Blindspotting: Elvis Presley, "From Elvis in Memphis"

The Legacy: The '60s produced their share of hits for Elvis, but from a creative standpoint, they weren't particularly kind. Of course, that wasn't necessarily of primary importance to Elvis' manager, Colonel Tom Parker; after Elvis returned from military duty in 1960, Parker saw the immense commercial potential in restricting his recording activity to soundtrack albums for films he starred in, and for much of the decade, Presley's musical output consisted of songs made for the movies he churned out.

As I said, this era wasn't entirely devoid of hits. "Can't Help Falling in Love" and "Return to Sender" were soundtrack songs, for example. Over time, however, Elvis' audience started tuning out, and when the Speedway soundtrack limped to a No. 82 chart peak in 1968, all parties concerned knew the formula had run its course.

Parker's response was to sink even lower on the four-quadrant marketing chart by booking Elvis to perform a bunch of Christmas carols for a live television special. Fortunately, the special's producer, Steve Binder — who I hope was handed a medal or trophy at some point — pushed for more of a best-of set, and the result was the comeback-inducing concert that produced the hit Elvis album in December of '68.

Reenergized and determined to quit doing hack work for quick bucks, Elvis resolved to record a new studio album — and because Memphis held the hot musical hand of the moment, it was decided that he'd break with tradition and head there to record with producer Chips Moman, an early Stax associate who left that label to start his own joint, American Sound Studio.

Even in his somewhat diminished form, Elvis' operation was still massive, and stuffed with people who had a major interest in protecting their own personal fiefdom. That group included Elvis' usual producer Felton Jarvis, who flew to Memphis to serve as a "second producer" on the sessions, and also Freddy Bienstock, who headed up the Elvis-focused subsidiary of the Hill & Range publishing company, which held the rights to a major chunk of his catalog.

As one might imagine, this led to a series of struggles for control, and in a different world, the whole project would have had its plug pulled early on. But even surrounded with hangers-on, Elvis still had enough juice to get what he wanted, and after sitting out a few days to nurse a cold and celebrate his daughter's first birthday, he was able to track a whopping 34 songs, 12 of which were selected for the resulting album, suitably titled From Elvis in Memphis.

Although From Elvis in Memphis wasn't necessarily a huge hit — it peaked at No. 13, and only went gold — it further cemented the impression that after drifting for the better part of a decade, he had some fire in his belly again. Leadoff single "In the Ghetto" — which Elvis apparently had to be tricked into recording by Moman, who threatened to give it to recently retired football player Rosey Grier — went to No. 3, giving him his biggest hit since "Crying in the Chapel" in 1965.

Ultimately, From Elvis in Memphis proved to be more of a last gasp than a real return to form. He had subsequent hits, including the Memphis castoff "Suspicious Minds," but the rest of the records released during the last decade of his life included a whole bunch of cobbled-together product. He seemed to go back on his vow to give a damn relatively quickly, but this record stands as the last shining example of the type of greatness Presley was capable of when he refused to settle for material he didn't really believe in.

First Impressions: First, credit where credit's due: From Elvis in Memphis was recommended by Friend of Jefitoblog and discarded laundry hamper Dave Lifton, who was openly appalled when I mentioned I'd never listened to an Elvis record. Dave has a lot of flaws, but taste in music is not among them; within moments, he picked this album as the best starting point for me, and he was 100 percent correct. I've spent my life regarding Elvis' musical stylings as at least faintly corny, and that's at least partly the case here, but his tendency toward gilding the lily is largely offset by Moman's soulful production, which brings some deeply necessary grit out of Presley's vocal performances. (It probably didn't hurt that Elvis was also nursing a cold when he arrived in Memphis.)

This is not to say that the album is entirely devoid of syrup. The backing vocals and strings wouldn't be out of place on any random Eddy Arnold record, and Elvis' singing betrays more than a hint of theatricality in spots. But overall, he sounds like he really gave a damn, top to bottom, and there's no arguing with the material; from the opening track, the frankly nasty cuckold's hymn "Wearin' That Loved On Look," the record serves as a reminder of how effectively Presley could perform country blues when given the opportunity. And even with hints of chintz, the whole set is ruthlessly economical; most of these songs clock in at under three minutes. Taken on its own substantial merits, it's more than enough to make you wish Elvis had spent the rest of his career making real albums rather than letting Jarvis mash random live and studio tracks together.

Here is where I admit that the first time I heard "In the Ghetto" was when Cartman sang it on South Park. Less embarrassingly, my first (and, until now, only) experience with "True Love Travels on a Gravel Road" came courtesy of Nick Lowe, who covered it on his stellar 1994 LP The Impossible Bird.

Favorite Song: I wouldn't skip any of the 12 tracks that were originally released as From Elvis in Memphis, but my favorite of the bunch has to be "Power of My Love," which features some tasty harmonica from Ed Kollis and is led by what is, for my money, Elvis' nastiest vocal performance on the record.

(All of the above means I need to thank Dave Lifton for something, which is a revolting development, but there's no true regret where great music is concerned.)