#elvis home recordings

[hooked-on-elvis]

I am currently listening to "ELVIS: THE HOME RECORDINGS" (a collection of Elvis Presley's home recordings from the 1950s and 1960s) and I find incredible hearing him singing songs in that unprompted way, just having fun with friends and family, and then listen to the professional version he recorded years later.

Those are some of Elvis' personal favorites songs, folks. 🩷🥹 Here's some of them:

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"HANDS OFF" (or "KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF OF IT") Home recording: Fall 1960, at Monovale Drive, Hollywood (one of Elvis' homes). Studio recording: Elvis recorded this song again during a jam session at Nashville RCA's studio B in June 5th, 1970. The song was recorded in a version in conjunction with "Got My Mojo Working". The track was first release on the LP "Love Letters From Elvis" (1971).

2. "INDESCRIBABLY BLUE" Home recording: February 1966 at Rocca Place, Hollywood (another of Elvis' homes). Studio recording: Elvis recorded this song professionally, not long after, in June 10, 1966. It was first released by RCA Records as a single on January 10, 1967, backed with "Fools Fall in Love". It was releases in a LP as part of the "Elvis' Gold Records Volume 4" (January, 1968).

3. "AFTER LOVING YOU" Home recording: Recorded around 1966. Can you listen to Elvis' voice here being pretty much the same in the 1969 version? His voice by 1966 was already so improved. It's weird how they kept Elvis from singing what he really wanted to sing in order to keep the soundtrack albums going on. I'm not complaining, per say, because I don't actually hate the soundtrack songs of his movies, but we know Elvis himself was pretty beaten having to record what he called "silly songs" over the ones he truly loved, like this one (as we can see by the way he sings the song wholeheartedly).

Studio recording: During the American Sound Studio's legendary recording session under Chips Moman production, Elvis recorded this song professionally in 18th Feb, 1969, in Memphis, Tennessee.

My personal favorite. ♥ My absolute favorite Elvis album is "From Elvis In Memphis", no doubt. Hearing the home recording version of "After Loving You" is just priceless to me.

4. "WHAT NOW MY LOVE"

Home recording: Recorded sometime around 1966 too. Again, Elvis literally was kept from singing many great songs for a long time because of his Hollywood movie contracts, not to speak about the RCA deals causing the songwriters disputes over rights and proper payment. Long story short, the songwriters did not want to give up 25% of the rights to the compositions to Hill and Range Publishings and the other Presley publishing companies that published his recording materials. So Elvis ended up with some (crappy) less powerful songs to record for many, many years. Some of the songs he truly wanted to record thanks Heaven were brought to day light. Elvis had a great taste in music. (I just wonder how many more amazing songs recorded by his powerful voice we would have today if it wasn't for the tricky record deals he was under.)

Live version:  On January 14, 1973, Elvis Presley performed the song before a live audience of 1 billion people, as part of his satellite show, "Aloha from Hawaii", which was beamed to 43 countries via INTELSAT. Elvis' live rendition of the song is just breathtaking. You listen and see him performing it live and you just stop breathing. The song was first released on the live album "Aloha from Hawaii via Satellite" (February, 1973).

[myvinylplaylist]

Ramones: End Of The Century: The Story Of The Ramones (2005)

Rhino Home Video

Sire Records

[elvis-resercher-official]

Woah science, the Elvis population on tumblr.com has officially surpassed 50 Elvii, so it is nesesary in my scientific opinion to create a new pinned post that hold all of the sub lists!

May the Elvis population continue to thrive and potentially take over this hellsite we call home

Original list 1

Original list 2

Original list 3

Original list 4

Error 404 Ļ̵̰̥̩̫̝̥̥̮̟̾͒̇̈́̓̍̔̓͐͆̄í̶̢̢̛̹̩̥̖͙̤͚̹̳̬̝̻̘̤͈̝̬̖͍̉̔́͐̈̍͒̏̈́̽̈̈̓̇͗͛̚͝͠ͅs̶̛̙͖̯̮̗̱̼̯̉͋̔̉̔̌̓̿̓̇̐̕͠͠t̸̡̡̧̛̩̞̳̣̳̻̗̞̞̲͈͍͍͙̒̌̓̾̔ not found

Mod stuff:

I am here by dedicating this blog and myself to researching, recording, and cataloging the rapid spread of Elvii across tumblr.

This is the go to place for all things Elvis phenomenon (I have no idea what I’m doing)

Pronouns he/him (woah mama I’m a trans man)

Any hate of any kind will be blocked, this is a place for science, not bigotry. How could you desecrate the good pseudoscience of studying Elvis with hatred? Ridiculous.

[bellesdreamyprofile]

A Bike´s Roar - Benny Cross

summary: you've always been told that men couldn't love or care. benny proved you wrong.

Another day, another fight between your parents. Your father had given your mom the silent treatment for weeks and the first words he decided to speak were no words of forgiveness. Your mom deserved all the love and care in the world, so why couldn't he give that to her? Unfortunately, having grown up in that toxic household, your view of men changed drastically.

No man really cared. No man could love. No man could be a good man.

Not that you were in anybody's interest, but even just meeting someone's gaze would send you to a panic. Memories of your father yelling at your mother. Memories of your father degrading and belittling you. You just couldn't let yourself fall into that trap. A trap you couldn't get out of.

But there was a man that seemed to have found the way to your caged heart. Your Benny had the key for it. It all started with Kathy, who invited you to a meeting you knew nothing about — you later found out that it was a bikers get together, which you certainly didn't hate. You didn't hate it because that was the day you met Benny Cross. Easily the most beautiful man you had laid eyes on.

The crucial difference between Benny and any other man was that there were no flashbacks or alarm signals sent to your head. You felt at peace. You were absolutely fine with just stealing glances from a distance. But he caught your gaze and he couldn't let go anymore.

So he cleared his throat and patted his hands on his jeans, hands feeling unusually clammy. He looked over at you and noticed that your gaze had shifted to your friends. With confident strides, Benny made his way to you, making you look up from your fizzy drink. Kathy bit her cheek, hiding a smile and nodding at her other friend.

"I'm Benny.", he said and you felt a strange warmth stain your already rosy cheeks. His kind eyes couldn't give you a moment to overthink anything — no what ifs.

There was no overthinking even when his lips fell on yours or when your clothes landed on the floor of his small apartment. His hand brushing your long locks as your head rested on his warm chest, the skin to skin contact feeling incomparable to anything you had ever felt before. That was the peace you had been looking for your entire life. And you found that with him.

You flinched at the sound of a plate breaking and the following distasteful words that fell from your father's mouth. A sigh escaped your lips as you turned the volume of your record player a little higher, just enough that the voices would feel faint and distant. Your eyes shut as there was no way you could concentrate on your book again.

But there was a noise that an Elvis tune could not fade away - a bike's roar. You knew exactly who it belonged to for you spent many moons in the back of it with your Benny. You felt something heavy place in your chest, a sensation you had never felt before. A sensation that urged you to pack a small backpack and climb out of your window.

That was exactly what you did. You were seeking freedom. The person waiting for you outside had been seeking freedom all his life. So why not do it together?

You huffed as you jumped off the pipe, your hands automatically wiping the dirt off your pants. A chuckle made you look up and an instant smile made its way on your face.

"You laughin' at me now?", you asked, approaching him.

Benny shook his head and took another drag of his cigarette. "You know I would never, baby.", he stood up once you were standing in front of him, his large hands finding home on your hips. "Hi, baby."

"Hi.", you pecked his lips and offered him a small smile, which he reciprocated, but his eyes wandered to your house. "Thank you for comin' here. How'd you know?", you adjusted his collar and lolled your head to the side.

He threw the cigarette down and stomped on it. "Had a feelin' my girl needed me.", Benny's face moved closer to yours, catching a glimpse of the straps on your shoulders. "You packed a bag?"

You nodded, sighing. "Need some time away. If that's okay with you.", right as you spoke, another yell coming from your house filled the air. Benny's eyes moved in that direction and then back at you. You looked tired. Tired of being disappointed. Tired of not being appreciated. Tired of not being loved. 

"Couple days with my girl... Feels like I've won the lottery.", he said to make you smile and stamped a big kiss to your cheek. "Let's go, baby."

Once you hopped on that bike, you knew that there was no going back. Seeking freedom with your soulmate and the familiar sound of a bike's roar.

A/N: living in tough times so had to write it out. hope you enjoyed & let me know if you'd like something more specific xx

MASTERLIST benny masterlist

austin butler phone case 🌼

[tommys3ngel]

“You like The doors?”

Dallas winston x reader

A/N: i’m in the outsiders fandom aswell so i probably will be writing for Dallas as well as rockstars!

summery: Dallas finds out his recents soc girlfriends music taste.

warnings: fluff and kissing

𝄞☆ ✦ ★ ‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

You were walking home after a long day at school when you hear a car slow down beside you.

“heyah sweetheart!” Dallas called out. you turn and give him a small smile. “hi hon! what are you doing on this side of town?”.

“what? can a guy not pick up his pretty girl?” He replied sarcastically. he pulled over so you could get in. you two had just started dating which meant that your parents didn’t know, and honestly you didn’t know if you wanted to tell them anyway.

