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By: Johnny Cash - Sep
25th, 2006
Source: Cash - The
Autobiography
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Johnny Cash & Elvis
Presley |
There were a lot of white people
listening to 'race music' behind
closed doors. Of course, some of
them (some of us) were quite
open about it, most famously
Elvis.
Elvis was already making noise
in Memphis when I got there in
'54.
Sam Phillips
had released his first single,
That�s All Right, Mama,
with Blue Moon of Kentucky
on the 'B' side, and it was
tearing up the airwaves.
The first time I saw Elvis,
singing from a flatbed truck at
a Katz drugstore opening on
Lamar Avenue, two or three
hundred people, mostly teenage
girls, had come out to see him.
With just one single to his
credit, he sang those two songs
over and over. That's the first
time I met him. Vivian and I
went up to him after the show,
and he invited us to his next
date at the Eagle's Nest, a club
promoted by Sleepy-Eyed John,
the disc jockey who'd taken his
name from the Merle Travis song
and was just as important as
Dewey
Phillips
in getting Sun music out to the
world.
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Johnny Cash & Elvis
Presley |
I
remember Elvis' show at the
Eagle's Nest as if were
yesterday. The date was a
blunder, because the place was
an adult club where teenagers
weren't welcome, and so Vivian
and I were two of only a dozen
or so patrons, fifteen at the
most. All the same, I thought
Elvis was great. He sang
That�s All Right, Mama and
Blue Moon of Kentucky
once again (and again) plus some
black blues songs and a few
numbers like Long Tall Sally,
and he didn't say much. He
didn't have to, of course; his
charisma alone kept everyone's
attention. The thing I really
noticed that night, though, was
his guitar playing. Elvis was a
fabulous rhythm player. He'd
start into That�s All Right,
Mama with his own guitar
alone, and you didn't want to
hear anything else. I didn't
anyway. I was disappointed when
Scotty
Moore
and
Bill Black
jumped in and covered him up.
Not that Scotty and Bill weren't
perfect for him - the way he
sounded with them that night was
what I think of as seminal
Presley, the sound I missed
through all the years after he
became so popular and made
records full of orchestration
and overproduction. I loved that
clean, simple combination of
Scotty, Bill, and Elvis with his
acoustic guitar. You know, I've
never heard or read anyone else
praising Elvis as a rhythm
guitar player, and after the Sun
days I never heard his own
guitar on his records.
That night at the Eagle's Nest,
I remember, he was playing a
Martin and he was dressed in the
latest teen fashion. I think his
shirt came from the National
Shirt Shop, where you could get
something loud and flashy or
something in a good rich black
for $3.98 (I did), but perhaps
by then he'd started shopping at
Lansky
Brothers
on Beale Street. If he hadn't,
it wasn't long before he did. I
was in there myself two or three
times in '55 and '56.
Elvis and I talked about music,
but I never spoke to him about
Sun
Records
or any other connection into the
music business. I wanted to make
it on my own devices, and that's
how I set about doing it.
Elvis certainly took a lot of
abuse from that crowd. He had
his problems with gossip, too,
and rumor and lies. He was very
sensitive, easily hurt by the
stories people told about him
being on dope and so on. I
myself couldn't understand why
people wanted to say that back
in the '50s, because in those
days he was the last person on
earth who needed dope. He had
such a high energy level that it
seemed he never stopped - though
maybe that's why they said he
was on dope.
Either way, he wasn't, or at
least I never saw any evidence
of it. I never saw him use any
kind of drug, or even alcohol;
he was always clear-headed
around me, and very pleasant.
Elvis was such a nice guy, and
so talented and charismatic - he
had it all - that some people
just couldn't handle it and
reacted with jealousy. It's only
human, I suppose, but it's sad.
He and I liked each other, but
we weren't that tight - I was
older than he was, for one
thing, and married, for another
- and we weren't close at all in
his later years. I took the hint
when he closed his world around
him; I didn't try to invade his
privacy. I'm so glad I didn't,
either, because so many of his
old friends were embarrassed so
badly when they were turned away
at
Graceland.
In the '60s and '70s he and I
chatted on the phone a couple of
times and swapped notes now and
again. If he were closing at the
Las Vegas Hilton as I was
getting ready to open, he'd wish
me luck, that kind of thing -
but that was about the extent of
it.
I've heard it said that here at
the end of the century, we all
have our own Elvis, and I can
appreciate that idea, even
though my Elvis was my friend,
flesh and blood in real life.
Certainly, though, my Elvis was
the Elvis of the '50s. He was a
kid when I worked with him. He
was nineteen years old, and he
loved cheeseburgers, girls, and
his mother, not necessarily in
that order (it was more like his
mother, then girls, then
cheeseburgers).
Personally, I liked
cheeseburgers and I had nothing
against his mother, but the
girls were the thing. He had so
many girls after him that
whenever he was working with us,
there were always plenty left
over. We had a lot of fun. We
had a lot of fun in general, not
just with the girls. It was nice
that we could make a living at
it, but every one of us would
have done it for free. And you
know, Elvis was so good. Every
show I did with him, I never
missed the chance to stand in
the wings and watch. We all did.
He was that charismatic.
Carl Perkins
Which is not to say that he
always blew everyone else away.
I distinctly remember, for
instance, one night in Amory,
Mississippi, when he had to take
a backseat to Carl Perkins, even
though he was the headliner.
At the time Carl hadn't yet had
his big hit, but he'd had
Movie Mag, he'd played the
venue several times before on
his own, and they loved him. He
went on first and tore the place
up; the fans went absolutely
nuts.
