In the Studio with Elvis Presley, the King of Rock and Roll

Most of Elvis Presley’s songs were written by other people and, today, he is best known as a movie star from a bygone era. In what seemed an idyllic life to outsiders, the only self-controlled aspect of his existence was his musical repertoire. In his studio catalog, what stands out to casual listeners is the large amount of unfamiliar tunes as, over 24 studio discs, only a handful of cuts ring a bell.

Early album titles like Elvis for Everyone and Something for Everybody established the pattern, and Presley never disappoints in this category, moving from “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” and “Danny Boy” to “Hey Jude” and “Something” while placing such musicians as Chuck Berry, Little Richard, and Hank Williams on the same compositional plateau as Larry Gatlin, Don McLean.and Tony Joe White. He ran the gamut of popular styles during his career, and without such mega-hits as “Jailhouse Rock,” “Love Me Tender,” and “Suspicious Minds” in the foreground, it is easy for anyone to jump into his world and encounter a new sonic experience.

Part One: 1956–1966

Elvis Presley (1956) — (5/10)

Innocence hangs over Elvis Presley’s debut. While the rock and roll rulebook is written here, Elvis himself sounds somewhat unsure, as he attempts to slice his way through such smoky romps as “I Got a Woman.” Too much slap delay kills songs that beg for simplicity, like his cover of “Blue Moon.” “Money Honey” and opener “Blue Suede Shoes” work best, but it is tough not to get the impression that the album is pedestrian, and the vocalist is new to singing in the recording studio.

Elvis (1957) — (4/10)

A sophomore slump is in effect on Elvis’ self-titled second album. Released a mere seven months after his debut, development seems minimal. “Love Me” worked better live, and the Little Richard covers (“Rip It Up,” “Ready Teddy”) are OK. But the album is best represented by “Old Shep,” a bland moment of oversinging to a beloved pet who eventually goes, “Where the good doggies go.” It’s a bargain-bin entry.

Elvis’ Christmas Album (1957) — (6/10)

Interesting but inessential, Elvis’ Christmas Album started the trend of rock stars issuing full holiday themed recordings. “Winter Wonderland” comes off as just another Elvis song, given its insistence upon placing vocal nuance over the overall performance. “Blue Christmas” is fun, but only lasts for a few minutes in the mind. “It’s Christmas Time” boasts a tough rock backbeat and pre-Beatles tonality. Others are familiar, but are stuck in first gear. “I Believe” is known, but doesn’t really register much. “Take My Hand” and “It Is No Secret” change the subject entirely, and do not truly belong on a mostly secular album about Santa Claus.

Elvis is Back (1960) — (5/10)

The title of Elvis’ 1960 studio album refers to his return to the United States upon the end of his military service. Lower-voiced gravel abounds, as he searches for the soul of the blues. “Reconsider Baby” and “Fever” are moments that comes mighty close, as while the band is tight as a knot, Presley hangs loose. However, expertise and style are still on display, as Elvis continually questions his place in the world (“Soldier Boy.”) But the disc is a decent smorgasbord of early rock, gospel, and R&B.

His Hand in Mine (1960) (6/10)

Elvis’ first all-gospel album is important to the overall trajectory of the Presley ethos. Various songs reference white and gold colors (“Milky White Way”), and he would later wear those colors openly on medallion-themed jumpsuits that would enhance the visualization of his secular-yet-Christian hip-shaking (“Working on a Building.”) Given his ultimate fate, it makes sense for him to have gone in this direction. In Graceland, the higher you get, the closer you are to God. Death, drugs, and prayer each provide pipelines toward this. In 1960, Presley was a bit unsure, but pulsating rhythms, distinct choral singing, and a dry presentation give the album all the traditional elements of black congregational music, and the impression that this was a tentative first step into lands The King would later conquer.

Something for Everybody (1961) — (5/10)

Something for Everybody tries to be everything to everyone in too many ways. The first half consists mostly of ballads; the back half rocks out. Elvis picks some average tunes (“I Slipped, I stumbled, and I Fell,” “Sentimental Me”) with none really sticking out. The band backs him with fire, though, turning in a very professional sounding performance throughout. Traces of the Hollywood sound exist, the reverb is harsh, and the lyrics fail to inspire. The production capabilities were audibly maxed out, with some of the tape edits and combinations of different takes clearly audible. But the main issue is the lack of quality songs, which overshadows the positive qualities.

