Dec. 21, 1970

No words needed...

Who was that masked man?

Yes, my friends.

This Bear Family CD box set arrived in the mail today.

I will review it tomorrow when I'm not brain dead.

Thankyaverymuch!

Because I feel like it...

My back hurts, I can't sleep and, all things considered, I'd rather be in Hawaii.

When I get in moods like this, I turn to music, one artist in particular. You know where this is headed.

Elvis Aron Presley.

Don't ask me why. You have your favorites. I have mine.

All I know is that whenever I hear the man sing -- particularly his gospel music and his '70s ballads -- an H-bomb could obliterate Halls and I wouldn't even blink.

Above is a photo of King Elvis the Presley arriving at Stokely Athletics Center in Knoxville for his 2:30 p.m. concert on April 8, 1972. (Look closely and you can see this clip in the documentary "Elvis on Tour.") Elvis would perform again at 8:30 that night. He was brought to town as the star attraction of the Dogwood Arts Festival that year.

I miss the ol' boy. I wish he were still here to make his music. As it is, I'm thankful for the 23 years of recordings that remain, most movie soundtracks excepted.

And do me a favor. Please -- pretty please -- look beyond "Hound Dog" and "Jailhouse Rock" and some of the schlock. There's a lot of good stuff there. The man could sing from his soul or rock his ass off, depending on his mood.

Here, in fact, is a fantastic review of the new box set "Elvis At Stax" written by Matthew Everett in Metro Pulse.

Carrying on, living on songs... that my friends wrote for me to sing...

A burger fit for a king (and Dolly's still the queen)

Well, I was in a bit of a pickle for about 15 minutes last night. Meeting friends at a new (to me) restaurant on Market Square -- The Stock and Barrel -- I noticed the specialties were burgers and bourbon.

I'm a beer guy when it comes to potent potables, so that was no problem. But did they ever have a selection of burgers.

"What shall I get?" I said to myself as I scanned the menu.

And then I saw it.

Peanut butter. Fried bananas. Bentons' bacon.

I know what you're thinking. And you're right. The burger is called The Elvis.

I did a double take. Too good to be true. But no. It was there.

I came. I ate. I conquered.

Next time you're downtown, stop by. The service and food are superb. And, chances are, you'll find a burger you will love, whether it's The Elvis or The Billy or even the Free Bird.

Oh, and by the way: in case you missed it, my buddy Bradley Reeves had a fantastic show last night on WDVX-FM. Boy, howdy. The highlight of the evening were RARE Dolly Parton recordings, including a live performance from 1960 on a Maryville, Tenn., radio show and some other goodies.

Do not miss this one, y'all. The program will be archived for two weeks and can be found by visiting the WDVX website, clicking on Archives, scrolling to Thursday, Sept. 5, and beginning with the 10 p.m. hour "East Tennessee Quiver." The rare Dolly recordings begin about 11 p.m.

Wait until you hear Dolly sing "Making Believe." That's country music, y'all.

'Good Time Charlie's Got The Blues'

This post continues a week-long tribute to Elvis Presley to celebrate Elvis Week 2013.

One of Elvis' most admirable attempts to shake up what had become a fairly rote stage show -- at least in terms of song selections -- happened on Aug. 19, 1974, the opening night of his summer engagement at the Las Vegas Hilton.

Scrapping "Also Sprach Zarathustra" and "See See Rider" and the usual routine, he opened with "Big Boss Man" and forsake most of the '50s hits, too, for some more interesting material, including "Down in the Alley," "It's Midnight" (which became a staple for a short while), "I'm Leavin'," "If You Talk in Your Sleep," "Promised Land" and a song he had recorded but performed live only once -- Danny O'Keefe's elegiac, "it's past time to grow up" lament, "Good Time Charlie's Got The Blues."

