I’ve been putting this off for a while actually, and when I realized that this is the 30th anniversary of Elvis Presley’s death, it would be appropriate to stop the procrastination station and get down to business. Now as Uma Thurman says in a deleted scene from Pulp Fiction, you’re either an Elvis man or a Beatles man. I am definitely the latter. The Beatles were the first in a line of many things I would become obsessed about….actually dinosaurs were probably the first in that line but Beatles were close behind. Once the British Invasion took hold of a seven year old Craig, there was no going back.

And so I always looked down on Elvis, he was more like the punchline to a plethora of jokes than a real person. Remember, I’m a little kid when Full House is on the air, so they‘ve got John Stamos every week talking about Elvis and the friggin Beach Boys. Plus you’ve got the whole fact that the man was popularizing black music for a white audience, and he wasn’t even listening to or appreciating said music. Elvis was strictly listening to the gospel and the country. Sorry Muddy Waters, you too Chuck Berry. What was it that you said Public Enemy? Ah yes:

“Elvis was a hero to most
But he never meant shit to me you see
Straight up racist that sucker was
Simple and plain
Motherfuck him and John Wayne”

Well put Flav, well put. You’re killin em Chuck.

Well maybe I’ve grown soft as time has passed, but I’ve grown to find an appreciation for Elvis…specifically Old Fat Elvis. Maybe it was Bruce Campbell’s stunning performance in Bubba Ho-Tep. Maybe it was my newfound appreciation for deep fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches. Like Uma, I will often ask new people my own question. “Which do you prefer, Thin Elvis or Fat Elvis?” 

The thing that gets me is, Young Elvis could do it all so easily. You see clips of him in Jailhouse Rock, and he’s singing and dancing without breaking a sweat. He’s Superman and we all know the problem with Superman. He’s boring. I want to see a bit of the human condition, even in my rock music.

That’s what Fat Elvis embodies, the human condition. By 1968 he’s past his prime, it’s not as easy for him to run around that stage singing those songs. His jumpsuit is clinging to his bulging body (and it’s all bulging, not just his crotch). You watch footage of him performing in that last decade of his life and you can see him thinking “Whoa there, this is some hard work.” And in those glimpses, you see that Elvis is a human being. Add that to the fact that by this time his throne has been taken by bands like the Beatles, The Stones, The Who. Bands which grew up appreciating rock music, white and black, which Mr. Presley chose to disregard in his youth.

Speaking of the music. Suspicious Minds (1969) and Burning Love (1972) are friggin terrific, and in a strangely unintentional but personally logical move on my part, those are the only two Elvis songs that I ever listen to.

Even though I only like him for that downward spiral part of his career, I understand the guy’s importance to the whole American culture spectrum. And even if I didn’t understand it, I would still like Bubba Ho-Tep perfectly fine.