Has the King risen?
August 16, 2007
I was about to write a little post about this being the 30th anniversary of the death of Elvis (and how now, with the death of the Weekly World News, even if he does rise, who will tell us?) when I caught a whiff of deja vu. It’s a sign either that I’ve been doing this too long or that I need new stories, because sure enough, I’ve told the story about my Elvis Time before. But hey, if you didn’t read it then, it’s new to you, right?
About 10 (now 12) years ago, I was going on vacation with my not-yet wife, and when we were vacation book shopping before the trip, she idly pointed out the book Elvis People: The Cult of the King (knowing of my interest in the wackiness of religion and my history of playing rock-n-roll). It’s by a BBC religious affairs reporter, and looks at how some of the aspects of Elvis admiration have the marks of the beginnings of an offshoot of Christianity (for an example, look here). Fun read, and since I’d gotten started, I read a couple more Elvis things on the trip (like the classic Elvis: What Happened?).
Later that summer, I was putting out feelers for a band to play in (as I’ve done many times over the years), and I get a call from… an Elvis cover band! Not a true “impersonator” (the Elvis-guy tells me), but more “channelling the spirit of The King”. How could I not? It was destiny. So, for the next year, I played lead guitar for a quite bad Elvis cover band. They were bad enough that I would have stopped sooner (or never started), but I couldn’t help myself. So, we played some gigs, I got to play not just the classics (like “Hound Dog” and “Jailhouse Rock”), but the schlocky later stuff (like “Suspicious Minds”), and I got to add “Lead Guitarist, Elvis cover band” to my musical resume.
Eventually, the joke got old. But what doesn’t? Oh yeah, Elvis — who died at 42.
Happy birthday, E. I’ll have a deep-fried peanut butter and banana sandwich in your honor.
So, there’s a little reverie of my little bit of participating in the legacy of The King (beyond, you know, banging out Jailhouse Rock and Hound Dog 1000 times in nasty dives during college). And even though it means that for me, the opening bars of Strauss’ Also Sprach Zarathustra will always be not 2001 but “Here’s Elvis in a White Sequined Jumpsuit“, I will still always treasure the memory.
Thank you. Thank you very much.
