 |
 |
Hi everyone Due to particularly hectic work schedules we have been unable to bring you an EIN E-Alert in the past few weeks. But we're finally back. Nigel & Piers Now on www.elvisinfonet.com:
New unofficial CD release from the Southern Comfort label Elvis News Bytes
'The Complete Million Dollar Quartet' CD reviewTo celebrate the 50th Anniversary, RCA re-releases 'The Complete Million Dollar Quartet.' Here at last we have the missing 12 minutes, along with the songs being in the correct order and with audio restoration by expert Kevan Budd. On December 4th 2006 EIN's Piers Beagley re-examined this holy day of rock 'n' roll. Is there really all that much to get excited about? - Damn right there is! Check out EIN's detailed review on our site tomorrow!
Elvis at Keesler Air Force Base Excerpts from EIN's upcoming review of Paul Lichter's legendary book:"E.P. In Concert"
As with the Skar release, E.P. in Concert includes a show by song listing for each show/tour, show attendance figures and details of the jumpsuit worn by Elvis at each concert. Lichter also includes information on the belts worn at each show as Elvis often wore the same jumpsuit but interchanged the belt. Elvis historians will relish this information. Full review to be published on EIN next week
Elvis with Carolyn Jones (during the filming of King Creole)
Understanding ElvisAlan Wigney, Ottawa Sun Even for the outspoken John Lennon, it was harsh. "Elvis really died," Lennon opined in one of his final interviews, "the day he joined the army." It's a common enough misconception, best dispelled by a journey through the Essential Masters series that broke Presley's career into decades. Sure, the '50s box set is unparalleled in popular music. But there's a lot of fine listening in the '60s set -- particularly among the superb sessions cut in the wake of the so-called '68 comeback -- and arguably even better material in the '70s set. To pronounce Elvis Presley dead upon his entry into the U.S. Army might conveniently eliminate Roustabout and Change of Habit (in which nun Mary Tyler Moore must choose between her love for Elvis and her love for God) from the story. But it would also deprive us of some of Presley's best sides. And, frankly, of the jumpsuit-clad caricature America has come to misguidedly love. Besides, as the Elvis Sighting Society fervently maintains, Elvis never really died. Certainly, the King is very much alive to Ronda Marson, president of the Canadian chapter of the Love for Elvis fan club. Marson recalls discovering Elvis around age six, three years after his death. "My Daddy worked for RCA for over 25 years; so, needless to say, we had lots of Elvis records at home," Marson explains. "I distinctly remember playing dress-up, putting on an Elvis record and pretending that I was at his concert and he was singing to me. "There is just something melodic about Elvis' voice that captures people of all ages and from all walks of life. He truly is timeless, and I was just transfixed by him at an early age; his energy, raw talent and the honesty with which he performed. I think people are drawn to that." Hence, the officially sanctioned fan club, operated by Richmond Hill resident Marson and Kentucky-based pal Valerie Keen. The fan club has members spread across the continent as well as in the UK and in such unlikely locales as the Philippines. And through it, Marson has been able to meet a number of members of Elvis's inner-circle, from musicians Scotty Moore and DJ Fontana all the way up to daughter Lisa Marie -- an occasion she calls "one of the highlights of my life." Marson is quick to point out that she does have a life (and a paying job) outside Elvis. And that her mission, other than bringing like-minded fans together, is merely to remind people that the Hillbilly Cat was a humble, intelligent, giving, selfless soul, a great performer and a lot more than the bloated, much-parodied captive of his own success we so often view him as. "Unfortunately, to some people who don't truly understand the person Elvis was and what an icon he was, he becomes the bad end of some very tasteless jokes," Marson laments. "I cringe when I hear the terms 'peanut butter sandwich', 'jelly doughnuts' and 'Thank you ... thank you very much' used in bad context. However, I would have to say that to most people he is a force to be reckoned with, and someone to be respected. How else do you explain the impact he has on millions -- even today, almost 30 years after his death? Elvis gains new fans every day, and considering how the music-world has shifted since he was a recording artist that is no small feat."