He drove the length to your house and parked into the driveway when you remembered that you’re parents won’t be home from work in awhile.

“do you wanna.. want to come in?” you ask already knowing his answer. You both reach the porch and you got your keys out to unlock the door.

once you did the faint smell of vanilla and wood fills your nose and Dallas’s. he’s never been in a house so nice, he swore that couch probably costed more than his life. He followed you up to your room and stood behind you holding your waist as you opened your door. He immediately sits on your bed and takes in the feel of your room. “what do you think?” you ask seeing as he’s tinkering around with things on your desk and shelves. “it definitely suits you. i could get used to this.”

as he moves around he finds your basket of records and your record player. he flips through them finding lots of old Elvis, the rollings stones.. he finally pulls up a record that recognizes very well.

“You listen to The doors?” he asks practically stars flashing in his eyes. He hadn’t known very many Soc girls who listen to anything but the beetles right now. you smiled and toke the record out of the sleeve and place it on the turntable and bring the needle to the grooves. music starts playing faintly as you looked at him. “Love them.” you said as music played faintly in the background. Taking his hands in yours you lead him to sit on the bed with you.

With one hand on your waist and the other turning your head to look at him he stared into your eyes.

“you’re cooler than i thought.”

“you’re softer than i thought.”

you saw the annoyed look he forced onto his face as you leaned in and pressed your lips against his.

[mrcrawly]

Dr. House is still some of the best autistic representation I've ever seen

I made my initial post a while ago, but I'm finally starting season 4 and I feel just as strongly about this. I did get a little bit of pushback on my initial post so let me be clear: I don't care if you disagree with me! I don't care if you don't think Dr. House is autistic! Do not get into my comments and be condescending about it! I'm autistic and this is my opinion! Make your own post about why you think Dr. House is neurotypical and leave me alone!

Disregard for social cues or normalities. I'm really driving this one home because every time I watch this show it shocks me how much he's like me. Not necessarily even because he's an asshole, but because he's just weird. This is old news, but he has an entire conversation with Wilson about how he's not good with first dates and conversations because either the topic of conversation is boring, or there's subtext, and to understand the subtext you need "a decoder ring." Hm yes very neurotypical thing to say. He doesn't have much sense of boundaries or privacy, and regularly embarrasses Wilson or will discuss something gross with Cuddy while someone else is around. He also says pretty gross things in public and in inappropriate situations, even if just to be funny. Some of this is just generally him being an asshole, but I think some of this is genuinely a lack of understanding in how to interact with people. Sometimes he just plainly doesn't respond when asked a question or spoken to when he doesn't know what to say or doesn't want to speak.

Strong sense of justice and morality. I mention this a little in my initial post, but I don't remember if it was its own point. House gets angry when people endanger his patients, and will get angry at anyone, no matter who, if their decision hurts his patient. When Wilson was too afraid to put his foot down and insist that the family accept House's treatment in "Family," he gets pissed off at Wilson and tells him he's a "coward." He apologizes for this after because it was uncalled for, and Wilson's intentions were good, but nevertheless he was right. This is not me saying that House is a particularly moral individual. If you took a shot every time he violated very basic ethical principles you would die of alcohol poisoning before you reached the second season of the show. But House's concern is his patient's life. In his mind, if his actions save his patient's life, it is ultimately moral. When his team fucks up and risks their patient, he gets pissed off and will humiliate them so they understand the gravity of their mistake.

Specific and niche interests. I mention in my initial post that he has very few interests (mostly General Hospital and his job), but since the first couple seasons I've gotten more a feel for his love of music. He owns live recordings of Elvis on vinyl. He owns more than one guitar (from what I saw of his apartment). Music is kind of his thing. To take that a little further, it seems like he collects things. This is by no means necessarily an autistic trait, but collecting is very common with autistic people who have special interests. I collect Spiderman merchandise, for example.

Resistant to change. I don't think I'd seen the episode yet, but after he's shot at the end of season 2, he insists that the carpet that's been stained with his blood is kept. He goes as far as to annoy everyone incessantly in order to get his carpet back. House is also just generally the kind of person who wants things exactly how he wants them. He doesn't like people messing with his things or for his environment to change, even when the inconvenience is simple and ultimately unimportant. In the last episode of season 3, Wilson says this pretty plainly. House has played the same guitar since eighth grade, driven the same car for ten years, and been living in the same place for fifteen. Change just isn't his thing. It's often hard for autistic people to adapt to significant changes because of the way they process information. Change is overwhelming.

Observant and analytical. When Wilson starts yawning, he doesn't just write this off or explain it, he immediately starts considering every possible reason and deducing why he's yawning. House likes puzzles, and symptomology is his thing. He also definitely violated Wilson's trust by spiking his coffee with amphetamines, but he did so based on a line of logic and reason. This isn't necessarily an autistic characteristic, but it is fairly common among some autistic people to view a course of action or event through the lense of logic rather than considering the emotional consequences. I do this a lot. House is also especially blunt and almost excessively honest. He does lie (obviously), but when it really matters to be honest he will be, and he won't mince his words for people's comfort. This is going back to differences in how he experiences empathy.

This post is honestly probably boring, because I'm really just driving my initial points home. Again, I don't really think that House MD discusses autism in the most meaningful or accurate way, but House feels more authentic to me than actual, intentional autistic representation. Also, some of these things can be attributed to depression or House's problems with attachment; this is just my perspective on some things.

[vintageshanny]

Zippers and Kisses

This is just a flirty fantasy I’ve created in my mind after reading the story behind these pictures in Shirley Connell’s book.

Content: Elvis being the marvelously complex person that he was - confident, insecure, sweet, funny, etc. PG13 I think?

October 1976

“See? I told you that it was him!” Trudy exclaimed triumphantly as she whipped her car into the gas station parking lot. “I’d recognize that sexy bod anywhere,” she added with a giggle.

“Me too,” Effie whispered, almost to herself, her heart pounding out of her chest as she watched Elvis climb off his motorcycle and saunter into the building. “Don’t let Jim hear you say that, though,” she warned her friend.

Trudy rolled her eyes at the mention of her husband’s jealousy of Elvis. “Yeah, I guess you’ll have to do all the flirting tonight.”

“I’ll be lucky if I can remember my name,” Effie murmured as she got out of the car, somehow propelling herself forward as if she wasn’t about to have the most surreal experience of her life.

As they approached the building, Elvis came walking back out with two of his guys following close behind.

“Hey Trudy honey, how’ve ya been?” Elvis asked, nodding at her and Effie.

Trudy could never fully grasp that Elvis knew her name, even after years of hanging out by the gate and talking to him whenever she got the chance.

“Good, Elvis, it’s so nice to see you. This is my friend Effie, she’s visiting Memphis for a few weeks and really wanted to meet you.”

Elvis looked over intrigued as Trudy discreetly backed away and started a conversation with the guys. She knew Effie really wanted to talk to Elvis alone, but that was never easy these days.

“Ya really wanted ta meet me?” he asked, sounding oddly flattered, as if there were not millions of women dying to meet him.

“Of course. I mean, I’m such a big fan of yours. I have all of your records,” Effie rambled nervously, sounding like a starstruck teenager instead of the 29-year-old woman she was. Elvis looked amused as she continued on. “I’m sorry, I’m so nervous. I, um, I just think you’re so special.”

Elvis’ smile widened noticeably at that. “Aw honey, ain’t no need ta be nervous around little old me. I’m just a regular guy.”

“A regular guy out for a midnight motorcycle ride with an entourage and a pack of groupies following.” Effie laughed, finally letting herself relax.

“Exactly. Oh, did ya wanna see my badge?” Elvis suddenly asked excitedly, unzipping his jacket to show off the badge on his belt.

“Oh wow, it’s sparkly!” Effie exclaimed as she leaned down to get a closer look.

“I had some diamonds added to it,” Elvis explained proudly, looking down with a smile as she studied the badge. He tilted it a little bit so she could see the diamonds better. He saw her eyes trail to the rings on his fingers and then to something else below his belt.

Effie’s eyes widened as she noticed a little glinting piece of metal that was not in its proper position. She blushed as she thought how easy it would be to reach her hand into that opening in the fabric and touch the bulge that was nestled there. She blushed even harder when she looked up and saw Elvis staring down with a little crooked smirk on his face.

“Honey, somehow I don’t think you’re lookin’ at the badge anymore. Somethin’ else caught your eye?” he teased, his tongue slipping out to lick his lips.

“Yes, I mean it’s just that...” Effie leaned in close to him and lowered her voice. “It’s just that your zipper is down,” she whispered.

“It is?” Now it was Elvis’ turn to blush as he reached down and yanked the zipper up hurriedly. He tried to pull the zipper up on his jacket as well, feeling suddenly much too exposed. He should’ve just stayed home tonight.

Effie watched as Elvis fumbled with the zipper on his jacket, his cheeks turning pinker by the second. He’s embarrassed and self-conscious, she thought to herself, her heart melting at the realization.

She put her hands on his and gently instructed, “Let me help you.” She carefully lined up the zipper and pulled it halfway up, noticing with delight how the jacket pulled tautly across his soft middle.

