Music Blogs

When Elvis Presley donned a black leather suit and stepped in front of NBC's cameras for his 1968 TV special, he changed the historical perception of his legend forever. In this excerpt from the extensive liner notes for the new Complete '68 Comeback Special box set, author and music historian Harvey Kubernik explains how it all came together.––Barney Hoskyns, RBP Editorial Director

Elvis Presley entered the heartbreaking year of 1968 as a mere blip on the radar screen of a generation wallowing in purple haze. Luxuriating high above Sunset Boulevard in Trousdale Estates, he gave little thought to the kandy-colored hordes marching up and down the neon Strip content to placate his remaining fans with star turns in such disposable drive-in fare as Clambake.

Presley was still issuing movie soundtrack albums but garnering nowhere near the sales figures of a smash hit like Blue Hawaii. It had been nearly six years since "Good Luck Charm" had topped the Billboard 100, an eternity for an increasingly impatient, impetuous and impertinent audience. The arrival of Bob Dylan, the Beatles, and all that followed in their wake, further diminished the relevance of an artist who burned brightest when girls wore poodle skirts and boys donned coonskin caps. His most recent single, a carousing treatment of Jerry Reed's hook-laden "Guitar Man," had failed to enter the Top 40.

In recent years it was "all happening" in Hollywood at Ciro's nightclub, where the Byrds were chiming blissfully away, where Love were blazing at Bido Lito's or at the Whisky a Go Go, where the Doors' Jim Morrison was threatening to implode. Elvis and his posse, meanwhile, were holding court at the Trip, grooving hard to the old school soul stylings of Jackie Wilson. He was intoxicated by Wilson's polished stage presence, a litany of body twists and finger snaps that punctuated each beat.

Presley himself, however, had not commandeered a stage since March 25, 1961, at the Bloch Arena in Pearl Harbor Hawaii, a benefit on behalf of the Memorial Fund of the battleship U.S.S. Arizona. Now, the only shakin' goin' on was when a film director barked out a call for "Action!"

But it would have been naïve to view Presley as a spent force. If he felt no desperate need to embrace the next "new thing" it was because his music drew from a deeper, more imperishable well, brimming with the twang of hill country blues, the wail of the Delta church, and the mediating rigor of pop song craft. It was time to reassert the primacy of these musical values.

Enter Colonel Tom Parker, Presley's manager, a man for whom a pair of threes could do the heavy lifting of a full house...provided you had the moxie. He was all too aware that the "brand" needed refreshing and that television – that coolest of mediums – just might make The King a hot property again.

Elvis hadn't been on the small screen since Frank Sinatra's Timex Special for ABC television, welcoming him back from the service in May 1960. Colonel Tom shrewdly maneuvered a sweet deal from NBC-TV's Tom Sarnoff. Ostensibly a boiler-plate Christmas special – Elvis bedecked in seasonal tinsel, singing treacle owned by Elvis and the Colonel's publishing company, natch – Parker parlayed the network's commitment to include financing for a feature film, which was becoming increasingly harder to secure. The show, sponsored by Singer Sewing Machines, was to be called ELVIS.

What the Colonel hadn't anticipated was the appearance of a joker in the deck, in the form of television director/producer Steve Binder, who – with his production company partner, engineer/music producer Bones Howe – set Elvis off on a personal journey that bordered on a career resurrection. Binder was the right man at the right moment. In October 1964 he'd been at the helm of The T.A.M.I. Show, a groundbreaking pop circus that starred James Brown, the Rolling Stones, Jan & Dean, the Beach Boys, Chuck Berry, Leslie Gore, the Miracles, and Marvin Gaye.

"Elvis and I hit it off," remembered Binder. "I didn't feel like the awestruck audience to a superstar – he was just another guy my age. He'd come to the office I shared with Bones on Sunset Boulevard every day. Everyone on the team was treated equally, and Elvis joined us in that spirit."

Dayton "Bones" Howe was a soft-spoken, jazz-loving, Southern gentleman who'd moved to Los Angeles from Atlanta in 1956. He quickly settled his rail-thin frame (hence, the nickname) behind the mixing console at Radio Recorders Studio, serving under principal engineer Thorne Nogar on some the young Presley's breakthrough hits. Over the next decade he became one of the most celebrated engineers in the music industry, as well as producing huge hits by the Association, the Turtles, the Monkees, and the Fifth Dimension.

With production set to begin on June 20 at NBC's Burbank facilities, Presley retreated to Hawaii for two different vacations to get tanned, rested, and ready. But from the moment Elvis arrived on the set, a less confident, more vulnerable side emerged that inspired Binder to make a momentous decision.

"Elvis decided to move into NBC physically for the period we were in production," says Binder. "When we finished rehearsals Elvis would start jamming with his friends around the baby grand piano and anybody who happened to be there or invited in started jamming with him. I thought, 'This is like looking into a keyhole of something that only very few people get to see behind the scenes. I've got to get it on tape. When I told Elvis what we were gonna do he was jazzed, But he said, 'If I'm gonna do it I wanna bring in [guitarist] Scotty [Moore] and [drummer] D.J. [Fontana].' 'Cause Scotty and DJ were never originally a part of the Special."

It is a delicious irony that the most packaged, pre-meditated image in pop culture could reclaim his most authentic self in such a spontaneous fashion. Clearly scared to death, he retreated to his strengths, surrounded by musicians who understood and relished the same impulse to simply sing and play. Elemental in its ferocity, the "Sit-down" section is a time-capsule that students of music, let alone Elvis fans, will long cherish.

If the "Sit-down" segment is viewed as nothing short of biblical by Presley acolytes, it should not diminish the vitality of the remainder of the show. Elvis dug deep into his repertoire, choosing songs that warranted fresh treatments. Author and critic Greil Marcus, in his 1975 book Mystery Train, described the Elvis Presley "1968 TV Special" soundtrack vinyl as "the finest music of his life… if ever there was music that bleeds, this was it." When Presley saw the completed 60-minute show, he told Binder, "It's was the greatest thing I've ever done in my life."

In the summer of 1969 Presley headlined at the International Hotel in Las Vegas. "Memories" was included in the opening night set. In October, Presley was back at the No. 1 position on the hit parade with the Mark James-penned cautionary tale, "Suspicious Minds." For a brief, shining moment, the King had recaptured his throne.

Read dozens more Elvis articles at www.rocksbackpages.com. Over 12,000 articles by the greatest writers from the finest rock publications of the last 40 years.