Poster for David Stanley's upcoming film 'The Headhunter' Visit The Headhunter website A shot at the 'Elvis' TV miniseries drew hundreds of hip-swivelers to L.A.
Sure, they were all shook up. The stupefying strangers were in the nerve-racked "Elvis holding area" on the CBS lot, where the pompadoured sat like prisoners on cold, hard steel benches outside Sound Stage 46. All day, some 200 hip-swiveling look-alikes and far cries waited to hear their number screamed – "314! 471!" – at the recent open casting call for "Elvis," a TV miniseries airing in May about the lip-curling international superstar.
The crush of Kings caused minor chaos. CBS security officers jumped as the metal detector buzzed nonstop from meteor-sized gold pendants and belt buckles. Once, after hours of cooling their blue-suede shoes, some 40 sideburned souls broke the tension with a spontaneous sing-along of the 1969 hit "Suspicious Minds."
By 1:30 a.m. – 8½ hours before auditions began – the first wannabe was in line on Beverly Boulevard. He was a cop from Chattanooga, Tenn. A novice Pelvis, he wore plainclothes. And he wasn't very talkative. Asked if his fellow police officers knew about his Hollywood dream, he gulped: "No, and don't tell them." The huge-haired, black leather-clad Elvis behind him, a 44-year-old chiropractor from New York, was chattier. He gyrated and shouted to anybody, "Hey baby – What's up?" It's a miracle that cars didn't crash on the busy boulevard.
An array of Elvi snaked along the sidewalk, in Viva Las Vegas glitter, red silk shirts, retro jackets and civies, with receding hairlines and beer bellies and faces spruced with eyeliner and pancake makeup, and with guitars, mothers, agents, bodyguards and in one case, a 7-months-pregnant wife who quipped "we're having a little Lisa Marie" in tow.
A designer of gold-rimmed Elvis aviator sunglasses handed out business cards. "The same guys who made Elvis' suit made Chris' suit," chirped Jennifer Stalcup, the makeup artist/hair stylist/publicist for 28-year-old Chris Monteith, an impersonator from Bryson City, N.C., who sported a dazzling $4,000 peacock-motif jumpsuit. Stalcup re-applied his pink lipstick as traffic whizzed by. Jesse Aron, 29, jetted in from Wisconsin to carry on the family trade. His dad is a retired Elvis.
"The other kids' dads were construction workers and lawyers but my dad had a band," boasted Aron, who has been hunka hunka burnin' at parties and conventions full-time since 1998.
It was far less festive on freezing Sound Stage 46, where "American Idol" and "The Swan" has filmed. One by one, the candidates were called in by a red-jacketed CBS page and steered toward a mike planted in front of two tables filled with the show's director, casting execs and network pooh-bahs. Nearby was a photo of a young Elvis posing in 1956 outside the same CBS Television City where he taped his first famous appearance on "The Ed Sullivan Show."
Obviously, a lot of pompadoured pretenders didn't read the section of the casting call sheet that said applicants should look between 18 and 33. Many appeared to be around the age of Elvis, 42, when he keeled over in his Graceland bathroom in 1977 and died. The pain was less than a minute for each faux Elvis – name, rank, serial number and maybe 10 bars of either "Don't Be Cruel," "Jailhouse Rock" or "Hound Dog."
"Very nice. Thank you," director James Sadwith, who helmed the 1992 telepic "Sinatra," repeatedly said as his colleagues politely applauded. Then, in whiplash fashion, Sadwith pointed left to the red-jacketed CBS page, which meant Elvis was leaving the building. "I don't get to move around in that song," Monteith muttered after finishing "Don't Be Cruel." He was outta there. "Very nice. Thank you,"
Sadwith told Aron before the second-generation Elvis was on a plane back to the Cheese State. During a break, Peter Golden, CBS' exec VP for casting, said his team was looking for someone who had "the essence of Elvis" and could exude both the icon's boyish naiveté and incredible confidence. "We're not looking for an impersonator." The four-hour miniseries will concentrate on the Mississippi-born Elvis' rise to fame. Its star – and after all this, an established actor may be cast – will sing a little but mainly will lip-sync to Presley's recordings.