“Thank ya, honey,” Elvis mumbled, feeling like a fool.

How to get back to that flirty banter? Effie wondered. Time to be bold. “Y’know, I would’ve helped you with your other zipper too.”

There was that beautiful lopsided grin again. “Is that right, honey?”

“Yes, look how good I am at making sure the teeth are all lined up right.” She trailed her finger down the zipper of his jacket, letting her hand rest on his stomach.

“Oh baby, I don’t think I want ya usin’ any teeth down there at all,” Elvis laughed.

Effie’s face turned red, but Elvis’ loud uninhibited laugh was contagious, and she couldn’t stop herself from giggling.

“You didn’t have to come out here with your zipper down to get my attention, I would’ve been looking anyway,” she teased.

Elvis grinned and looked away, shaking his head a little as he blushed again. “You’re really somethin’, honey, y’know that?”

“I mean it, Elvis. You look so good. So good,” she repeated

“Tryin ta butter me up, huh? That must mean ya want somethin’. What can I do for ya baby?”

Effie felt her body go into some sort of sensory overload as Elvis grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in close to him, still smiling as his fingertips caressed her lower back.

“Well,” she squeaked out. “As long as you’re offering, I would love a kiss.”

“A kiss?” Elvis repeated, leaning in closer, relishing the feeling of a woman’s soft body reacting to his touch.

Effie nodded, unable to form words any longer as Elvis’ lips moved closer, slightly parted. His breath was warm and sweet against her own as his plush mouth finally landed on hers. She felt a soft flick of his tongue against her lips before he pulled back, the expression on his face as blissful as she felt.

“How was that honey?” he asked, his eyes searching her face for reassurance that he still had something special to offer.

“My whole body is tingling,” Effie whispered, her judgment clouded from her state of euphoria.

“Mine too,” Elvis chuckled. “I might have some more zipper problems soon.”

“Well you know who to call for help.” Effie smiled up at him as he gave her another tight squeeze before turning to get his helmet from one of his guys.

“I hope I see ya around again, honey. Don’t forget about me.”

“Well?” Trudy demanded as they got back to the car. “I gave you some time alone with him. Was it everything you’ve dreamed of?”

“He was so sweet and vulnerable and human.” Effie leaned back in her seat, still in a daze. “I think I can die happy,” she whispered.

[classica-meretrix]

Indecent

pairing: elvis presley x fem!reader genre: fluff content/warnings: suggestive, but it's just mostly cutesy summary: elvis steals you away from the party

I broke away from Sonny and the girl on his arm, ducking into the kitchen to refill my drink. As I set down the pitcher a warm body rested against me, followed by a low southern drawl.

"Whatcha doing there, baby?" Elvis spoke as he softly ran his hands up my arms.

"Gettin' a drink," I answered as I twirled around to face him, leaving my glass on the counter. "You want something? There's some soda in the fridge and some beer outside."

"Nah, I'm alright." He cast a glance over his shoulder. We were the only two in the kitchen. Gladys was just in the dining room, chatting with some of the guests. "C'mere," he whispered, talking my hand and heading to the door into the den hallway.

"What are we doing?" I asked, but he only responded by putting a finger to his lips and silently opening the door. He lead me down the hall and out into the carport.

There was a nip in the air, and it was cold enough we'd left the extra cases of beer outside. Elvis stopped at the back of his pink Cadillac, pulling me to his chest.

"Hi baby."

"Hi," I mumbled, starstruck by the wonder of a man in front of me.

He smiled, rocking us back and forth. "Haven't seen ya all night. Been missing ya." He took a step back, holding my hands out. "Let me get a look at you." He spun me around, looking me up and down.

"The dress is new. I bought it just for tonight."

"Well, you look stunning in it, darling." He pulled me flush against him again, kissing the corner of my mouth. "Can't get enough of you.," he hummed as he made his way to my jaw.

I let out a small laugh, my cheeks heating up at his words. He moved back up to my lips, kissing me passionately as we slowly backed up, stopping when I felt the cold metal of the Cadillac against my legs. His hands roamed my body, running the folds of my skirt through his fingers. I forced myself to break the kiss, Elvis moving back down to my neck.

"Elvis," I breathed out. "Don't you think this is a little indecent? Your mama's hardly six feet from that door."

He laughed as he pulled away from my skin, looking me in the eyes. "A little necking never killed anyone."

"Elvis!" I whispered yelled, fighting back a smile as I tugged on his collar.

"You wanna see indecent, baby?" He teased, a devilish smirk on his lips. Before I had time to respond he picked me up and laid me on the back of the Cadillac, bringing his lips back to mine as he crawled over me.

I ran my hands under the collar of his shirt, grabbing at him. He moved one hand to stroke my side as he kissed me, softly moaning into my mouth.

Suddenly the back door swung open as Billy's drunk slurs called back into the house, "In your dreams, Jerry!"

Elvis was off of me in a second, pulling me to the ground behind the Cadillac. I laid pinned to his chest as we both watched Billy's boots appear around the corner. He was whistling a song off of the new record everyone was here to celebrate as he grabbed a couple beers from the case.

Shortly, he disappeared into the house again.

Elvis and I both let out sighs of relief before meeting each other's eyes again. We burst into laughter.

"Hiding around like school children in my own home," he tsked with a smile. "What are we? 11?" We both let out another fit of laughter as I dropped my head to his chest.

After we took a moment to pull ourselves together, we stood up, walking to the door. Elvis placed a soft kiss on my temple, hand in mine, as he followed me in the door. We had hardly made it into the kitchen before Gladys was all over us.

"Oh there you are, Boobie! What were y'all doing outside?"

"Just getting some fresh air, Mama."

"Why don't you come in and sit at the piano. Play us something."

"Of course, Satnin."

Gladys turned to head back to the dining room as Elvis ran his thumb over my hand, giving a glance and smile over his shoulder as he followed his mother. I smiled to myself as I returned to my long-forgotten drink.

[hooked-on-elvis]

"It's No Fun Being Lonely"

Home Recording - February 1966

[should-know-better]

I came across a copy of a French music magazine, “Rock & Folk” with TLSP on the cover. Here’s the scans and interview (via Google Translate). Enjoy! ☺️

THE LAST SHADOW PUPPETS

THE POP LIGHT CAN COME FROM TWO SCRUBBY BRITISH KIDS. AN ARCTIC MONKEY, ALEX TURNER AND HIS BUDDY, MILES KANE UNVEIL THIS INCREDIBLE PROJECT. BY PHILIPPE MANOEUVRE, PHOTOS BY CHLOE DES LYSSES.

A pop, pop, pop world? Why not? But here we return again and again, to the same abracadabra concept of the pop masterpiece. Everyone knows pop masterpieces, everyone has their own favourite. Tell me your pop masterpiece and I'll tell you who you are. Because since the beginnings of the Beatles - and even Elvis had already indicated the direction with "Heartbreak Hotel" - modern pop has never stopped going back and forth between raw discharges of ultra-violent electricity and research into atmospheres, and especially melodies.

For the May 68 special edition, we meet Philippe Paringaux, retired from Paris but not from rock. Working from his Brittany home on numerous musical translations, personal writings, and other works, Paringaux never stops listening and re-listening to rock, like the rest of us. His vision is clear: "From 1962 to 1972," he explains, "we experienced the age of melody. Then it dried up, and since then, we've experienced something else." The era of the riff? The great shaker world? Something else.

Extraordinarily, the examples of the great masters remain. We could have filled a column with them, with sleeves and notes to back them up. But a simple statement of the facts will suffice for the reader: "Pet Sounds", “Rubber Soul”, “…Melody Nelson”, the White Album and "Abbey Road”, “Ziggy Stardust”, Roxy Music, Marc Bolan, Scott Walker, Todd Rundgren, Big Star Dwight, Twilley Band, Robert Wyatt's "Rock Bottom," Love, Gene Clark, The Byrds, and CSN&Y. Not to mention Phil Spector's Wall of Sound. There it is, very hastily summarized, the pop of rock 'n' roll. Sometimes it's good to sort and organize your ideas. Especially when you're writing about the Arctic Monkeys.

A band that appears in these columns on the express recommendation of Hedi Slimane. When the first album comes out, it's immediately madness in Great Britain: on the day of the record's release, 300,000 buyers. And it should be noted, there's no local smear campaign, no old fogey explaining that it was better before, that they should have rehearsed more. No, the very British Monkeys fever attracts colossal worldwide attention, the forums go wild, and the Arctic Monkeys become the darlings of festivals overnight, offering their frenetic, tense, and hard-hitting rock to totally captivated crowds. It's beautiful, a rock 'n' roll country.

London, very special correspondent

Precisely, on this Monday in February, Great Britain is warming up under a timid spring sunshine. From St Pancras, we take a cab to a faux-designer, truly posh hotel. We're munching on a lukewarm burger when our guests for the day, Miles Kane and Alex Turner, arrive. With their shrew-like looks and bowl cuts, they look like two runaway schoolboys who've come to flirt in the hotel bar. In fact, our two pop stars have left their respective bands to record a kind of improbable kind of UFO, a twelve-track album that's like a collision of an entire, ultra-enjoyable catalog of pop effects plucked from a fertile past. Are there any songs, or have our two buddies simply piled on the effects to feign the real thing? Impossible to say before a hundred listens. But judging by the reception on radio and some TV stations, there's a risk of a small tsunami surrounding this record, something nothing in the Arctic Monkeys' two albums could have predicted.