Elvis' live take of "Good Time Charlie" is a fine performance and also one of two songs during the '70s to showcase rhythm guitarist John Wilkinson on stage (the other being Gordon Lightfoot's "Early Morning Rain"). He appears to be engaged and in great spirits, a far cry from the September tour a month later. (Arriving for a concert at College Park, Maryland, an obviously stoned Elvis fell while getting out of his limo and gave a performance so listless that one fan on an audience recording of the show can be heard to say, "He's lost it!") To his credit, he somewhat bounced back the following night, but a later show on the same tour is nearly as bad.

Anyhow, during "Good Time Charlie" back in August, Elvis tries to joke his way through parts of the song that hit too close to home. After he sings the line, "You play around, you'll lose your wife," he quips, "Already done that!" And when he sings "You play too long, you'll lose your life," he appears to utter, "Almost did that, even." (Whatever he says, Charlie Hodge breaks into laughter.) Tellingly -- tragically -- he chooses not to sing one line in O'Keefe's original version:

Got my pills to ease my pain; can't find a thing to ease the rain...

I don't say that with any judgment or sense of irony. I just think doing so would hover over a truth Elvis didn't or couldn't touch, even in song.

The critics were kind -- excited even -- by the new show, but the fans didn't care for the changes. The next night he brought back the same basic setlist he'd been singing for a couple of years and would continue to use -- with a few glorious exceptions -- until the final curtain fell in June 1977 at Market Square Arena in Indianapolis. It was a chance to break the monotony, give him a challenge he desperately needed in hindsight, but, alas, it wasn't to be.

Thankfully, the show was recorded and is available on CD as "Nevada Nights" on Sony/BMG's excellent (albeit expensive) FTD label, which has been turning out true treats these last few years for serious Elvis fans.

I will be highlighting some of Elvis' lesser-known songs and hidden gems with Bradley Reeves on WDVX-FM's "East Tennessee Quiver" at 11 p.m. (Eastern) Thursday, Aug. 15. Tune in locally on 89.9 FM, 102.9 FM or online at www.wdvx.com. Call or email the studio with your favorite Elvis request. The only "rule" is the song must be a non-hit. 

'My Heavenly Father Watches Over Me'

Well, as those of you who love King Elvis the Presley know, this is always a difficult week for his family, friends and fans.

Elvis Presley died, way before his time, at age 42 on Aug. 16, 1977. You know the reasons. No need to rehash them here.

Anyhow, this week is designated as Elvis Week, which officially kicks off today in Memphis. I'm celebrating vicariously through Sirius/XM's Elvis Radio and by spinning records from my own collection. And, as I promised you Thursday night, I'm also dedicating a week of blogs to the King.

Today, in honor of her birthday, I'd like to present to you Kathy Westmoreland's soaring, stunning live version of the song she would ultimately sing at Elvis' funeral, "My Heavenly Father Watches Over Me."

Elvis loved singers who could sing in the stratosphere and those who could hit low notes several keys off the piano. So, after Millie Kirkham quit singing live with Elvis in 1971, he hired opera singer Kathy Westmoreland to take care of the former. (And, as you probably know, he soon after hired his childhood hero J.D. Sumner and Sumner's Stamps; J.D. took care of the low notes.)

This live version was recorded in concert in Tuscaloosa, Ala., in 1976. Kathy's soaring vocal sends shivers up my spine every time I hear this concert. I wish there had been an audio recording of Elvis' funeral service. I know he was somewhere smiling knowing that Kathy was singing for him as only she could.

Happy birthday, Kathy. Thanks for sharing your talent with the world.

'It's Easy for You'

On what turned out to be his last studio album ("Moody Blue"), Elvis recorded what I consider to be one of his most underrated songs, "It's Easy for You."

The song was written by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice. I have heard they composed it especially for The King. If you can confirm or deny this, shoot me an email at JakeMabe1@aol.com.

