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Summer
1996
The 25 Most Influential Americans of the 20th Century: #5
ELVIS
PRESLEY
The Bad, the Sweet and the Boogie
"Before
Elvis,, there was nothing."
-John Lennon
The
great irony of the twentieth century is how Americans north of
the Mason Dixon Line have viewed their Southern brethren as often
comical, less-than-hip hicks, far removed from the cutting-edge
cultural hub wrestled so vigorously in cities like New York, Los
Angeles and Chicago. Yet, in this subtle bread basket of culture,
the lines of musical, and consequently, societal challenge have
been repeatedly drawn in the generational sands of America. And
the man that will forever rise to the top of the legendary pioneers
roll call is an ex-trucker from Memphis Tennessee named Elvis
Aaron Presley.
Elvis
Presley never wrote a published song, designed a stitch of clothing,
sculpted a single hair style or invented one dance step; but the
man forever known as The King certainly sang, modeled, coifed
and hoofed his way to the pinnacle of fame and fortune the world
over. Presley was the package: the swooping, greasy pompadour,
sneering smile, the slightest shake of his pant leg and an indescribable,
godly voice meshed in sweet tones and snarling grit, all added
up to arguably the most recognizable personality in the history
of pop culture.
Somewhere
on the edge of black and white, male and female, young and old,
innocence and evil; the skinny kid from nowhere still sits straddling
the fence of genre, style and celebrity. With a name for the ages,
and a look of an alien creature sent to earth on a twist of fate,
Elvis Presley, by his mere presence, changed everything Americans
knew or imagined about iconoclasm.
The
country bumpkin image of Lil' Abner, Hee Haw and the mellow world
of Andy Griffith has forever defined the South as a vacuous, backward
desert of culture and progress. These images usually followed
the alarming pictures of a nation dependent on farms and old-fashioned
tradition for life-blood. The core battle for civil rights and
religious morals seemed to drag well behind what the times, and
the rest of America, dictated. But the
fact is for decades before and after World War II the warm simplicity
of the American South produced nearly all of the country's original
music; Jazz, Country, Folk, and Rock-N-Roll. In towns like New
Orleans, Louisiana, Memphis, Tennessee and Mobile, Alabama, simple
"county folk" were tearing down the walls of musical
expectation and setting the standards by which the rest of the
country would copy for evermore.
The South produced Blues originators like Robert Johnson and Muddy
Waters, who were laying down the lyrical and musical bedrock for
the future of modern music, folk legends like Woody Guthrie and
Leadbelly, who began to set the mood of the nation to three-chord
ballads with a satirical twist, country icons such as Hank Williams,
who wrote the Bible of musical musings, fore fathers of Jazz like
Louis Armstrong and John Coltraine, who simply created the genre,
and the young pistols of rock-n-roll like Buddy Holly and Little
Richard, who influenced a billion-dollar legacy that has dominated
the world.
When a 20 year-old Elvis Presley wandered into the now-famous
Sun Studios, the eventual stable for rock-n-roll originals and
now one of the most frequented tourist sights in America, he was
not only unaware of the impact his voice, face, and demeanor would
have for the future of modern celebrity, he hardly knew if he'd
like the results of the visit himself.
It was the spring of 1955, and the affluent winds of modern America
were blowing. The first wave of Baby Boomers were ready and willing
to spend their daddy's money on the Next Big Thing. The only son
of Vernon Presley, an out-of-work ex-con, and his overly-affectionate,
chubby wife, Marie, Elvis quickly tired of wading through the
sludge of poverty and busting his fragile back in the dust bowl
of anonymity. All of his teachers, school mates and fellow Sunday
gospel singers down at the local church had told him that he possessed
a beautiful voice and a certain boyish, naive charm that could
settle a song deep within his chest and pour over the ears like
the molasses in their cuppards. So, he collected part of his measly
weekly earnings driving a delivery truck and decided to record
his untrained, lilting voice onto an actual vinyl disc.
Sam Phillips, owner and proprietor of Sun Studios, fancied himself
a producer and manager of unknown local acts. His connection with
disc jockeys and larger record companies made him a magnet for
talented young boys fed up with their dead-end lives. Legend has
it that Elvis walked into the waiting arms of fate by pure chance,
that he wanted to record a song for his beloved mother's birthday.
But the young budding star knew full well what a stunning maiden
performance could bring him, or more precisely, get him; far away
for Memphis.
Phillips was mesmerized by the kid's raw, yet surprisingly, refined
talent. Presley's impeccable punching of the notes, elastic range,
and above all, natural ability to sound like a blues-based, old-time-gospel-hour
black man, had the old pro's wheels spinning. The man knew the
goods and the dollar sign when he saw it. The very idea of a young,
strange-looking white boy who could croon and bark like a country
Negro could set the world on its ear and subsequently bridge the
racial gap between the struggling, but eminently gifted, black
songsters, and the ultra-conservative landscape of post-war America.