Putting down their sodas, Alex in a pea coat and Miles in a jacket introduce themselves and follow the press officer into a simple conference room. The decor is reminiscent of a police office. A table, three chairs, and a pencil lying there. Everyone opts for coffees at the generous suggestion of the hostess. Here we go...

Rock&Folk: OK, here we go... And the questions are plentiful... Where did this record come from? How did the idea come about? Who's behind it? Your respective bands, what do they think of it?

Miles Kane: That's a lot of questions!

Alex Turner: There's a lot of people at the door!

Miles Kane: Please choose your questions (general laughter).

R&F: OK... it's your turn!

Miles Kane: Once upon a time...

Alex Turner: Ah, you're starting from there?

Miles Kane: From the beginning of our romance, yes.

Alex Turner: Years ago... Miles was playing in his band, the Rascals, and I was playing in my band, the Arctic Monkeys. We did our first tour together. And then something happened, we became friends. Miles and his band toured with us again, a friendship was born, and we said to ourselves... Anyway, we made this project that...

Miles Kane: One day...

Alex Turner: So, one day, we would make an album together.

R&F: So what's the name of the band?

Miles Kane: This is the first interview we're giving. It's pretty important for us to tell you, because we haven't told any journalists yet, you'll be the first to know, it's going to be called...

Alex Turner: It's called The Last Shadow Puppets.

R&F: Wow!

Alex Turner: I like first times.

R&F: Are you the same age?

Alex Turner and Miles Kane: Yeah, yeah, sure, okay, the same, that's it, yeah.

Alex Turner: Miles is from Liverpool. I lived two hours away...

Miles Kane: After two years, our friendship has become amazing. Hasn’t it, Alex?

Alex Turner: Totally!

Miles Kane: And we made the record, but not just any record, because we decided to create—very dramatically on our part!—an epic masterpiece-

R&F: Totally pop nonetheless...

Alex Turner: Yes, pop, so what?

R&F: Listening to this record might be quite a shock for the Arctic Monkeys fan...

Alex Turner: Very true.

Miles Kane: Sorry, we listened to the album "Scott Walker Sings Jacques Brel" and I wouldn't say it changed our lives, no, but it had a huge impact on us.

Alex Turner: Exactly.

Miles Kane: Scott Walker and Bowie, always Bowie of course.

Humor, dignity, and madeleines

R&F: To continue very quickly, we noted influences on this record from Lee Hazlewood, Phil Spector, Ennio Morricone, Love, The Byrds, Burt Bacharach, Scott Walker, Suede, Gainsbourg...

Miles Kane: Don't forget the Beatles and especially David Axelrod, for the strings. For example, "My Mistakes Were Made For You" is a tribute. We even found Axelrod's drum sound, identical strings, everything.

R&F: For our photographer, "it sounds like film music"...

Alex Turner: That’s it. We wanted to make a cinematic album.

R&F: Miles, your favourite film?

Miles Kane: The "Pink Panther" series. (chuckles).

R&F: From the first song, the rhythm races, it's like a spaghetti western...

Alex Turner: Absolutely. We wanted to make this record, I wanted to get these songs out of my head, OK? We met a guy named James Ford who had worked with the Monkeys and Miles too. We set aside two weeks in the summer and, immediately after the Benicassim festival, in the middle of August, Miles, James, and I left for the Black Box studio not far from Angers, in the smiling French countryside.

Miles Kane: Two weeks in France! We had never drunk so much red wine, devoured so many cakes. Do you know madeleine?

R&F: Madeleines? What do you mean, madeleines (follows a long rant about Proust and the Search for Lost Time)?

Alex Turner: Well, I'm addicted to madeleines.

R&F: Listening to the record, we wondered what strange drug had presided over the creation of this album?

Alex Turner: Madeleines.

Miles Kane: Come on, Phil, it's the new trendy high, admit it!

R&F: We find it hard to believe that mushrooms didn't play a role in your lush creation...

Alex Turner (laughs): No, no mushrooms entered the composition of this record, no... On the other hand, the idyllic atmosphere of sunsets, dawns over the countryside, all that, yes...

Miles Kane: Stop it, we didn't leave the studio for two weeks!

Which mentor?

R&F: Tell us about James Ford. Is he the mentor behind the whole project?

Miles Kane: Mentor? Alex and I write the songs, after all.

Alex Turner: James plays the drums, he does all the drums. He plays a lot of bass, keyboards, but in a way this record was made by three of us, the two of us and him. James plays the drums not too loudly while all modern drummers pound heavily like furious people. He digs the rhythm, discreet and chic, it's important...

R&F: At the same time, pop project or not, the sound remains rough, not polished. In short, an overall indie rock sound...

Alex Turner: Totally. Because if we set out to make a pop masterpiece with strings, which was totally our intention from the start, there's the risk of being corny.

R&F: Not corny, ever...

Miles Kane: There you go! Not corny or vulgar.

Alex Turner: Enter Owen Paley, formerly of Arcade Fire, who was fed up with concerts and came back to settle in Canada. This guy is our age, he hasn't done much before, so he wanted to express himself through us, but above all, he knows where not to go with the strings.

What pop music lacks

R&F: Another obvious question would be: Are you going to tour with this project?

Alex Turner: ...and the good answer would be: Why not, we hope...

R&F: There you go...

Alex Turner: There you go.

R&F: What this record says is: Apart from the brutal success of the Arctic Monkeys, we need pop, we need melodies to hold on to, right?

Alex Turner: Some fans will follow, that's clear...

Miles Kane: In pop, we have nothing! This stuff that's on TV is hot air.

R&F: Well, well, explain that to us. What is pop missing at the moment?

Miles Kane: It lacks class. The production is unreal, soulless.

Alex Turner: It lacks singable harmonies, it lacks melodies. It lacks everything, if you look at it closely.

Miles Kane: There's no sophistication anymore. At the same time, mind you, we didn't come to save the world either (laughs). We simply wanted to make a magnificent record, a pop record... And we didn't want to wait until we were fifty to buy violins.

Alex Turner: Nobody does that anymore. The rockers in English bands, if you talk to them about orchestration, it's immediately offensive.

R&F: What could you add?

Alex Turner: Nothing, just details. We can reveal that the first song on the record, the one that gives the album its title, was written last... Are you interested?

R&F: Are there any studio outtakes? Any unreleased tracks?

Alex Turner: Oh yeah, for the future box set in twenty years (laughs).

Miles Kane: Starting in January, we recorded some unreleased material for the B-sides. During the Christmas period, a new title stood out, "Separate And Ever Deadly." We added it to the album, keeping the number of tracks to twelve.

Alex Turner: We recorded in August, then we both went back on tour with our bands for two months. At Christmas, we listened back, recorded the B-sides, and Owen arrived in London for the strings. After three days, the mixing began, and that's it.

R&F: Were you surprised by the impact these strings had?

Alex Turner: Owen brought the record to life. It was amazing, suddenly our little demos, our sketches, were coming to life. We'd only been writing these songs since 2006, but we had no idea they would come out like this. The arrival of the strings boosted everything.

Clean, clean, clean

R&F: And the internet?

Alex Turner: What, the internet?

Miles Kane: I've never downloaded a single song in my life. Downloading is something I've never done. I collect my records, I'm a vinyl person without snobbery, CDs out of obligation, that's it...

R&F: The internet has certainly accelerated people's knowledge of music. On forums, everyone is always one click away from discovering loads of masterpieces. But what are your favorite Beatles albums?

Alex Turner: "Rubber Soul."

Miles Kane: "Revolver." The harmonies...

R&F: Serge Gainsbourg?

Alex Turner: That's James. He's a huge fan of "...Melody Nelson." I really like watching Gainsbourg's TV appearances. Every time he invents something, he does something amazing or hilarious. What a character!

R&F: How do you both compose? On guitar or piano?

Alex Turner: On guitar. Acoustic, eye to eye.

Miles Kane: We walk like caged lions, we twirl, we strum, we write, we throw the book of lyrics at each other. We start from nothing, we build these little songs and I write, I submit stuff to him, and he's like, "Yeah, that's it!" And if he rips his shirt off with joy at the end, it's good.

R&F: How do you divide up the vocals?

Alex Turner: Hell of a lot. Sometimes it's him, sometimes it's me, sometimes we harmonize.

Miles Kane: Alex loves to harmonize, and when we started singing together, it was a miracle. Our voices blended beautifully. As with songwriting, it's really a twin project.

R&F: Alex Turner, unlike your colleagues Amy Winehouse and Pete Doherty, you're never in the tabloids...

Alex Turner: That's just the way it is, I rarely go out. Most of the time, in fact, I stay at home composing. I'd describe myself as quite a boring guy, you know, I stay in my basement slaving away at my melodies. Not enough to stop the presses.

R&F: Explain your title, "The Age of Understatement"...

