|
The
Hits Just Keep On Coming
RCA
Raids The Tomb Of The King Once Again With "Platinum: A
Life In Music"
Not long after I moved to Memphis four years ago, I
began getting calls from old friends. They wondered if
everyone here was "into" Elvis Presley, the way a
crack addict is "into" smoking the rock. The truth,
I found, is that much of the city either disdains or actively
dislikes Elvis--or, more specifically, the aura that surrounds
him. It's the image of Elvis that the locals loathe,
the idea of our representative to the world as pill-popping,
meatloaf-gorging idiot savant, dead on his throne.
RCA, the King's record company, can't much like that
image either. 'Fat dead rhinestone-clad white trash' doesn't
exactly have marketing cachet. So RCA has spent the last few
years trying to steer the public's focus back to Elvis's music
with a series of major rereleases. Now, just in time for the
big Twentieth-Anniversary Death Celebration, comes Elvis
Presley's "Platinum: A Life In Music," yet another
retrospective of the King's career. The four-CD package
includes a thick booklet of photographs and liner notes
documenting each song's origin and circumstances surrounding
the performance.
It's a very pretty package, with a fine selection of
songs, but why in the world do we need another Elvis
retrospective? Anticipating this criticism, Platinum begins
with a justification of its existence, never a good sign for a
collection. Its purpose "is to complement, not duplicate,
previously issued retrospectives," according to the liner
notes. The hook here is that Platinum contains a number of
"unreleased performances," primarily live versions
or alternate takes of well-known songs. Wring the Presley
estate hard enough, apparently, and hey presto, out pops an
early version of "Suspicious Minds" or
"Heartbreak Hotel."
Listening to Platinum, I found myself wondering what
Elvis himself would have thought of this practice. The King
was a master craftsman in the studio, working tirelessly to
capture on tape the vision of the song he held in his head.
The "alternate takes" of songs in Platinum and other
collections are alternate, yes, but they're also castoffs,
often unacceptable because they lacked the heart, soul or
muscle of the version of record. The "Suspicious
Minds" included here is a plodding shadow of the
"real" version; the production here on "Burning
Love" is unbalanced, the vocal forced and almost
tentative.
That said, this is Elvis we're talking about
here. When he was on his game, there was no one better. His
grace and inventiveness behind the microphone, particularly in
the early days, were beyond compare, and this collection shows
that range. Platinum's liner notes, with the benefit of
hindsight, document the King's influence across the spectrum
of popular music.
But Elvis was no child prodigy. He worked for what he
got. Platinum's version of "That's All Right" shows
a very young Elvis and his band working through the song in
fits and starts, finally locking into the song's signature
groove. "How Great Thou Art" is a magnificent,
openhearted testament to faith, while "Blueberry
Hill" seethes with raw sexual passion.
In the end, Elvis's tragic flaw was self-indulgence,
the evil twin of passion. The longer he lived and the richer
he became, the more he created his own private world.
Graceland is nothing if not an arrested adolescent's version
of how an adult should live. Elvis's desire to challenge
himself musically waned as he grew older, and much of his
Seventies material is so overproduced and melodramatic as to
be unlistenable. This is where Platinum's live takes serve a
real and necessary purpose. Audiences charged up Elvis, and
forced him to hold himself to a higher standard than he did in
the studio. A version of "An American Trilogy"
recorded onstage in Hawaii rises above mere jingoism here.
Platinum's "Steamroller Blues" was recorded at the
Mid-South Coliseum, and Elvis plays to and preens for the home
folks with evident affection.
No true collection of the King's could ignore his slow
musical decline, but Platinum manages to contain it. Execrable
nonsense like "In The Ghetto" is present, as is
silliness such as "Release Me," where Elvis spends
almost every moment between verses chittering into the
microphone like a drunken gorilla. For the music's sake,
perhaps Elvis should have flamed out young like James Dean,
Buddy Holly or Kurt Cobain, before he had a chance to
embarrass himself. But then, he'd just be an icon, not a
demigod.
Bottom line--Platinum is great stuff, but it's nothing
new, and in too many cases not at all necessary. It also
perpetuates the disheartening trend of plundering the vaults
of the dead for every last musical nugget. One wonders what
sort of "new" releases will arrive next
anniversary--Elvis singing "Don't Be Cruel" in the
shower? Crooning "Hound Dog" on the Colonel's
answering machine? Belching out "Can't Help Falling In
Love" during a sound check? Call it a day, RCA, and let
the King rest in peace.
...and in
response, I got this reply:
To the Editor:
I am writing in response to the "review" of
Platinum: A Life in Music [August 7th issue]. The artist is
Elvis Presley. I believe that James Busbee should stick to
reviewing the music, not the man. The first two paragraphs
have nothing to do with the review of Platinum, especially the
analogy in which a friend of Busbee asks if Memphians are
addicted to Elvis as a crack addict is addicted to smoking
rock.
I am from Memphis and I am very much into the music and the
man, but there are many more Memphians who shy away because
media such as The Memphis Flyer focus on the strange,
peculiar, and weird Elvis fan. Then the non-Elvis fan
perceives that all Elvis fans are mental cases. This gives
Elvis a bad image.
The last few paragraphs are really tasteless as they become
sarcastic, saying Elvis should have flamed out young like
James Dean, Buddy Holly, or Kurt Cobain. Dean and Holly were
killed in accidents. Cobain committed suicide. Let me remind
you Elvis died of a heart attack at 42. Why can't the
"Weird Media" accept that?
More than one person has died of a heart attack at age 42 or
less. The media make Elvis out as a demi-god. His fans know he
was just a down-to-earth, caring, generous human being with
problems and faults. How many Cadillacs has [Busbee] given
away to people that did not have cars? Stick to reviewing the
music, not the man, because you can't fairly judge him if you
don't know him.
Paul Tremmel
Memphis
|