Phillips
almost immediately set Presley up with three local musicians;
guitarist, Scotty Moore, drummer, D.J. Fantanna, and bass player,
Bill Black. Between the quartet and Sun's cramped, muggy studio
with its old microphone hanging from the dusty ceiling, they created
a sound dripping with jazzy turns, bluesy riffs and biting country-folk
drawl. Yet, the music was as new and compelling as the tightly
wound figure of angst and rebellion who would eventually bare
its name.
Elvis
Presley, and his tight, little group, recorded over twenty songs
for Mr. Phillips' tiny Sun Records, went on small tours of the
South and appeared on local television and radio shows for the
next year. Presley's impact was immediate and far reaching. Before
1956 was over, he would hook up with the notorious and pompous
Colonel Tom Parker, appear on enormously popular variety network
television shows including Steve Allen and Ed Sullivan and sign
a lucrative contract with the largest record company in America,
RCA.
Elvis
Presley was truly an overnight success story of epic proportions,.
the American Dream of fortune and fame unchained. Not only was
he recognized as the next teeny bopper pin-up boy in the mold
of Frank Sinatra, but his uncanny and innate ability to cause
a stir through his constant gyrations while singing, coupled with
his long, greasy crop of hair and baggy, colorful clothes simultaneously
served as a figurehead for the look of the rest of the decade
and the early part of the next.
Although
he never expected it, Presley became the quintessential figurehead
for the evils of music and frivolity in the young, restless hordes
of the post-war generation bloated with dreams and time their
parents never knew. The strange, hypnotic rhythms of black country
blues and the raw sexuality of the performance literally sent
shock waves through the core of a patently conservative America.
For the first time since WWII, young Americans thumbed their noses
at their parents' beliefs and ideological foundation. All the
freedom provided by the country's post war boom had given the
spoiled, wild youth the avenue to search for figures of rebellion.
The solid temple of values and tradition, of growing up, working
hard and raising a family, gave way to unbridled, unabashed boogie
woogie, "feelin' fine" mantra of the next generation. And standing
in the crossfire as the shining symbol of this uncharted path
was Elvis Presley.
It
mattered little that Presley spent the remainder of his career
defending his old-fashioned, God-fearing, momma's-boy Southern
background. The image of the young Elvis; mean and strong, standing
in the defiant spotlight was, by definition, the very essence
of the American cultural rebellion experience. James Dean, Marlon
Brando, Tony Curtis were all heroes, and in some cases, influences
on Presley. But they eventually took a back seat to him. Elvis
was the product of a brand new wave of popularity and revolution,
one he would eventually come to represent as its most royal participant.
Rock-n-roll,
this new and exciting musical amalgamation of sped-up blues and
raucous country-folk, sweeping the nation from the streets of
Cleveland and Detroit to the skyscrapers of New York and Philadelphia,
rode the crest of radio and household record players. Unlike movies
or even television, any kid could own a transistor radio, spin
a 45 record or run down to the local skating rink or sock hop
and dance their adolescent troubles away. It was raucous simplicity
coming in compact and movable forms, just like the evolving world
all around. Not unlike the power and impact of the automobile
and fast food, these quick two-minute songs, singing the praises
of young love, lost love, and the frustrations of mommy and daddy's
world succinctly set to dance patterns provided the soundtrack
for an era, a generation and the genesis of modern American music.
All of these points would have been harder to slip into the mainstream,
or might not ever existed in quite the same way or reached quite
the same number of people, if not for Elvis Presley.
His
contemporaries, especially the talent-laden black artists, who
invented and authored the anthems of the time, like Chuck Berry
and Little Richard, often complain about Presley's legacy as the
King of rock-n-roll. Berry's bouncy four-bar blues set in different
keys, curved in counter rhythms, and laced with searing solos
that surrounded the biting and witty lyrics of good times and
wild rides has been adopted as the living primer for modern American
music. He was the poet of middle class dreams and fears. However,
Chuck Berry, with all his shining smiles and cutesy charm was
still an aggressive, egotistical black man with a stud-like aggression.
His art was far too alien and threatening for lilly white Johnny
Blue Jeans or Lucy Curls, who made up the bulk of the record buying
public. If Elvis doesn't smooth the road and chop down the brush
of fear and resentment, ignorance and bigotry so prevelant in
the mid-1950s', brilliant artists such as Berry might have floated
in relative obscurity, forced to keep his music within the sociatal
boundaries of "his own kind."
