Here he comes! That greasy, sweaty hunk’a man-meat! He swaggers up to the mic and BLAM! he’s makin’ us all swoon and drool. Do I love Elvis? Well, maybe. He is full of sex, no doubt. The music is catchy as hell. And his voice goes down like a warm cup of milk. His lactation has flowed its way into our collective unconscious in a way that (arguably) no other artist has done before or since. And that might be the problem. There is so much baggage attached to the King that it’s tough to listen with fresh ears. His voice is an A&R man’s wet dream, but it’s difficult to evaluate his music objectively. Actually, I’m not sure we can evaluate ANY work of art objectively; we all come with our own personal experiences/expectations/bullshit, etc. Objectivity becomes especially hard, though, when the artist in question is so strongly associated with things like Las Vegas, cheap busts, terrible impersonators, uh… basically everything kitschy. So I had to put my pre-conceived notions aside for at least a couple days so I could experience the Gyrating Hips in their purest form.
“I’ve been traveling over mountains / Even through the valleys, too / I’ve been traveling night and day / I’ve been running all the way / Baby, trying to get to you.”* I quote this passage not to delve deeply into its philosophical implications, but to talk about the way Elvis can transform seemingly trite notions into something far more powerful. Give these words to just any ol’ crooner and they will be delivered D.O.A. Elvis hiccups these words into my heart. That’s his true gift: the ability to breathe life into the songs he performs no matter how cliché and boring they may appear on paper. There are some serious duds on this album, certainly, but when the man is working his magic it is a measurable experience. It is easy to write an artist off for not creating his/her own material... but it takes genuine talent to make a song spring to life. This is why Elvis is a legend.
The duds I speak of are mainly the Tropical, margarita-drenched numbers that plod along at a frustratingly leisurely pace (see: “I love you, Because” and “I’ll Never Let you Go”). I love Elvis when he's outta control… the obvious example is “Blue Suede Shoes”, but I love it when he gets all flip on “Just Because”: “Well, I’m telling you I’m through with you / Because, well well, just because.” Maaan, if I tried using that line to end a relationship it simply would not fly. I would end up having to sit down and describe exactly WHY it was that I no longer wanted to be with that person… break-ups get sloppy. But he can do what he wants because he’s fucking ELVIS! AND HE’S TOO BUSY ROCKIN’ OUT TO DEAL WITH YO’ PRETTY LIL’ HEAD. That’s when Elvis really kills.
Overall, this is a messy affair. The album is a stitch-up of two separate sessions that were recorded six months apart. But Elvis isn't an album's man, and I didn't expect a true album out of him. All I wanted was Elvis to get buck wild. And that's what he did. Mostly.
* This is from "Trying To Get To You", easily my favourite track on the album.
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