By 1976, Elvis had lost interest in studio recording. Desperate for material, RCA sent a truck and equipment to Graceland. Elvis recorded several songs in his Jungle Room that provided material for two albums, "From Elvis Presley Boulevard" and "Moody Blue."

"It's Easy for You" is a haunting, beautiful song that obviously had a lot of meaning for Elvis at that point in his life. The lyrics are posted below. Listen to the song here.

Happy Elvis Week, y'all!

It's Easy for You
(Webber-Rice)

You may not mind that it's over
But I've a different point of view
Even though I am shattered
It's easy for you

You don't have to face the music
You don't have to face the crowd
Just go back where you came from
You ain't even proud

I had a wife and I had children
I threw them all away
And now you tell me, you dare to tell me
I should go back to them
What do you think I should say?

I found it hard to leave them
Saddest thing I ever had to do
My problems haven't started
And it's easy for you

I had a wife and I had children
I threw them all away
And now you tell me, you dare to tell me
I should go back to them
What do you think, what on earth do you think I should say?

If you ever tire of the good life
Call me in a year or two
I've got no choice, I'll forgive you
'Cause it's easy for you

You only have to call me, it's easy for you
You only have to call me, it's easy for you

Kicking off Elvis Week

Hi gang.

Sorry it's been awhile since I've pulled up a chair. Had some fun with sciatica (insert your old man joke here) and a killer migraine that didn't want to quit.

Tomorrow kicks off Elvis Week. Nope, I won't be walking in Memphis, but I am going to commit to blogging something about The King for seven straight days, culminating with the special show that Brad Reeves and I will be doing on WDVX-FM at 10 p.m. (Eastern) Thursday, Aug. 15, that will include a tribute to Elvis. Don't miss it -- 89.9 FM or 102.9 FM in Knoxville, TN or online at www.wdvx.com.

This photo is from Elvis' March 15, 1974, concert at Stokely Athletics Center in Knoxville. Somebody had given him an orange and white "guitar." Go Vols!

Happy Elvis Week. And hail, hail rock and roll!

The 35th

I can't really tell you why Elvis Presley is my favorite singer.

The artist, the music, the listener -- a connection exists. You can't explain it.

The fun part is you don't have to explain.

It makes me sad so many folks don't really know Elvis. Look past the stereotype, the bad jokes, the even-worse impersonators (several of them are worth the price of admission), the so-so films and all that kitsch.

Go back to the music. Go back to the man. Take a good listen. Take a good look.

I had put Elvis away, folded him neatly and placed him in a box marked "memories" for most of the last decade. Well, I had ODed on him during my childhood and needed some distance.

And here's the great part. A year or two or three ago, Elvis came back into my life, as if he'd put on the black leather and stepped back into the national consciousness on NBC-TV in December '68. And you know what? He's even better this time around.

I bought a Sirius/XM player in large part so I could listen to Elvis Radio. Jenn would tell you I probably listen too much, but like Jose Feliciano just said from Memphis, "I'd rather be addicted to Elvis Radio than to drugs."

Elvis left us 35 years ago today. The world is a much duller place without him.

It's funny. I feel like he's an old friend. You may think that's nuts. I don't care. Elvis is there when I need him. All these years later, he's still entertaining.

If you don't like him or don't get it, that's OK. I guarantee you have an Elvis in your life. And that's cool. It's what puts the fan in fanatic.

I like the later, mature stuff, more "Suspicious Minds" and less "All Shook Up." But I'll say this. Some of the gems the disc jockeys on Elvis Radio dig up have given me a new appreciation for the "Young Man with a Big Beat" years.

One of these days, I'll make it back to Memphis, to Graceland, to pay my respects. I want to see whether it's changed in 15 years. I want to say thanks.

Forgive me if I am just a little bit maudlin today. I am going to pause. To smile. To listen to the music, that sweet, sweet music. To remember.

God bless ya, Elvis. You'll always be The King to me.

Friday laugh...