Pot Luck (1962) — (9/10)

For Pot Luck, the best songs available are chosen, top-notch production is employed, and the lead singer is fully engaged — meaning nearly everything works. The disc captures Elvis during a very inspired moment, singing compositions that are more about the pitfalls of love than the simplistic joys of romance. In “I’m Yours,” he is heading toward doom by engaging in marriage, and ensures that he still has the navy blues in “Something Borrowed.” He soars like the Fourth Tenor in n “Fountain of Love,” a cut that displays an overt Spanish sensibility with its flamenco guitar, which reappears within several other tunes. “Something You’ll Never Forget” starts off slow, but Presley puts in the work, breathing his way through a song that brags about his below-the-waist virtues. At times, his husky pipes push the limits of what the recording console could handle, but most performances are as clear as an ocean stream. This giving the tunes extra power, as listeners can easily follow along with the subtleties.

Elvis for Everyone (1965) — (4/10)

On Elvis for Everyone, Presley puts serious effort into sounding as expansive as possible, as he displays a willingness to try just about anything. Chuck Berry’s “Memphis,” acoustic ballad “In My Way,” the Spanish language “Santa Lucia,” and a run-through of Hank Williams’ “Your Cheatin’ Heart” all sit side-by-side, and flop hard. Although Elvis adopts a true — and rare — falsetto on “I Met Her Today,” he sounds tired elsewhere. “Sound Advice” is a silly throwaway, “When it Rains, it Pours” is as messy as a hurricane. On this album, the band sounds like it is playing together for the very first time and, up until this time, such an off-handed nature was not the norm for Elvis Presley records.

Part Two: 1967–1972

How Great Thou Art (1967) — (10/10)

Elvis’ second stab at an all-gospel album is a career highlight, as he has more fun than ever before. Even though the environment is far more serious than usual for Elvis, Presley utilizes a variety of intonations to proclaim love for the Lord. The title track hooks you immediately with its haunting melody, and “So High” really roars northward. “In the Garden” draws you into believing in whatever Elvis is selling, as does “Where Could I Go But the Lord.” Presley sits at the crossroads between his old work and his newfound inspirations here, presenting God as a mainstream attraction while preaching in a golden-gated chapel within his own self-created land of grace.

From Elvis in Memphis (1969) (7/10)

Following in the footsteps of such records as Dusty Springfield’s Dusty in Memphis and Paul Revere and the Raiders’ Goin’ to Memphis, From Elvis in Memphis hides its lead singer behind a thick wall of reverb and chaotic overproduction. Like on a Phil Spector-produced record, the best moments roar from the clouds, displaying Elvis’ new post-gospel sound. “Wearin’ That Loved On Look,” “Only the Strong Survive,” and “Power of My Love” each convey the same vibe as the ’68 Comeback Special, with horns and hard-panned female backing vocalists blazing like a steam train.Chuck Jackson’s “Any Day Now” is given a blaring run for its money; although the inner-city narrative is still relevant, Mac Davis’ “In the Ghetto” sounds empty, even amidst the same sonic elements that stamp the rest of the songs — resulting in a mixed bag. At its strongest, the album finds Presley in a loose, mischievous mode, fusing religion with sexuality with a wink and nod. The rest tries to place Presley on a heavenly pedestal as he aims for significance (“Long Black Limousine,” “Gentle On My Mind.”)

That’s the Way it Is (1970) — (8/10)

A rough-voiced, flub-filled collection of ramshackle quality live and studio cuts, the unpredictable nature of That’s the Way it Is entices enjoyment. “You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me” displays how much humor and panache Elvis infused into his recordings around this time, with the rest of the band complementing him with many random comments in the background. “I Just Can’t Help Belevin’” swings, “Patch it Up” is a tough pillar of stone, and James Burton’s guitar is on fire on every track. On “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” he replaces both Simon and Garfunkel, and replaces both Righteous Brothers on a very good rendition of “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling.” “Just Pretend” and “Stranger in the Crowd” reach the highest peaks on an album where Presley unleashes the gospel of rock and roll.
Elvis Country (I’m 10,000 Years Old) (1970) — (5/10)

Something is missing within Elvis country on I’m 10,000 Years Old — a low inspiration collection of passionless tunes (“Snowbird,” “Whole Lotta Shakin’ Going On.”) Elvis’ vision of country is really rockabilly (“I Washed My Hands in Muddy Water”), and while his upper range is rough here, he acknowledges it, opting for more soothing tones (“Faded Love.”) The smoother terrain point toward the softer pop songs he would later record, with the hit “There Goes My Everything” showcasing the soupy string-laden approach. An unresolved and misguided concept winds its way through the proceedings, but on an album that drearily plays down his strengths, Elvis seems as lost as the concept itself is.