By merely being Caucasian, Presley, like an eager salesman, was
able to make his noisy stand by sticking his foot in the door
before it closed . The black artists and song writers, who penned
a great deal of Presley's hits were lucky he truly loved their
work with an unique passion. Instead of stripping the melodies
and rawness of their thump and pop, his interpretations exploded
from the depths of its meaning. While Pat Boone and Perry Como
were busy "whitening" the kick and bellow of their craft, Elvis
Presley was doing it justice.
By
virtue of his unprecedented rising popularity, the thousands of
gold records, millions of dollars in merchandising and image conscious
pruning, Elvis Presley stands as the father of all pop stars.
Frank Sinatra merely stepped to the beat of the current times,
wearing the proper attire of any dapper man of his era. Sinatra
fit his world like a glove. Presley looked like someone dropped
out of a spaceship. The
crossover sexuality of the hot pinks and jet blacks, thin ties,
baggy pants and white shoes that would hang from his lithe body
like a uniform of peculiarity were the precursor of every pop
star who followed him from the Beatles and Jimi Hendrix of the
60s', to Elton John and David Bowie of the '70s, to Boy George
and Prince of the 80s', and finally almost every musical figure
rounding out the century. Elvis was America's first male freak--
mainstream and macho-- yet effeminate and docile. He was the inspiration
for a generation of rock stars who took misfit alienation to new
levels. Before Elvis there were codes and standards by which unknown
acts had to capitulate or be sent back to obscurity. Within months
of his explosion on the national scene, Presley became the standard.
He
might not have been the century's only marketable personality,
but Elvis Presley was certainly the biggest. His likeness has
donned almost every product know to humankind. Toward the end
of his short life it was widely understood that Elvis was the
most photographed person in history. Even today his face is used
to sell more junk the world over than anyone. In an odd way, his
image transformed the way celebrities are sold to the public.
Today a look or image is imperative to a performer, in most cases
more influential than the music itself. For good or bad, Elvis
Presley became a legend beyond the reach of his talents. The wave
of pretty boys and glamour queens that dominated the record business
for the following decades relied heavily on the selling of Elvis.
For
all the impact and influence on his time, the future of music
and celebrity, Elvis Presley's star burnt as quickly as it did
brightly. By 1959 Elvis was becoming more of a movie star than
trend setter or musical force. Within a year he would join the
army, followed by the passing of his beloved mother and his doomed
marriage to Priscilla. In the process, the young pistol gave way
to the savvy, cute Hollywood hunk. He would never again be a significant
voice in the landscape of popular music.
By
the time Elvis Presley returned to the stage in the mid-60s',
the generation he had borne would be well ensconced in the pop
fabric. The Beatles and Bob Dylan had taken the torch of rebellion
to another, more intellectual place. They paid homage to his lasting
influence by simply admitting that the only motivation for picking
up a guitar in the first place and setting their own fates in
motion was to simply be the next Elvis.
Had
Presley never sung a note he might have still caused a stir, but
sing he did. Along with serving as a conduit of musical styles
and bridging the chasm between black artists and a hit-dominated
record industry, the simple greatness of his original voice puts
him at the top of any century list.
Watershed
hits such as "Heartbreak Hotel", "All Shook Up", "Hound Dog",
"Jailhouse Rock", and "Are You Lonesome Tonight" were eminately
Presley's from the moment he put his stamp on them. His jagged,
bubbly highs and Southern baritone jump from those recordings
like spirits from a cauldren. Elvis crooned romantically, then
screeched relentlessly; always pouring his heart into the lyric
and melody. His blood, sweat and tears are on each and every song
he recorded, even those less-recognized for their influence. His
range of emotion and excitement speak honestly about the singer.
After Elvis, the male vocalist could no longer just sing a song,
especially in the new world of rock-n-roll. The "feel" of a performance
far out-weighed the perfection of the take.
Moreover,
there is a timeless quality to those early songs, and yet they
also bring us back to a more innocent age when being wild and
free meant that the world was an open book for the young. It was
a time when America boomed economically and the rest of the world
looked to our shores for support and guidance.
The
true measure of Elvis Presley's impact on society and memory is
his indelible link to the expansive decade of the 50s'. All the
politicians, inventors and celebrities pale in comparison. Although
he was so young, and his time had come later in the decade, Elvis
still stands as the defining figure of his time. And his legacy
continues to effect and influence the music business today. Every
year RCA delivers a new package of his hits, the sound and fury
of the performances have a similar ring. Many of today's artists,
even those who write their own material, have learned a thing
or two from The King's passion in expressing the message of a
song, and the infinite marriage it holds for its singer.
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