Alex Turner: Well, precisely because this album was created in a period when no one was trying anything anymore. Why not? That's a good reason.

R&F: How could we define good pop?

Alex Turner: If we knew, we'd make it. Pop can't be too subtle...

Miles Kane: That said, you shouldn't force anything either. It's somewhere in between.

R&F: Scott Walker is your absolute master, and yet he doesn't sell many records...

Alex Turner: That's the point. I know a lot of people won't like this record or understand it. Releasing this project on the market now is madness, almost utopian. I don't care about the result because we'll move on very quickly.

And the end

R&F: The rest?

Miles Kane: We're going to make videos, the first one is being filmed in Russia, the second for the upcoming single, and there will eventually be concerts...

Alex Turner: We might play the Olympia in Paris. This album calls for a beautiful venue like that. If people like the record, we'd like to play it in very beautiful venues. That would be fabulous. That's our dream at the moment.

R&F: You're not worried either...

Alex Turner: Very excited. That's what we wanted to achieve, and we did it. What could be better?

R&F: Do you recommend listening with headphones?

Miles Kane: ...And with dark glasses.

Not superstitious

An incredibly dynamic photo shoot follows, on the fly, in the hotel corridors, the meeting room, and then out in the street. Everything goes well, very quickly. The press officer rushes to phone this excellent news to her office. The photographer really directs the two rockers, who decide that "since she knows what she wants, we'll cooperate." Alex Turner barely refuses to pose in front of a green mural ("I'm not superstitious, but..."). Suddenly, the two boys look to the side, deaf to the photographer's calls, fascinated, hypnotized. A young Dutch woman, a top model, passes by in the street. An impromptu session ensues between the two pop stars and the Dutch beauty. We return to the hotel. Still under the spell of the divine and unexpected encounter, Alex Turner remains dreamy. Our hearts beat a little faster. What if this was pop, for real? ★

[sissylittlefeather]

Kinktober Day 18: Dirty Talk

Burnin' Love

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, dirty talk, mentions of sex

Word Count: ~1.2k

Kinktober Masterlist

You walk into the studio sound booth at exactly 12:26am. Elvis has been there working on this song since about 4 in the afternoon and he's still not pleased with it. You haven't been a producer for long, and they usually only call you in when they're desperate to go home. That's how you end up here, in the studio, with Elvis Presley at nearly 1am. His band is exhausted. Their parts are perfect. It's his vocals that he isn't happy with yet. The song is complicated and he won't rest until it's just right. 

“Alright, goddamnit, let's go again.” He says into the mic, ready to run it through again. His voice has an edge to it like he's irritated to still be working on the same song. You were nervous enough to be called in, much less to be called in to work with him, but you also know that his musicians are exhausted and you might be reaching a point of diminishing returns. You take a deep breath and try to ignore how good he looks, dark hair a little messy, lips shining with where he keeps running his tongue over them. Clearing your throat, you speak softly into the mic. 

“Uh, Mr. Presley, maybe we should let the musicians go and you just try your tracks a few more times.” He looks up at the booth suddenly. Who the hell was that?!

“Honey, who are you?”

“I'm the producer, sir. They called me in to cover the night-”

“My name is Elvis. You don't need to call me sir.” He smiles up at the booth with his eyes sparkling behind his sunglasses. Your voice catches his attention and then when he sees you in the booth with your headphones on, he's ready to keep recording all night long. His irritation disappears with the curvature of your lips and the way your skirt hugs your thighs. 

“Oh, okay, Elvis. Maybe we should let them go?” He smirks a little and then shrugs. 

“Fine with me, honey. Y'all heard her. Clear out.” The musicians sigh gratefully and begin to pack up. “What's your name, doll?”

“Y/n. I think we only need a couple more takes.” You try to ignore his burning gaze and fiddle with something in the booth. 

“Oh, I don't know, honey. These lyrics are really throwing me for a loop. Might need your help.” You lift your head quickly and meet his eyes. Even behind his glasses, they're piercing and you can see as he looks up and down your body. He breathes out a laugh as he notices a blush rising in your cheeks. 

“Of course, sir- I mean Elvis. Whatever you need.” You stumble over the consonants and try to keep it together, but you can already feel yourself getting wet. He knows the effect he's having and thoroughly enjoys watching you drop into a chair as your knees go weak. 

“Whatever I need?” He gives you a devilish smile, adjusting the headphones on his ears and you whimper, glad he can only hear you when you have the mic turned on in the recording booth. 

Once everyone has gone and it's just you and him, you get the track ready to play for him to sing with, actively ignoring your arousal as it dampens your panties. 

“Okay, Mr. Presley-”

“Elvis.” He smiles and you almost faint. 

“Elvis, I'm going to play the track and you just do your vocal part.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Your hand shakes, but you press play and let the track run. He starts to sing and then stops, his fingertips on the headphones and a slight frown on his face while you pause the track. 

“What's the next line, doll?”

“Girl, girl, girl, girl, you gonna set me on fire.” He smirks. 

“Set what on fire?” You blink a couple times before you can answer. He licks his lips again, imagining how warm your body would be against him. Finally, you get it out. 

“Set me on fire.” 

“Am I setting you on fire, honey?” 

“I-um-I-what?” You stutter and stammer into the mic and he chuckles. 

“Can you sing the line for me?” He gives you a cheeky little grin and you start to suspect he's being difficult on purpose. But you're not about to let on that you've figured this out, so you sing the line. 

“Girl, girl, girl, girl you gonna set me on fire.” He was right, your sweet little voice is almost as pretty as you are. 

“Mmm honey, I've half a mind to get you in here singing backup for me.” Your cheeks turn pink again. 

“Oh, um, thank you. Shall we continue?” He nods. 

“Of course.” You push play and he keeps singing until he gets a few more lines done. “What's the line?”

“Burning, burning, burning and nothing can cool me.” He wraps his hand around the mic and pulls it in close to him.  

“Oh, honey, I think you could cool me just right, what do you think?” His voice in the microphone is smooth and sexy in your headphones and you feel your center drip even more. 

“Huh?”

“Nothin' baby.” He goes back to singing and you make it through the next set of lyrics before he stops you again. 

“Next line?”

“It's coming closer, the flames are now licking my body.” He chuckles again. 

“Licking what?”

“Licking my body.” You answer, trying to stay as professional as possible. A lopsided grin spreads across his face and he decides to kick it up a notch. 

“You want me to lick your body, honey?” You sit in stunned silence and stare at him. You're so turned on you can barely breathe. “I can think of a few places on your body I'd like to lick.” 

“Like where?” It comes tumbling out of you breathlessly before you can stop it. He wets his lips with his tongue. 

“I bet you've got a pretty little spot between your thighs that I'd love to get my tongue into.” You moan softly into the microphone and he adjusts himself to make his erection less uncomfortable. 

“Mr. Presley…” You whisper airily. 

“Elvis. I'd love to get these sideburns on your thighs, baby.” You whimper again and he doubles down. “Put my tongue in that pretty pussy.” 

You're so hot and bothered at this point that you can't even remember what you're supposed to be doing. He pulls the mic to his lips and keeps going. 

“You wanna cum in my mouth, baby?”

“Yes…” You hear yourself whisper as you grind against the chair for friction. 

“Let me put this big cock inside you? You want that, honey?” He starts to stroke himself over his pants and you bite your lip and whine. 

“Yeah…” You rub your thighs together and watch as he grins and continues to palm his dick over his pants. 

“Well, are you comin’ to me or am I comin’ in there?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @deltafalax @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @jhoneybees @polksaladava @searchingforgravity @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @your-nanas-house @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69

[jhoneybees]

1970 - chapter 1

Wellllllllllcomeee to chapter 1 of 1970!!! Hope you like it, everyone!

Characters: Early70s!Elvis X innocent!reader

Warnings/triggers: Fear of going out of comfort zone.

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a @theelvisprincess @thelonelyheart @hooked-on-elvis @polksaladava

_____________________________________________

The start of summer, the summer of 1970.

A record playing softly in the peaceful silence. You sit on the couch looking out the living room window to the familiar scenery of the next door neighbour's house across the road. A slow breath falls from your lips feeling the warmth of a cup of coffee nestled in your hands.

This is the life that you're comfortable with.

Living alone at 19 in a simple one bedroom home in a small southern town called Anaville in the middle of Mississippi, working three days a week at the local coffee shop on the main street, you have plenty of time to do what you love during your days off.

You’re happy like this.

Having the choice of deciding to go to the library one day or the arts and crafts shop one the next or staying home to knit and crochet. You're content in this little bubble, this little life you’ve created for yourself and…you wouldn’t ask for anything else.

Except for this one…something.

Something that has been brewing in your mind for a long time. You’ve never wanted to think about or admit it but it always floats back into your mind at night. It’s been like this ever since the end of senior year and now… it’s been a year, you can’t hold it in anymore.

An adventure.

You want an adventure.

But you're scared shitless.

Ever since graduating highschool last year, finding yourself a job and a home to rent, you’ve been so happy and blinded by this little bubble you’ve created for yourself that now, craving for something new out of this perfect little life makes you feel nauseous.

