The Encyclopedia of Dead Rock Stars (49 page)

Some theories have him living incognito outdoors, jollying the inmates of nursing homes – even inhabiting a lunar camp – so perhaps Elvis is holed up somewhere in Iraq? In the spring of 2004, US intelligence couldn’t direct us to any WMDs; however, they did unearth a giant portrait of popular culture’s most recognizable icon among those of prominent Islamic figures. But, despite what some think, the King is dead. So – long may he live, his image (well, that of his best years) preserved for all eternity as adornment for pretty much anything one cares to choose. Even toilet seats.

‘Every time I think I’m getting old and gradually heading to the grave - something else happens.’

Elvis Presley

In fact, Elvis Aron Presley (‘Aaron’ was a posthumous misspelling) believed a few unquantifiable theories himself – one such being that he had inherited the strength of his stillborn twin, Jesse Garon. Whether true or not, Elvis managed to pull himself up from the ‘shotgun shack’ of his childhood to realize probably the greatest international success popular music will ever know. The first good move was the one that Presley and his working parents made when he was thirteen, from Tupelo to the Lauderdale Courts housing project in Memphis, just a stone’s throw from Beale Street, with its rich musical heritage. Here, Elvis dropped his
Captain Marvel
comics and picked up the guitar bought him when a bicycle was deemed too expensive by his folks. That was the second good move. Near by were Sun Studios, where, five years later, Elvis recorded a $4 acetate of popular ballads ‘My Happiness’ and, conversely, ‘That’s When Your Heartaches Begin’ as a belated birthday present to his mother, Gladys. Just as impressed as Presley’s doting mom was Sam Phillips, the foresighted head of Sun, who, after a couple of false starts, placed the mysterious young singer with musicians Bill Black (bass/upright bass) and Scotty Moore (guitar). ‘That’s All Right (Mama)’ (1954) was recorded by chance, a local hit that put Presley in demand for live appearances. Still considered a country/rockabilly act – he never quite cut it as a gospel singer – Presley was offered regular Grand Ole Opry and
Louisiana Hayride
showcases, where the singer’s unique performances proved something of an eye-opener, not least to the wily ‘Colonel’ Tom Parker.

Elvis and the Colonel in a rare ‘role-reversal’ scenario?

By the end of 1955 Parker had lured Presley away from the limitations of Sun, contracting him to a very favourable deal (ie, favourable to Parker – though it was later renegotiated as a 50/50 split) with the promotions company Parker shared with country star Hank Snow, and Phillips signed over the burgeoning star to RCA Victor for $35K. Parker’s guile has since, of course, been heavily criticized in the vast forests of press about Elvis, but it should be remembered that as a manager/entrepreneur he was second to none, seizing the moment spectacularly for his new charge: all licensing (guitars, plates, pillow cases – whatever) was sewn up from day one – remarkable, given that this kind of phenomenon had never been seen before – and a seven-picture movie deal was also unprecedented. That Elvis was unhappy with the admittedly hokum films is neither here nor there: he was under strict contract and if that meant singing ‘Old Macdonald’s Farm’ (in 1967’s
Double Trouble),
then sing it he would. His records weren’t hokum, of course: all releases between the two-month chart-topper ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ (1956) and ‘Jailhouse Rock’ (1957) remain exuberant, as do many that followed – though his pin-up status inevitably demanded the somewhat more dispensable ballads. As ‘Jailhouse Rock’ enjoyed its fourth of seven weeks atop the charts, a more established US institution came knocking. Presley was called up for service, commencing April 1958, his now-familiar locks shorn – perhaps some of that ‘strength’ disappearing with them. Erstwhile fan John Lennon was just one who felt the quality of his recorded output dropped off after Elvis’s return to civilian life in 1960. Commercially, he still possessed clout – though he was subsequently considered less ‘essential’ than, well, Lennon, for one. The socalled British Invasion pushed Presley from number one for seven years until the excellent ‘Suspicious Minds’ (US, 1969) and the lesser ‘The Wonder of You’ (UK, 1970) returned him to the top of the charts. This was a revised Elvis, however – one that had eschewed the shirts and jeans of old to deck himself out in post-Humperdinck/Jones slashed, sequinned suits and medallions for an audience that had grown up since the night they screamed at his ‘unholy’ gyrations on
The Ed Sullivan Show
a decade before. Now, Presley fans were content to sit quietly at cabaret venues, counting themselves lucky to receive just a glint of that distant smile.