...courtesy of the warped mind of Blake Edwards and a scene from the 1978 classic "Revenge of the Pink Panther."

"Mr. Chong" was played by Ed Parker, a legendary Kenpo Karate instructor who was also friends with (and an occasional bodyguard for) Elvis Presley.

Happy Easter!

I hope everyone has a beautiful and blessed Easter Sunday.

Submitted for your approval is an Easter greeting from Elvis 'himselvis', circa '67.

Happy Easter, y'all!

'Too long in the wind, too long in the rain...'

Just heard that Dobie Gray has passed away. RIP.

Everybody remembers his monster 1973 hit "Drift Away."

Gimmie the beat, boys, and free my soul; I wanna get lost in your rock and roll...

But here is my favorite song of his, "Loving Arms," which was later covered quite well by Elvis Presley.

Thanks for the music, Dobie. Guess you're singing somewhere through the lonely night, too long in the wind, too long in the rain...

My love/hate relationship with John Lennon

On this date 30 years ago, a deranged fan named Mark David Chapman shot John Lennon four times in the back as he walked with his wife, Yoko Ono, into the couple's Manhattan apartment building.

Even Howard Cosell broke in on "Monday Night Football" to tell the world that the former Beatle was dead.

I've always had something of a love/hate relationship with Lennon. I entered a serious Beatles phase around 1992 but have always been more of an Elvis kind of guy. I have marveled at many of Lennon's compositions (especially "Imagine," one of the best American pop songs of the 20th century), but didn't care for some of his more bizarre personal and political excesses.

What do I know, but I always blamed Yoko for the Beatles' breakup (as if Lennon and the others had nothing to do with it...). I remember I about had a heart attack when I heard Yoko sing a song called "Woman is the Nigger of the World" on national television, even if I sympathized with its feminist POV.

And I was always a Paul McCartney fan. Paul was solely responsible for what I consider to be the Beatles' best lyric, "Yesterday," and he said on the radio once he hated he had to give Lennon co-credit. But, that was their songwriting deal.

Lennon was a musical genius perhaps both fueled by and a victim of the upheavals of the 1960s. But, together with McCartney, and in one shining solo moment, he made great music. And I was always grateful when, at a moment when it was fashionable to bash him, Lennon said of Presley, "Before Elvis, there was nothing."

Like too many others, Lennon died at the hands of a lunatic. "Imagine" a world without that, indeed.

The King turns 75

My goodness gracious. Is Elvis really 75?

I say "is" because it doesn't feel like the man ever left us. Not really. He's played a major part in my life and he passed before I was born.

Such was his talent.

I feel like, though, that the average person has missed it. Say the name Elvis Presley and most people either think of a young punk swiveling his hips or an aging and overweight guy in a jumpsuit. Both miss the mark.

To me, Elvis's true talent lay in the fact that he sang from his gut. You can hear it on later songs like "Hurt" and "You Gave Me A Mountain," in which the ol' boy just "reared back and sang," like we used to say.

He had a range like you wouldn't believe. Later live versions of "How Great Thou Art" can give you chills. And he could rock his butt off. If you don't believe me, track down a copy of either the 1968 "Comeback" Special or the film "That's the Way It Is." Or find a live version of "Suspicious Minds."

And yet I feel sad when I think about him, alone in his Memphis mansion in those final years, a decent guy overcome by fame, taken advantage of by his stooges, laughed at by the nattering nabobs.

But most of us, so-called Middle Americans who maybe saw or wanted to see a bit of ourselves in him, took him for what he was -- a poor Southern boy who made good, who still said, "yes, sir" and "no, ma'am" even though he was the most famous superstar on the planet.

I like to think he's still out there, singing somewhere in the lonely night. He's been gone for almost 33 years, but I don't think the King will never die.

Pardon me while I put on my blue suede shoes and touch down in the land of the Delta Blues.

Happy birthday, Elvis.