You want to go out there, out of this town but you just don’t know how to take that step out of your comfort zone.

You don’t want to do it alone.

Knock. Knock.

Turning your head towards the direction of the front door, you carefully put your cup of coffee down on the coffee table. Cautiously, walking over into the hallway. Knowing you’re not expecting anyone because you don’t really have any friends.

Who could it be?

As you hesitantly reach for the doorknob, opening the door your heart skips a beat seeing before you, a mysterious, handsome man on your doorstep.

Tall with black fluffy hair and sideburns, wearing a white high collar dress shirt, black pants, black shoes, holding a bouquet of flowers with the most beautiful smile you have ever seen.

“H-Hi! Uh, hello, ma’am! I just wanted ta come over and introduce myself.”

You just stand there, a little stunned. Lips parting slightly as he holds out his hand, noticing a gold bracelet around his wrist “I’m Elvis Presley...your new neighbour.” You look up at his face. Your whole body feeling the tiniest shiver go down your spine being met with piercing but soft blue eyes.

The thought of giving the man a handshake, never once crossing your mind.

“Neighbour?” You ask in the quietest voice.

He nods, grinning as his hand retracts back to his side. “Yes ma’am, I moved in right next door.” Pointing towards the house to your right.

You crane your head out of the doorway seeing the roof of a cream-coloured car just over the top of your peeling white picket fence and turn back nodding silently, still stunned by how handsome he is.

“...Uh huh”

The man awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, breathing out a shy laugh. “Uh…I came here from Las Vegas and uh…I originally came from Tupelo, North of here? I-I was workin’ in the big city but thought I would come back for somethin’ different.” The man lifts his eyes up to yours again, smiling a little not really knowing why he’s explaining himself but those eyes are making your heart skip another beat.

“So uh…w-what’s your name, ma’am?”

You take a small step back, lowering your head the slightest bit as you begin to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. Feeling your cheeks start to warm. “Y/n…”

“Y/n…nice to meet you.”

You just give him a small smile as he shows his grin, a crooked grin, and quickly you avert your eyes from him, soon hesitantly moving back when he lifts his arm showing you the bouquet of flowers he’s holding. Small white, yellow flowers and little green leaves wrapped delicately with a piece of white lace.

“I uh…Here’s some flowers. Thought it would be a nice neighbourly thing to give.” He explains, shoving a hand into his pocket as you carefully take the bouquet.

Then your heart thumps loudly, not loud enough for you to notice. It is a nice thing to give, you think to yourself. It’s not big and fancy like the ones you see in the magazines but the combination of simple flowers makes you smile a little wider. No one has given you flowers before.

“Welp, I better…go back home.” He sighs, his words snapping you out of your thoughts. “I uh…have a few more things to unpack.” Smiling sheepishly as you glance back down at the colours in your arms.

“Hope ya like the flowers.”

You reluctantly nod and as he quietly says goodbye and walks back down your footpath and down the side path to his house. You take a moment before closing the front door and making your way into the kitchen.

Smiling down at the pretty little things.

Opening a cabinet, you find a vase for the flowers and after a while of finishing the arrangement, you set them in the middle of your small dining table, and just stand there quietly. Admiring the colours, making that smile you had before appear on your face again but then it falters when you suddenly realise your heart is pounding in your chest.

Your mind drifting to that man with the crooked grin. What was his name again?

Elvis Presley?

…

Turning on your heel, you move over to the kitchen counter looking through the small window above the sink, peeking just over your fence. Through the other house’s window, seeing your neighbour standing in what you presume is his living room, running his hand through his hair and taking a small sip from a green cup.

Is he…the adventure? You think, out of nowhere.

Heart jumping loudly in your ears as his eyes lock onto yours.

Is he going to be the one helping you take that step out of your perfect little life?

[heart-of-ep]

• Elvis: A Stranger in His Own Hometown •

I recently ordered the Memphis boxset that came out this past summer and had a minute to look through the booklet inside, and wow, I was not expecting to find myself tearing up over a passage at the end of it. So, of course, I had a moment where I spiraled over the cultural impact of Elvis, as I often do after reading stuff like this. I'm very curious to hear yall's thoughts cause I've never really thought too much about this topic, and I find it super interesting. ♡

Elvis on February 3rd, 1976, getting his photo taken for his Memphis Police Reserve Captain ID.

To begin this discussion, here is the passage in question that tugged at my heart:

"At Graceland, the upstairs was Elvis's private domain. The curtains were kept closed, foil covered the windows and blocked out the sun. Access was limited, and as the coterie of friends, girlfriends, and hangers-on slowly diminished, fewer sought entry. There was no thrum of the streets, no Shake Rag or Beale, no winds of change. His bedroom door was kept closed, the air conditioning was always very cool, and he read oversized spiritual tomes, looking for a way out, looking for a way in.

His bedroom was isolated, less a room in a house and more a chamber in space. Tupelo was a million miles away, Vegas and Hollywood were further, and though Memphis was just outside the door, its inspiration available and attainable, no new air could seep in. He was an expatriate in his own hometown.

Memphis giveth, and Memphis taketh away, and the city had given Elvis more than he could ever have imagined asking for, more than he ever wanted, and then like the ocean before a tsunami wave, it had withdrawn. Or he'd withdrawn from it. The fullness was bare, the loud laughter now spare, the warmth artificial from electric blankets. Words turned to sounds but not the joyful scatting of childhood, more a mumble, a murmur, a confusion that he could neither understand nor express.

When asked what he missed about Memphis, a 25-year-old Elvis on his way home from the army said, "Everything. I mean that everything." Late in life, and too fully ensconced there to be comfortable, he might have replied with words the same.

Elvis died at Graceland, upstairs, a man alone, less than a year after the last wail from the jungle room."

Robert Gordon, Memphis, 2024

The Memphis boxset focuses on all of Elvis's recordings that took place in Memphis, TN from his start in Sun Studios back in 1954, all the way up to his final recording session that took place in the den (now famously the Jungle Room) of Graceland. The set features 111 tracks and offers up a beautiful selection of songs that showcase the progression of Elvis' artistic style over the years.

This particular passage by Robert Gordon sits at the very end of the booklet included in the boxset, endcapping the famous Junge Room sessions with an introspective look at Elvis' relationship with Memphis and how that influenced his music. But why did this passage stand out to me so much? Why did it tug so hard at my heart?

"Memphis giveth, and Memphis taketh away."

Such a simple sentence, and yet it speaks volumes for the landscape of how Elvis and Memphis are intrinsically tied together, both then and now.

While Memphis had famous musicians before and after Elvis' rise to fame, none quite reached the level of stardom that Elvis achieved, and unlike many stars of then and now, Elvis was proud of his hometown, holding a natural love and affection for the city that served as an escape from the Presley's poverty in Tupelo. Memphis wasn't just any city for the Presley family, it was a second chance. It was an opportunity for them to create something better for themselves. And for a young Elvis of thirteen years old, it offered hope. Elvis was constantly striving for something bigger, something better, for both him and his family, and Memphis offered that in spades.

Elvis was immediately enamored with Memphis, and soon after their arrival, the music of Memphis would take hold of Elvis. While in Tupelo, Elvis was already familiar with a variety of music styles, such as country and gospel, but in Memphis, there was a music for every sort of flavor, and no doubt Elvis listened avidly. Whether it be by turning on Daddy-O-Dewey, Dewey Phillips at WHBQ, or turning the dial to WDIA, an all black programming station that played many local artists such as B.B. King and Rufus Thomas. Even on Sunday nights, Elvis would be able to listen to a sermon from Reverend W. Herbet Brewster, appealing to the inherently spiritual side of Elvis' nature.

Elvis listened to it all, and in time, it helped to mold him into the artist he would become in just a few short years. Elvis was constantly inspired by everything around him, and it all came together, allowing him to develop a level of self-confidence that hadn't previously existed in the young boy. As his love for music continued to expand, his image evolved with it.

"It seemed as if he was determined to make a statement, he was intent upon setting himself apart, without ever raising his voice or changing from the polite, well-mannered boy that he knew he would always be. By his dress, his hair, his demeanor, though, he was making a ringing declaration of independence. More and more to his fellow schoolmates he was a “squirrel,” a misfit, a freak, as he would later describe himself, but not a freak to himself. Photographs show an increasing self-confidence, an increasingly studied self-image, even as he was being increasingly rejected by others."

The Rise of Elvis Presley: Last Train to Memphis (by Peter Guralnick)

There's no denying the influence that Memphis played on Elvis' life, but what did Elvis do for Memphis?

While Elvis had homes in other places, such as Beverly Hills and Palm Springs out in California, he always returned to Memphis. His home was always there. When asked in 1960 if Elvis had plans to sell Graceland, he said no. Graceland was his home, Memphis was his home. He always came back.