Love Letters From Elvis (1970) — (8/10)

Tricking the audience into believing this is an album of love songs, on Love Letters, Elvis instead name-checks God countless times, letting you know that this profession of love and lust is not about the pleasures of the flesh. In full worship mode, Elvis now exudes the opposite of his film-based, onscreen persona. The tough outcast playboy is now sweet (“Love Letters”), fun (“Keep Your Hands Off Her/Got My Mojo Working”), and humble, as his cover of “Rags to Riches” blows everything else out of the water. On it, Elvis really lets loose, and pushes his voice to the brink on a rendition of a classic that barely sounds like the better-known versions. In fact, this could qualify as one of the King’s greatest vocal moments. At its conclusion, he sings so hard that it sounds like he damages the microphone’s diaphragm — which makes you feel like you are right there with a regular person and not an icon later immortalized on a postage stamp.

The Wonderful World of Christmas (1971) — (7/10)

Can an album be both excellent and poor at the same time? That’s the issue here, as Elvis gives glimpses of his very best efforts (“If I Get Home on Christmas Day”) and also his absolute worst work. Not within a single song, of course, but overall, he sounds so exhausted that his shout out to another band member to, “Wake up” can only be considered oddly ironic. You wonder what is going on as he mumbles his way through “Merry Christmas, Baby” and surprisingly stumbles over “Joy to the World.” “Silver Bells” mostly manages to avoid the pain, but “Winter Wonderland” tries to copy the old style unsuccessfully, and without the pathos. It is a great example of changes within Presley himself. As a bridge between eras, when he revisits his past, he sounds like a totally different person with an altered soul.

Elvis Now (1972) — (1/10)

No longer interested in making music, Elvis phones in an album that has no idea what it wants to achieve. “Put Your Hand In the Hand” and “Miracle of the Rosary” continue well-tread gospel themes, but both are miserable, with “Rosary” simply reciting the Hail Mary prayer over boring, stilted muzak. A revisitation of “I’m 10,000 Years Old” tries to add a rock edge; it quickly stalls underneath its own weightlessness and musicians that do not know where the changes fall or what to play over them. A shaky version of Gordon Lightfoot’s “Early Morning Rain” could have been performed by any artist. Other songs like “Until It’s Time For You To Go” and “We Can Make the Morning” try to place Elvis in the adult-contemporary company of James Taylor; “Fools Rush In” is uncharacteristically Beatles and, as for the Fab Four, on Now, Elvis “sings” the absolute worst rendition of “Hey Jude” ever. Here, the “King” is hoarse and unrecognizable. Flubbing everything everywhere, missing all the actual notes, and changing the lyrics to, “Hey Jude/ Don’t be a fool” to satisfy his own ego, the soul of a once-vital and massively influential artist is gone.

He Touched Me (1972) — (5/10)

This album is tough to recommend. Although JD and the Stamps were talented gospel singers, their vocals are far louder than Elvis’ on most cuts, leaving the impression it was either conceived as a Stamps album with Elvis simply adding his voice later, or that Elvis was in bad form during the sessions, and needed the boost. Given the results of the Now album and the fact that many notes are blown on this one, the latter would not be unsurprising. The Stamps’ power harmonies drown out Presley throughout, as the production runs amok with distortion, over compression, and a lead singer relegated to the background. If you had asked Elvis, he might have said he was playing support for the Lord, or taking one for “The Team.” But on “Reach Out to Jesus,” he at least manages to muster up enough energy to lay out the reasons for his success. Unpolished and dusted off in a few days, though, the album mostly replaces heart and soul with shallow, surface-level platitudes.

Part Three: 1973–1977

Fool (1973) — (6/10)

In 1973, Elvis checked in with Fool — a quickly recorded album heavily panned by even his own inner circle. Much of the Memphis Mafia’s own criticism is warranted, as the disc mixes half-finished studio recordings like the title track, “It’s Impossible,” and “I Will Be True” with half-baked live cuts that do little to help the situation. The merging of the old and new only calls attention to the inconsistencies, and with Presley in slightly better vocal form than he had been on the previous few releases, this project was a bit of a missed opportunity — albeit one that would not have returned Elvis to the heights of fame.

Raised on Rock/For Ol’ Times Sake (1973) — (5/10)

Instead of being raised on rock and roll, Elvis Presley was introduced to rock music through such musicians as Carl Perkins and Little Richard. Eventually, he could sing the phone book, but it took a while, and did not last long. The main issue with Raised on Rock is Presley’s unwillingness to truly stretch his voice. Mentally, he is now a fragile flower, unconfident in his abilities. When he tackles edgier songs like “If You Don’t Come Back” and “Just a Little Bit,” you can hear the wheels of thought rolling, with him attempting to figure out how to sing the lines on the spot. Singing the wrong notes at the wrong times, and forced into unnatural vocalizations by following trends, here, Presley’s music is unfamiliar to both himself and his core audience.

