Elvis How Great Thou Art. There were links to my parents childhood all throughout my own. There was the I Love Lucy on Channel 50, Welsh Rarebit, Muscle Cars, etc...I would watch I love Lucy religiously with my mother when waiting for my brother to come home for lunch to walk me to kindergarten. And there was Elvis Presley. I don't imagine this situation is in any way unique. Although, for my fastidious and sterile neighbours it was actually Neil Diamond as popular icon of note. I remember once house sitting when they were away, cutting the lawn, cleaning the pool, and always there was a cassette copy of Live at the Greek on the stereo. But for my mother it was Elvis Presley. Forever and Always. I went to a local meeting concerning the pending construction of the Wabash Bridge here in Arapahoe County and everyone there looked more to be of the pro-Bing Crosby crowd rather than the legions of teens that lost their innocence to Elvis Presley and Joe Mccarthy, according to Clooney. First track is the title track. It's epic and gorgeous and filled with a swagger for Jesus. It is miles apart from say the Soul Stirrers who seethed with a fire of angst and passion of rebellion in their "devoutness" as stand in for racial injustice where as by contrast my friend Elvis seems more of a "Jesus" fan. Elvis' and Sam Cooke's relationship with their saviour must have been incredibly nuanced seeing as how they had somewhat liberal or unorthodox views on what adhering to the major tenets of their faith meant. The crescendo here is just marvelous. I don't remember a lot of Elvis gospel on the stereo when I was a kid. it was Stuck on You and Return to Sender and Elvis movies on Sunday afternoons. Swagger is the key, Jesus is his rock, the real head of the Memphis Mafia. There is swagger that has followed on down a thread long after Elvis passed, there in Peter Hook's bass, in Betty Marie Barnes' voice, in John Thain. Second track has finished, I am distracted, it was deliriously pretty. Third track now. His voice in crooner mood but without any sort of skeezy pick-up artist quality. Elvis never made anyone's skin crawl did he? He did have the angellic spirit in his voice which contradicted his true nature but I still bet that even the aggrop-geriatrics in the crowd at my zoning meeting thought he could be a good boy if only he'd gotten a haircut. But then they were adults by the time they turned 18 and my parent's compadres are still reveling in their adolescence. Before Elvis there wasn't anyone to write the rule book for being Elvis was there and therefore as trailblazer he's forgiven for his excesses. There was Sinatra, maybe he was comaprable, I don't know, he's older than dirt man and did the girls swoon when he sang 'The Trolley Song'? He may have dated Ann Margret or her mother? My own relationship with the ten commandments is not pristine and there was never a rulebook for living as me either so I know where Elvis is coming from. Insecure, awkwardly handsome, intelligent, frontal lobe detachment syndrome, the works. Next track, again this is preposterously gorgeous and moving and pure delight. Farther Along. I went to Sunday School every Sunday for a long time. I was also confirmed. I was once an acolyte in the United Church of Christ but my main concern at the time was less the solemnity of a call to religion and more the deep red shag carpet that when combined with the drafty 115 year old chapel caused there to be an ungodly surplus amount of static electricity in the pews during each and every ceremony so that the wayward acolytes spent most services shocking each other at inappropriate times during the service. Better than Paul Theroux. There was the good Reverend Zink. Surely he was an Elvis fan. Would he sit in his ofice after a stirring Sunday morning sermon and put on Farther Along in order to relax? I would have. "You Shall Have No Other Gods", shall is interesting, I work with a great deal of OSHA regulations and they use the same quasi-religious language, I suppose it was Nixon then that came down from Sinai in tweed with the shall requirements that I am much more bound to than the hebrew commandments. Stand By Me, most of these tracks have but a lone piano as accompaniment, laid far far in the background and his and the choir voice's booming together elegantly way out in front. Could you imagine Clay Aiken singing like this? No. He doesn't have any swagger at all. You know people like Jerry Schiller and Joe Esposito may be the only people I could look down upon for having wasted their lives even more than I have. Were they proud when they went home for Christmas to see their parents for their once annual visit and they discovered that they still made their living remora like, as a parasite on the King of Rock'n'Roll? I would have been proud. They bought Cadillacs because Elvis didn't have the time. "No idols", I have this one covered, my apartment looks as sterile as the day I moved in. I can't bring myself to define myself by sentimentality, I think it's the inner existence that is sealed off from the real world. So High, oh this is glorious, praise be, it swings and rolls and it's obviously influenced by a youth spent in Black churches, bravo, this is so bloody great. Did Elvis worship himself and thus violate big number two? Probably. But really how could Elvis not fall in love after the 68 comeback special when he saw what was staring back at him in the mirror? "Lord's Name in Vain", I don't swear much at all though more than I used to. I don't swear in front of people I care about. Even so, God D**n, would not rank as a favorite anyhow. Where Could I Go But to the Lord, fingersnaps and a deep resonant vocal, probably recorded on top of the line four track technology. And here I foolishly think that Peter and Graeme Jefferies made remarkable use of archaic technology. Pah. Does Elvis have any cache? He's like General Motors or IBM, a brand, an ideal that needs refreshing. I quite liked that remix that came out a few years ago. Would an entire record filled with likeminded moxes rekindle the imagination of America? Who knows. Have you noticed how Joebama is completely out of his depth? It's remarkable that he looks so clueless so soon. These are not the end days but he's making thm out to be so he can secure that 1 billion dollars for the pearl of the American industrial prominence- Amtrak. Cheers. "Remember the Sabbath", ha, I work more Sundays than I rest. I did not work this past Sunday but I missed the Super Bowl anyhow. I watched Down to Earth and Morning Glory instead. Down to Earth is mostly dreadful except for the happy acquired knowledge that Heaven's Gate borrowed so liberally from such a dreadful movie and its prequel. Rita Hayworth was well cast as goddess. Morning Glory is amazing by comparison. Sure sure it is shoddily constructed, more interesting things happen off screen than on but Katherine Hepburn is rather amazing in it. There are still songs playing in the background and there is a feral nature to the worshipping going on now, Run On. Elvis at the halftime of the Super Bowl, oh what a dream. Would Elvis have made a grand old man? He'd be 74 years old, not that much older than tired old Bruce Springsteen. I could see Elvis in a stylish track suit and crocs belting out Burning Love to the grandmas all over the world and he would not have fallen for Joebama's fluff. Surely he would have been a Ron Paul man. Where No One Stands Alone, tender and sweet and powerful and dramatic. It's funny to me when people complain about Elvis singing while pretending to play the guitar. Wy would he need to play an instrument for justification as an artist when he can sing like this? Should Placido Domingo play the french horn while singing too? Silly. Crying in the Chapel, I went to take my contacts out, sorry, where was I? "Honor they parents", yeah sure, I am the pitiable adult son out with his parents watching Tom Cruise movies and listening to the June Brides in the back seat of a minivan while they lament over my miserable existence with that thousand yard stare out the window at the endless rows of Southern Pines. Crying...is played regularly on the radio, it isn't the best song here, but it's the most "pop", I'd like to hear the Clientele do a cover. There'll Be Peace in the Valley. The second to last track. I don't know who sings the chorus. It isn't Elvis. Right? They can't quite compare to Sam Cooke, it's sedate and inhibited, it's the difference between a celebration and a death cult. This is my least favorite track on the record since it's so monotonous and staid. No sex appeal for Jesus? Who better to make love to than the lord. Elvis the monophysite in some sort of psychological incest. Oh wait, that was the last track. Fabulous stuff.