"I can tell before they even get to the microphone," Golden said of the raft of rock 'n' roll rejectees. By midafternoon, there were still Elvis sightings on Beverly Boulevard, the first pit stop of an hours-long wait before Presley prospects were shepherded to the check-in on the lot. Denese Dody, who manages 350 Elvis impersonators across the United States, chatted with several of her bell-bottomed brood. Steve Murphy, 44, wore a replica of the dark velvet suit Elvis donned when he met President Nixon in 1970, and flashed monstro gaudy rings and an ID bracelet copied after the King's.
"I try and be Elvis in the early '70s, but I'm a little heavy now," said Murphy, a former motorcycle mechanic who landed commercials and a sitcom cameo after being discovered by Dody at a Monrovia karaoke bar. Inside the holding pen, near a giant "Price Is Right" mural that read, "Come on down," one Elvis gushed that snagging the miniseries gig would be "like winning the Super Bowl."
A glum cohort nervously drummed his fingers on his stack of headshots. Others swapped Elvis stories, stretched, took bathroom breaks and chatted on cell phones. One bench-warmer looked like a nerdy professor in black short wig, bow tie, tweed jacket and thick dark-rimmed eyeglasses.
"I'm not Elvis. I'm Buddy Holly," said Warren Spalding, 46, who came to support the other half of his Northern California musical act, an Elvis. Brown-haired Jerry Neman, 35, was dressed in his everyday casual clothes since he's a boiler company mechanic and not a pro Elvis. He does spend a lot of time, however, singing his idol's tunes in his Inland Empire garage, which he turned into a recording studio with the same equipment Elvis used. "It's my fault," confessed his Elvis fanatic mother, Alicia, 57, who sat by his side. "When he was 2 years old, I dressed him up like Elvis. Some of the first words he said were 'CC' like 'CC Rider.' "
The rare Elvis who auditioned and wasn't waved left was escorted by a CBS page to the "green room" to learn lines to read at the tryout. The casting folks didn't make it clear to the others they were getting the boot. "Yeah! Wow! I really did good! They all applauded me! I'm so excited!" shrieked Silver Garcia, 30, the Compton Elvis as he bounded out the exit door. Only four leg-shakin' finger-snappin' crooners were eventually selected as possibles. One worked at the Elvis-A-Rama Museum in Las Vegas. Another was 21-year-old "Dean Z," another Sin City "tribute artist" who says he saw a TV documentary on Elvis at age 3 and cleared off the coffee table as a stage.
"I also like the way girls scream," he added. Not all the eighty-sixed Elvises, though, were about to check into the Heartbreak Hotel. Lou Vuto, 42, the jumpsuited showman with the blue contact lenses, was going back to his Smoky Mountains theater where he's headlined as the King for nine years. It might've been a seconds-long shot at fame, but Vuto said the cost of the flight to L.A. and everything else was "absolutely worth the experience."
"And if you're ever in Gatlinburg," he drawled Elvis-like, "come see my show." Source: The Shreveport Times About 30 Elvis impersonators will suit up in black wigs, big shades and plenty of polyester and rhinestones to perform on the same stage where Elvis got his start. The days of the Louisiana Hayride are long gone, but the memory of Elvis' early performance at the Municipal Auditorium continues to draw people to the venue. The EIN E-Alert is a free information service from the Elvis Information Network (EIN) for Elvis fans. If you do not wish to receive future editions of the EIN E-Alert simply reply to this message with REMOVE in the subject line |
|
