Elvis Presley – Roots Revolution: The Louisiana Hayride Recordings
David Cantwell
Posted On November 1, 2002
This collection of Elvis Presley performances, recorded for the Louisiana Hayride radio show in 1954 and ’55, really does capture a revolution in the making. At first, Elvis was positioned as just another country act. “I’m sick, sober, and sorry,” Elvis deadpans, unconvincingly, when Hayride chief Jack Logan asks him how he’s getting along. Quickly, though, Logan and Presley — as well as increasingly out-of-control audiences — knew Elvis wasn’t just another anything. The Memphis Flash, as Logan termed him, had “a new, distinctive style.” “You got anything else to say, sir?” Presley interrupts during one broadcast, eager to get on with it.
These Hayride recordings let us revisit the zany call-and-response of doghouse bassist Bill Black; the period’s quaint radio advertisements (“LSMFT — Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco. And then that tobacco is toasted!”); the jaunty accompaniment of pianist Floyd Cramer on “Twiddle Dee”; and of course the explosive screams each time Elvis hiccups or twitches an eyelid. The disc also includes one of the very first announcements of “Elvis has left the building.”
It’s all thrilling and important. At this late date, however, it’s no longer revelatory. Indeed, these performances have been issued before. What’s “new” this time around is that Tomato has commissioned players to punch up the faint instrumental parts of the original recordings — incompletely captured, originally, off Elvis’ vocal mike. So on this disc, when Elvis implores Scotty Moore to “rock,” for instance, it’s mostly the electric guitar of “restoration musician” Jon Paris that we hear doing the rocking. He’s mimicking, we’re told, the parts that Moore really played. This is all noted, by the way, in the set’s booklet — but not on the jewel box itself.
It’s not the first time that latter-day Presley-mania has inspired a kind of reverse karaoke. But while the touring production dubbed The Concert creates a new experience for both Presley’s old TCB touring musicians and the fans filling arenas to see the band perform to the King’s video image, these Tomato recordings pretend actually to re-create the past, to capture the long-gone thing itself. Yet that’s precisely what this particular brand of musical “restoration” renders impossible by its very premise.
