know there's been some carryin' on.” The theme of romantic betrayal shows up all over From Elvis In Memphis, but Elvis takes the blame as much as he deals it out—most effectively on “You'll Think of Me,” when he leaves his mistress, but reassures her that “some stranger” will be “better to you than I used to be,” and then she'll forget all about him. The song examines a break up with more truth and insight than just about any other pop song—Elvis confesses that he'll always love the woman, even though he knows she'll forget him, and yet never explains why he must leave her, other than telling her, “Something deep inside my soul keeps calling me.”
The dissolute aura of the album made it a critical favorite—a reason to legitimately proclaim one's affection for Elvis in an era where he seemed out of place. But now, that same quality makes From Elvis In Memphis both timeless and heart rendering. It's next to impossible to deny the emotional power of the mother telling her son to keep a stiff upper lip in “Only the Strong Survive,” the resolute pride of “True Love Travels On a Gravel Road,” or the unguarded warmth of “Gentle On My Mind.” In the cases where the songs themselves could come off as one-dimensional, Elvis seeks out their depth and amplifies it with his stunning, soulful voice.
Sensing a decline in popularity for The King over the past year or so, marketers at RCA and BMG have been attempting to reintroduce Elvis to new millennium teenagers through a series of publicity moves (outlined in Fred Goodman's article “Reinventing Elvis” in Rolling Stone #903), including the sale of some Elvis songs to Nike and Disney and the release of a Beatles' #1-style compilation of number one hits. All this hoopla, with the 25th anniversary of The King's “death” as a handy excuse, betrays the marketers' underlying notions that the mythology once again needs to be twisted and promoted to fit the times. But they're wrong; no such reinvention needs take place. If you want an indication of why Elvis deserves a place in current pop culture, pick up From Elvis In Memphis. The music speaks for itself. Authenticity never goes out of style.
© Copyright ToxicUniverse.com 08/15/2002