Not only that, but throughout the years, Elvis constantly found ways to give back to Memphis through his charitable donations. Beginning in 1961, Elvis made it a yearly tradition during the holidays to donate to 50 different local charities throughout Memphis, donating around $100,000 every year. One of his favorite charities to support was St Jude's Hospital for children, where in 1964, he gifted them a boat, which he purchased for $55,000. The boat would be auctioned off and sold soon after, raising the charity an impressive $75,000. On February 25th, 1961, Elvis Presley Day would be declared by both the Mayor of Memphis and the Govener of Tennessee and on that day, Elvis would perform two shows at the Ellis Auditorium for a Memphis Charity Show where $51,612 would be raised and distributed among twenty-six charities. On December 1st, 1967, he would donate $10,500 to the Memphis Jewish Community Center Building Fund and paid a $2,500 installment on that day.

These are just a handful of instances in which Elvis strived to give back to the community, and many of his charitable donations went unpublished. Elvis gave from the heart, and he truly only wanted what was best for Memphis, the city he called home.

Charitable donations aside, Elvis always returned to Memphis, not just to his home Graceland, but to record and make music. Elvis' music journey began the minute he walked through the doors of Sun Studios on 706 Union Ave, Memphis, TN during the summer of 1953 when Elvis was only eighteen years old. He would return one year later to record with the studio yet again, this time shocking the world with the debut of his first single: 'That's All Right Mama'. Elvis would stay with Sun Studios until November 20th, 1955, when he would officially sign with RCA Records.

Elvis wouldn't return to Memphis to record until January 13th, 1969 after hearing about American Sound Studios from his friend Marty Lacker. Elvis would take a trip down to the funky studio located on 2272 Deadrick Avenue to record several hit singles at American Sound, including 'Suspicious Minds' and 'In the Ghetto' alongside two full length albums which would proudly be titled: 'From Elvis in Memphis' and 'Back in Memphis'. These recording sessions were a much needed return to form for Elvis after several years of monotony while being stuck making picture after picture out in Hollywood. Life and soul seemed to be injected back into Elvis' music, and once again, he seemed to be inspired by the city he knew and loved.

A few more years would pass before Elvis came back to Memphis again to record, this time in an effort to give Elvis a closer to home option as he was disinterested in returning to Nashville or Los Angeles. This would come in the form of STAX Records, located on 926 E McLemore Ave, Memphis, TN. STAX was home to many famous recording artists, including Otis Redding, Isaac Hayes, Carla Thomas, and the electric duo of Sam and Dave. Elvis would first visit the studio July 20th, 1973 for his first recording session there. He would then return a few months later to cut another selection of songs beginning on December 10th, 1973. Three albums would be produced from these sessions: 'Raised on Rock', 'Good Times', and 'Promised Land'.

Fast forward two years, and Elvis' last recording session ever would take place right in the comfort of his own home at Graceland. RCA was struggling to get Elvis back into the studio, so in turn, they brought the studio to Elvis. These sessions would begin on February 2nd, 1976 in the den of Graceland with an RCA recording van parked out back. The songs recorded during this time were an obvious reflection of Elvis' emotional state at the time, his selection focusing on slower, almost bitter sweet style ballads that compliment the deep tombra of his voice. He would cut several hit singles, including 'Hurt' and 'For the Heart', and would produce two albums to be released over the next year: 'From Elvis Presley Boulevard Memphis TN' and 'Moody Blue' respectively.

Despite Elvis' label RCA Records not having a studio in Memphis, Elvis always found himself returning to his hometown to record. Something about Memphis drew him back while places like Nashville and Los Angeles failed to strike that same creative cord. It's almost poetic in a way. The first place Elvis ever recorded was in Memphis, and the last place he would ever record would also be in Memphis. His career would begin and end in the city he called home.

With Elvis and Memphis so closely tied together, one might expect the city to love and cherish the Presley name in a similar way to Elvis' birthplace of Tupelo, MS. But unfortunately, that's not the case. In Memphis, Elvis is nothing more than merchandise. A commodity, a tourist attraction, and in some cases nothing more than a joke. But why? Why has Elvis become a stranger in his own hometown? Why is it that the man who gave his all to the city he loved while he was alive, and a man who continues to give through the charities founded in his memory, so often overlooked and underappreciated by the city he adored?

Simply put, the majority of people visit Memphis because of Elvis. While Memphis has so much important history and cultural influence, many never discover that until entering the Elvis world. This was my personal experience and the experience of many other friends of mine.

To put it into perspective, over 600,000 people visit Graceland annually, generating an estimated $150 million dollars in revenue for the city of Memphis. Not only does Graceland as an enterprise profit, but small businesses, hotels, and larger chain establishments all profit from the visitors brought in because of Graceland. The Elvis Presley estate is also the most visited home in America (not counting the White House) and serves as a museum and the final resting place of Elvis and his family. In 2023, the Memphis economy increased by 6% from the previous year, growing by $6 billion dollars. It can be assumed that the release and popularity of Elvis (2022) being released played a part in that increase, bringing in even more tourists now that younger fans have become interested in the King of Rock 'n' Roll.

So, what's the point? For many, especially local Memphians, the image of Elvis Presley has usurped the man who lived and breathed the same air as them years prior. Graceland was no longer just a home, it was now an attraction. And while Graceland supports the community through the Elvis Presley Charitable Foundation (EPCF) in various different ways, there is a large cavern that sits between Elvis and the people of Memphis.

It's easy to speculate that this could also be influenced by the years of constant misinformation in regard to the influence that black music played on Elvis' style, and how despite there being more than enough evidence to prove otherwise, many still believe Elvis to be appropriating black culture and label him as racist. Misinformation can damage a reputation, and there's no doubt that this rampant spread of misinformation had an effect on Elvis' legacy in Memphis.

So, what's the conclusion?

"Memphis giveth, and Memphis taketh away."

Memphis gave Elvis more than he ever could have asked for, more than he ever could have possibly dreamed of. It gave him hope, it gave him inspiration, and it gave him a home. In turn, Elvis gave back to Memphis throughout his entire life and continues to do so today through his name and legacy that were left behind.

Elvis is a part of Memphis, just as Memphis is a part of him. The two are forever intertwined, but despite the two being so closely related, Elvis forever remains a stranger in his hometown. They drive down Elvis Presley Blvd, they pass that mansion on the hilltop where the light is always on, but they don't see a man who gave his all to the city he loved, they see tour buses and merchandise, a business now and a home no more.

The image remains, the man gone from the public eye, trapped in the upstairs room of Graceland, watching quietly as the cars pass by.

"I took a ride with my baby by my side

And the Elvis Presley Blvd. where all the faithful cried

And I saw that silent mansion and I knew that I was lost

They were selling plastic souvenirs of Elvis on the cross"

- Elvis Presley Blvd. (by Billy Joel)

I definitely let myself get carried away with this topic, but I find it extremely fascinating, and I think it's super important to understanding the cultural impact and the modern view of Elvis, not just as a whole throughout the world, but more so from his hometown where Elvis is expected to be loved and cherished.

Elvis is more than just a product to be sold, he's a man with a legacy that worth the recognition, and a life and heart worth remembering. ♡

Disclaimer: I could say a LOT more about EPE as a whole and their impact on Memphis and how they fail, in many ways, to show any real support to the community considering the sheer amount of money they make annually as a business. Unfortunately, I didn't want to make this post about EPE, cause honestly that's a whole subject of it's own, but I'd love to make a seperate post about that sometime as I do think it plays a major role in how Memphians view Elvis and how ultimately Elvis has been turned into nothing more than a piece of merchandise to be sold, rather than a human being that played a large role in American history and the culture of the 20th century.

I love Graceland and I love Elvis, but I do not love EPE as a business and have many, MANY issues with how they decide to run things. But that my friends, is a topic for another day. ⚡️

[elvisbdoll]

—“Tea party”—

Summery: It was a quiet afternoon in 1969, the kind of day where the world seemed to slow down just enough to breathe. Elvis, fresh off his comeback and riding high on success, found himself at home in Graceland, far from the flashing lights and roaring crowds. But today wasn’t about music or fame—it was about her. She’d been in her little space all morning, her soft voice and shy smiles tugging at his heart. When she asked him to join her for a tea party, complete with plushies and a handmade crown, Elvis couldn’t say no. After all, even a king deserves a day off to play.

Tw: age regression, nothing more really, FLUFF PURE FLUFF.

Words: 800

Ship: Elvis x black!oc, caregiver!elvis x little!reader

A/N: had been thinking about this a while now, please make sure to comment and tell me if you see any mistake or any warning that should be added. Thank you and enjoy your lecture!

The sun poured in golden through the windows of Graceland, casting a warm glow over the den where Elvis Presley lounged. It was 1969, and he was finally back in the spotlight, rejuvenated by his comeback special and the thrill of recording in Memphis. But today? Today wasn’t about the stage. It was about her.

“E-Elvis?” Your soft voice carried from the other room, tentative but hopeful.

He turned, his blue eyes lighting up at the sound of you. “What’s on your mind, darlin’?”

You peeked around the doorway, clutching your favorite stuffed bunny. The sight of you made his heart melt. You’d been in your little space all day, and he could see it in the way you shuffled, one sock falling down, hair slightly tousled. It was one of those moments where the world was too big, and you needed to retreat to a place that felt safe. With him, you always could.

“I wanna have a tea party,” you murmured, eyes darting away shyly.

Elvis grinned, setting aside the newspaper he’d been half-reading. “A tea party, huh? Well, I reckon I’ve got time for somethin’ like that. Where we settin’ up?”