Good Times (1974) — (5/10)

Good Times is indicative of why record buyers had soured on Elvis. The material flies by like a gust of mosquito. Too often, it simply exists. Presley sings decently, and has become a brand, at this point. His band plays a style of music designed and guaranteed to resemble the patented Elvis sound. Outside of “I Got a Feelin’ In My Body,” however, the record is easily forgotten. That tune is a legitimate Christian rocker, but adult-contemporary settings hamper “Take Good Care of Her” and “Good Time Charlie’s Got the Blues.” “Talk About the Good Times” closes the album with a frantic rocker, but it’s not enough to save the rest.

Promised Land — 1975 (3/10)

The King abdicating his throne on Promised Land. The album’s title implies this could potentially be yet another mixture of gospel and rock, but all listeners get are nearly unfinished-sounding pop cuts, sappy ballads, and a less-than-ideal setlist in which few songs resonate. Another Chuck Berry cover, the title track resembles a big rig, rolling down the road toward the weigh station. This is one of Elvis’ best Berry interpretations,” and “Midnight” does the unthinkable on such a weak album by introducing a mini-opera containing some levels of emotional development. “Your Love’s Been a Long Time Comin’” follows suit, but “Mr. Songman” is a snooze, “Help Me” and “Thinking About You” are as imaginative as their titles, and “There’s a Honky Tonk Angel (Who Will Take Me Back In)” is a lame attempt at comedy. The cover photo is great, but there’s no way he was performing any of these songs during that live performance.

Today (1975) — (2/10)

Controversy swirled around the King during the mid-1970s. Interventions occurred; none worked. Books were written; friends were lost. Tax problems meant Elvis would be hitting the road yet again, with a grueling grind of gigs keeping him away from rest and sanity. In this state, the Today album was born. Elvis apparently had next-to-nothing left in the tank apart from a feint croon that adds shades of tragedy to “Fairytale” and “Pieces of My Life.” While hearing Elvis foreshadow tragedy is disconcerting, his forced attempts to rock out (“T-R-O-U-B-L-E,” “Shake a Hand”) are lifeless. “Green, Green Grass of Home” leaves the listener hungry for Tom Jones. “And I Love You So” continues the pattern of moving Elvis into easy listening territory as the only moment that piques interest.

From Elvis Presley Boulevard, Memphis, Tennessee (1976) — (7/10)

By America’s Bicentennial, Elvis Presley had gained a reputation for uneven performances both live and in the studio. His music had fallen off the map, and radio programmers preferred the golden hits. But this album is somewhat of a comeback for the King. Vocally, he is once again in full command, and the engineers have adorned him with a bevy of session players. On “Danny Boy,” Elvis has fun mangling the arrangement and expected vocal lines. “Hurt” shows he could still belt out the high notes. “Solitaire” allows crooning and wailing within the same composition. “I’ll Never Fall in Love Again” is surprisingly effective as a display of Elvis’ full vocal talents. Professional songwriters lend some pleasant fare such as “The Last Farewell” and “Bitter They Are, Harder They Fall”; these and the cover of “Blue Eyes Crying In the Rain” make you wish the massive group of background vocalists had been muted. But either way, this particular affair is a solid one.

Moody Blue (1977) — (6/10)

By adding disco beats to rockabilly music and following production trends, Moody Blue mostly works well as a modern redefinition of the Elvis Presley sound. In this way, it is the most “current” sounding album released during his lifetime. On “Little Darling,” Presley sits confidently between American Graffiti and Grease while returning to the beginning of his own journey in a revisitation that finally pays off. “Way Down” and the title track both sound more mature, with a stylized vocal that would inarguably have kept him relevant through the ’80s. “Pledging My Love” is what it says it is, and not a religious decoy. “She Thinks I Still Care” is sung by a man who understands. No comprehension occurs on “Unchained Melody,” though; as Elvis sounds like he is performing in a room far away from the patched-in audience. Similarly, as Elvis intones “If You Love Me (Let Me Know),” he interacts with no one (unlike what is heard and seen, respectively, on his live albums and concert films.) But the wistful “He’ll Have to Go” symbolizes a progression of sorts, as Presley finds fresh nuances in a well-worn voice, and leaving the world with the final impression that, under better circumstances, he would have continued on as an ambassador for good, old fashioned rock and roll.

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