Although in his younger days a believer in celibacy before marriage, Elvis had many noted ‘unofficial’ relationships, including with actresses Ann-Margret, Cybill Shepherd and Natalie Wood, plus beauty queen Linda Thompson. The love of his life, however, was his young wife, Priscilla Beaulieu. When she was just a teenager and Presley was serving his country, he had wooed Priscilla, the life he offered more attractive than the one she actually experienced while at Graceland. Although he undoubtedly worshipped her, Elvis never matured sufficiently to leave bachelorhood behind, his rough, tough, gun-packing ‘Memphis Mafia’ buddies sticking around even after the couple’s wedding. Presley was nonetheless a good father to his daughter, Lisa Marie, born in 1968, a time when – perhaps not uncoincidentally – the singer appeared to be at physical peak. Before his dramatic decline he weighed in at 168 lbs and, reportedly, trained ‘like a fighter’. During 1973, though, Presley’s separation from Priscilla precipitated his legendary unhealthy eating and abuse of drugs. Sleeping mainly by day (he’d always suffered from insomnia), he became addicted to placidyls – just the start of a well-documented reliance upon pills which, as a man of no few morals (if a curtailed education), he justified on the grounds that they had been ‘professionally prescribed’. By the mid seventies Elvis was frequently unable to complete live performances, so exhausted was he by his habit. By late 1976 he had a new fiancée, 20-year-old actress/model Ginger Alden – but looked a bloated distortion of his former self.

‘Elvis? He died when he went into the army.’

John Lennon, 1980

On the evening of 16 August 1977, the media sizzled like a deep-fried peanut butter and bacon sandwich. It was true: the King was dead at forty-two. That afternoon, Alden had awoken, surprised to find herself alone in the bed at Graceland. Investigating Elvis’s en suite bathroom, she discovered the singer naked, slumped face down by his toilet – a hugely unflattering end to a life most glamorous. Confirmed dead on his 3.30 pm arrival at Baptist Memorial Hospital, the King’s passing was initially put down to a heart attack – his mother, beside whom he was eventually interred, had died this way. This has since been discounted, the singer’s death now attributed to cardiac arrhythmia and hypertensive cardiovascular disease, almost certainly precipitated by a sudden, massive intake of prescription drugs (as opposed to the ‘straining a stool’ verdict so beloved of the star’s detractors). Within hours, several thousand had gathered outside his home; Presley’s body lay in state at Graceland for three days before the circus surrounding his funeral commenced. Tens of thousands lined the streets as a seemingly endless procession of vehicles headed to Forest Hills Cemetery after a brief service attended by few celebrity faces (according to reports, just Ann-Margret, James Brown and George Hamilton). Of course, many stars paid tribute later, Lennon break-ing a self-imposed silence, though Bob Dylan reportedly fell into depression. Presley’s body was returned to Graceland – at a later date, and under the cover of night, after an attempted body snatch.

Following his death, Presley’s best record in ages, ‘Way Down’, topped the UK charts – one of thirty-seven US/UK number ones to his name as his music continues to sell. As a corporation, ‘Elvis Inc’ has probably turned over in excess of $100 million since his departure: one suspects that even an improbable return from the ether couldn’t increase the market domination the King continues to hold
(
DeadInteresting!),
though there are millions who hope – and wait …

See also
Bill Black (
October 1965); Colonel Tom Parker (
Golden Oldies #4); Sam Phillips (
Golden Oldies #15)

DEAD INTERESTING!

YOU CAN’T TAKE IT WITH YOU

A 2005 survey showed that Elvis was, unsurprisingly, very much popular music’s big-earner six feet under. Thanks to CD/DVD sales, television rights, books, etc, the King’s estate raked in almost $45 million (£25 million), almost three decades after his death.