Your face brightened instantly, and you grabbed his hand, leading him to the living room where a little blanket had been spread out. A collection of plushies—bears, bunnies, and even a lion—were carefully arranged in a semi-circle. At the center sat a tiny tea set, the kind with painted flowers that always made you smile.

“You’re the king,” you announced with a serious expression, handing him a paper crown you’d made earlier.

He chuckled, kneeling down on the blanket despite his usual sharp suit. “Well, darlin’, I’ve been called the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll, but this here’s a new kinda royal honor.” He placed the crown on his head, tilting it slightly. “How do I look?”

“Perfect,” you giggled, sitting down beside him and picking up your stuffed bunny. “And I’m the princess. This is Bunny, and that’s Sir Teddy.” You pointed at the bear, then the lion. “Oh, and that’s Sir Roar-a-Lot.”

Elvis nodded solemnly, playing along. “Pleasure to meet y’all. Now, what’s a king gotta do to get a cup of tea ‘round here?”

You giggled again, carefully pouring pretend tea into a tiny cup and handing it to him. He took it with all the seriousness in the world, pinky finger out, and made an exaggerated slurping sound.

“Mm, now that’s the finest tea I’ve ever had,” he said, his Southern drawl making the words even sweeter. “You make this yourself, Princess?.

You nodded proudly. “With Bunny’s help.”

“Well, Bunny’s got a talent for tea, I’ll tell ya that.” He leaned forward, gently booping the bunny’s nose, which made you laugh so hard you almost spilled your next pour.

The two of you played for what felt like hours. Elvis complimented Sir Teddy’s bravery and asked Sir Roar-a-Lot about his adventures in the jungle. You pretended to bake cookies, offering one to Elvis, who mimed taking a bite and declared it “better than Mama’s cookin’,” which earned him a mock glare.

Finally, you stood up, hands on your hips. “Now, we have to dance!”

“Dance?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Well, now you’re speakin’ my language.”

You reached out your hands, and he took them, pulling you close. He twirled you gently around the blanket, humming a soft tune under his breath—something sweet and slow, like Can’t Help Falling in Love. You giggled as he spun you dramatically, your plushies cheering you on from their spots.

When the song ended, you both collapsed onto the blanket, laughing and out of breath. Elvis leaned on one elbow, looking down at you with the kind of affection that made you feel like the most important person in the world.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling. “You’re the best king ever.”

“And you’re the sweetest princess I ever met,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting the room in shades of pink and orange, you rested your head on his shoulder, clutching Bunny tightly. Elvis wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.

In that little space, surrounded by plushies and the remnants of a tea party, the world felt small and safe. And with Elvis by your side, you knew you’d always have a home in his heart.

[prsleysbabe]

Summary: When Elvis comes home, he finds you dancing and singing around his room and he can't help but admire you.

Warnings: Bad writing from me, fluff, no smut

Elvis has been away all day due to rehearsals for his first show in vegas, plus, a production company is making a movie showing how Elvis rehearses, how much time he spends getting ready for a show and showing how Elvis performs.

From this you have been feeling quite lonesome being in his place all alone all day. To try and lift your spirits you take a nice bath, put on your favourite blue babydoll dress, do your hair all nice and put on some makeup and make your way over to Elvis' record player. You sit on the floor looking through all his records and some of your own before you find one of your favourite. A vinyl of 'The Ronettes' and it has one of your all time favourite songs on it.

You get all excited and start taking the vinyl out of its packaging. Once you have it out, you delicately place it in the record player and place the needle on top of the vinyl.

As the music starts playing, you turn the knob round that controls the volume and have it all the way around.

You begin to feel the serotonin starting to seep into brain and instantly you feel so much better as you start dancing and singing. You grab your hairbrush and start singing into it and start standing on the furniture, pretending that you are doing a little performance.

While you are so occupied with the music, Elvis stops behind the door before opening it because he suddenly hears your voice and the music, he can hear you singing your pretty little heart out and he can't help but chuckle to himself.

Elvis slowly opens the door and closes it behind him, attempting not to make a single noise so that he doesn't alert you.

You and Elvis have only been dating for a few months and he knows that it takes you a bit of time to get fully comfortable with someone and this is the first time he has seen this side to you. Elvis leans against the doorway and looks right at you as you continue dancing and singing.

"So won't you, please, be my, be my baby, be my little baby, my one and only, say you'll be my darlin', be my, be my baby. Be my baby now, my one and only, woah-oh-oh-oh". As you finish singing this part of the song, you turn around and see Elvis standing there, watching you and smiling. You stop dancing instantly and go dead silent.

"Don't stop on my account, honey. I was quite enjoying it" Elvis teases as he pushes himself off the wall and starts walking over to you.

"I uh.. I didn't hear you come in". You say while all embarrassed. You swear you can feel your cheeks go scolding hot and you know that Elvis is probably looking at a very red face now.

"Awe don't be embarrassed, honey. Hell after a performance like that I should make you one of my little dancers and maybe you can be my backing vocals on stage". Elvis continues to tease and he lets out a little chuckle.

"Elvis stop. Can we just forget about this please". You exclaim, starting to get a little agitated as you start walking away from him into the lounge area.

Elvis watches as you walk away from him and starts feeling a little guilty for teasing you. He follows you and catches your arm in his wrist and pulls you toward him.

"Honey, I didn't mean to upset ya. I just never seen you act like that and be so comfortable. I liked seeing my girl like that, don't be upset me" Elvis says to you as he reaches up and strokes your cheek with his thumb. "You don't gotta be embarrassed none, not round me, okay honey?". He asks you with reassurance in his eyes.

You give him a little nod

"Good". He smiles, "Now give me a hug, Darlin". He says to you.

You smile lightly and reach up to wrap your hands around his neck as he wraps his arms around your figure and places a small kiss on your head.

[gardenwalrus]

Norman Jopling interview with Paul McCartney, 'How The Beatles spend an evening', Record Mirror (week ending 15 May 1965) [The Beatles saw Bob Dylan perform on 9 May]

It was a typical quiet evening at London's Savoy Hotel. Quiet that is until the Beatles turned up to see Bob Dylan. They all trouped down to the restaurant and ordered Porridge and Pea Sandwiches.

They got them. Then one of the boys spotted Owls Legs on the menu. They ordered them as a joke. It didn't take too long before the Owls Legs were actually served, piping hot, to the group.

"But we wouldn't have known if they hadn't been Owls Legs" said Paul.

An evening out for the Beatles is something of a rarity nowadays. The boys are leading almost entirely self-contained lives and the latest development of theirs to entertain themselves are film projectors.

"We've all bought 16mm film projectors with sound and everything," explained Paul. "And we hire loads of films - it's surprising but you can get some of the really latest top films. For instance I've got "Topkapi" and "Tom Jones". And we hire some of Elvis's films too … I like them in the same way that I like "Double Your Money."

JOHN'S HOUSE - LIKE A CINEMA

"The projectors cost a lot of money, about two hundred quid I think. But they're worthwhile to us at least, because we don't get a chance to get out and see these films. John is the really keen one. He has it all organised, showing two films a night now. It's just like a cinema round his place. We all sit there eyes glued to the screen. And he doesn't start showing them until late, well, after television has finished and none of us get to bed until fantastically late hours.

"We all sit bleary-eyed in front of the screen making signs with our hands on the screen - little animals and all that ...

"So far we haven't got a copy of "Hard Day's Night". Not that it bothers me. I didn't like the film anyway. Seriously, I mean that. The original novelty or seeing yourself on screen wears off. You know, like home movies of yourself at the seaside. The good thing is that at least you can come out with anecdotes every ten seconds about what happened behind the scenes."

Paul talked about the Beatles next film, "Help".

"l like this one better. It has been great filming it. But all the residents of the Bahamas hated us. Really. They're so rich there and they were so rude to us that we just didn't care. We all rented Triumph Spitfires and drove them around the island. They didn't like that either.

"But there are some good scenes from the film. There are shots of us in a disused quarry, using it as a race track. We found it when we were waiting for the technicians. We were screeching around it like mad. Well, they filmed it slyly and put it in the film. Just like that.

"There are no speeded up shots, like in "A Hard Day's Night", but there arc some other visual gimmicks. Like standing on a rock In the middle or the ocean playing our instruments. And the next shot with us up to our necks in water, still playing. And one of Ringo, lying on his stomach on the beach swimming in the sand.'"

PAUL DIDN'T LIKE "TICKET"

Then Paul started to sing the Beatles next disc "Help" to us, taking the part of all the voices, and even the backing. He maintains it's much better than "Ticket To Ride".

"Can't say I liked 'Ticket' much," he stated. "But this new one is - in my opinion - good. I hope I don't sound big-headed. But I like it - it's certainly the fastest record we've made and it's very different. It's a bit like the middle eight in "It Won't Be Long" …

"I think that John and I are writing different sort of songs to what we were a couple of years back. I can't say whether they're better or worse but they're certainly different. And that is O.K. by us because we wouldn't want to stand still, to stagnate musically."

Somehow I can't imagine the Beatles ever doing that...