The day the music died

Would you laugh if I said that Elvis Presley's enduring popularity has something to do with the fact that he was, really, just one of us?

No, wait. It's not as far-fetched as it seems.

Presley's career was something of an accident, if you believe the legend. Recording ballads at Sun Records, Presley and his back-up band of Scotty Moore and Bill Black took off on an old R&B tune, "That's All Right."

The rest, as they say, is history.

Seen from a couple of generations removed, Elvis to me always seemed like a regular guy caught in something he couldn't control. Deep down in his soul, he remained a Southern boy who loved fried cookin' and makin' music with his friends. That he couldn't go out except late at night, and had no one near the end who really cared about him, led to his downfall.

Along the way, he drifted from rebel teenager (although he never saw himself that way), to a soldier boy to a Southern middle class hero, struggling to pay his bills and fighting a losing fight with age. Who can't relate to that?

And, man, could he sing. Overlook "Jailhouse Rock" and dig deeper. You'll find some fine pieces of work. To this day, chills still rise up my spine when Elvis hits this one note on "Loving Arms," a rare cut from a forgotten 1970s album.

And that gospel music? Nobody sang it any better.

It saddens me that Elvis has become something of a caricature. Because beyond all those stories of shooting TVs and taking midnight runs to eat cheeseburgers lies an artist, a real, flesh-and-blood musician, who instinctively knew how to craft a song and make it his own.

Today, on the 30th anniversary of Presley's death, I'll remember that music. I'll wonder awhile what might have happened if he could have weened himself off all those prescription drugs.

And most of all I'll listen to the music. Not the pop fluff, but the real stuff, the songs that make you climb the wall, play them again, marvel at such an emotive voice.

That, friends, is the King's legacy, no matter what those jerks write about fried food weight gain.

Without a song...

It's early afternoon and I'm eased back in my recliner. Didn't feel like brunch today.

So I've turned on the XM and am continuing my week-long New York state of mind by tuning into the disc jockey of the City.

Jonathan Schwartz still does his Sunday show. He's been around, it seems, nearly as long as the Great American Songbook music he plays.

Today he opens up with an eclectic gem. Bernadette Peters doing Bob Dylan.

And I'll be your baby tonight...

First time I heard that song, Bobby Darin was doing it at the Desert Inn. Mack the Knife turned Dylan's folk song into a blues number. He was good.

Now Schwartz is playing Ben Webster. He's taking off on a Richard Rodgers tune. I can't remember the name and I'm too lazy to get up and look.

I wonder if kids listen to the radio anymore in this iPod, MP3, download it now! world. I don't even listen to the radio like I once did. That's because Knox Vegas radio sucks.

But I digress.

When I was a kid, every night at 8 or so, you could find me in front of the big dial, usually tuned to some oldies station. I used to call one particular show every night while doing homework. My moniker was "Jake in Halls." (Imagine that.)

One night I coaxed DJ Tony Lawson into digging up Elvis Presley's "Promised Land." He had to go down to the basement and find the 45 RPM single. But he played it.

Left my home in Norfolk, Virginia, California on my mind...

Johnny's got somebody -- it isn't Patsy Cline -- singing "Walking After Midnight." Pretty good. Real jazzy. Something you'd hear in a joint.

Tonight we're going to hear Robin. I hear she's got a new band. Can't wait.

Robin sang me to sleep last night.

Funny how my teardrops don't make a sound, when they roll down my cheeks and they fall to the ground...

Whenever I die, my funeral is going to be a wall-to-wall sound of music that will make Phil Spector blush. You'll think you've come to a concert, and that's the way I want it. No tears. No fuss. Just tunes.

Schwartz is playing Astaire. Now it's k.d. lang, of all people, belting out Sinatra's classic saloon song, "Angel Eyes." Where does he find this stuff?

I'm thinking about turning it off. I want to hear the Chairman of the Board himself.

Without a song, the day would never end...

You're so right, Frankie. You're so right.