When Elvis went on, he got a
fabulous reception too, but he
wasn't all the way through his
song when half the audience
started shouting for Carl. It
was so bad that he only did one
more song before giving up. He
left the stage and Carl came
back on to thunderous applause.
I heard later that after that
night in Amory, Elvis said he'd
never work with Carl again. I
didn't hear him say it myself,
and to me it doesn't sound like
Elvis - he wasn't that
small-minded but that's what
some people passed along, and
it's certainly true that Carl
stole his show.
I went up to Carl after the
show. "You did really good
tonight, Carl," I said. "I've
been to Elvis' shows and I've
done a couple of them with him
myself, and I'll tell you, I
never thought I'd see anyone
outshine him."
"Yeah," he replied, "but there�s
one thing missing."
"What's that?"
"He's got a hit record, and I
don't."
Blue Suede Shoes
There was no arguing with that,
and it got me thinking. A little
while later that night, I told
Carl about C.V. White and the
blue suede shoes. C.V. White was
a black airman from Virginia I'd
known in Landsberg - he told us
the initials stood for
'Champagne Velvet', but none of
us ever knew the truth - and one
night he said this one thing
that really struck me. When we
got a three day pass we'd get
out our best uniforms, polish
our brass, and spit-shine our
shoes.
C.V. would come by and say, "How
do I look, man?" "Like a million
dollars," I'd tell him, and it
was true. "You look great, C.V.
You look really striking."
One night he laid the line on me
at that point. "Well" he said,
"just don't step on my blue
suede shoes!" "They�re not blue
suede, C.V. They're air force
black, like everyone else's."
"No , man. Tonight they're blue
suede. Don't step on 'em!"
I told Carl that story and how
I'd thought it had a song in it,
and he took it and ran with it.
He didn't record it the way I'd
been thinking. My idea had been
to adapt a melody from a nursery
rhyme (taking a leaf out of Jack
Clement's book), but I'd say
Carl's version worked out pretty
well.
Elvis And Carl Perkins
A lot has been made over the
years of a rivalry between Carl
and Elvis, and of course the
story of Blue Suede Shoes
does lend itself to that
interpretation. According to the
story, after Carl was put out of
action by a terrible car crash
while his hit was riding up the
charts, Elvis recorded it
himself and capitalized on
Carl's success. It's one of
those 'What If' questions. If
Carl had been able to ride the
wave of Blue Suede Shoes
all the way and follow up on it
properly, could he have become
as big a star as Elvis, or even
bigger?
I don't think so. I believe that
without the accident Carl could
have become a real superstar in
the pop/rockabilly world.
However, neither he nor anyone
else could have become the star
Elvis was. Ain't nobody like
Elvis. Never was.
The Million Dollar
Quartet
There's certainly a sense that
Carl Perkins stands in the
shadow of Elvis, Jerry Lee, and
me. You can see when people talk
or write about the so-called
Million-Dollar Quartet
session, the only time to my
knowledge that all four of us
sang together.
Somehow Carl's name always seems
to come last in the list of
participants, but in fact it was
his session that day.
Nobody else was booked into the
studio. I was there - I was the
first to arrive and the last to
leave, contrary to what has been
written. I was just there to
watch Carl record, which he did
until mid-afternoon, when Elvis
came in with his girlfriend.
At that point the session
stopped and we all started
laughing and cutting up
together. Then Elvis sat down at
the piano, and we started
singing gospel songs we all
knew, then some Bill Monroe
songs.
Elvis wanted to hear songs Bill
had written besides Blue
Moon of Kentucky, and I
knew the whole repertoire. So,
again contrary to what some
people have written, my voice is
on the tape. It's not obvious,
because I was farthest away from
the mike and I was singing a lot
higher than I usually did in
order to stay in key with Elvis,
but I guarantee you, I'm there.
I forget exactly when Jerry Lee
came in, but I remember clearly
when Elvis invited him to take
over at the piano and he
launched into Vacation in
Heaven. That was the first
time I ever heard Jerry Lee, and
I was bowled over. He was so
great that the next thing I
remember, Elvis and his
girlfriend were gone.
The thing I remember after that,
apart from going next door for
coffee and cheeseburgers, is
seeing the now famous
'Million-Dollar Quartet' photo
in the Memphis Commercial Appeal
and wondering what happened to
Elvis' girlfriend. She'd been
sitting on the piano when the
photo was taken.
If you're wondering why Elvis
left right after Jerry Lee got
started, the answer is simple:
nobody, not even Elvis, ever
wanted to follow Jerry Lee. And
no, I don't remember Jerry Lee
ever saying anything disparaging
about Elvis. He didn't have an
attitude about Elvis especially;
he just had an attitude.
Source: Johnny Cash: The
Autobiography.1997 by John R.
Cash
About Johnny
Cash
Johnny Cash
was one of the most imposing
and influential figures in
post-World War II country
music. With his deep,
resonant baritone and spare,
percussive guitar, he had
a basic, distinctive sound.
Cash didn't sound like
Nashville, nor did he sound
like honky tonk or rock &
roll. He created his own
subgenre, falling halfway
between the blunt emotional
honesty of folk, the
rebelliousness of rock &
roll, and the world
weariness of country. Cash's
career coincided with the
birth of rock & roll, and
his rebellious attitude and
simple, direct musical
attack shared a lot of
similarities with rock.
However, there was a deep
sense of history -- as he
would later illustrate with
his series of historical
albums -- that kept him
forever tied with country.
And he was one of country
music's biggest stars of the
'50s and '60s, scoring well
over 100 hit singles.
� Copyright by Elvis
Australia
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