Presley Memories Stronger Than Reality
by Robert P. Laurence
Nevada State Journal
November 26, 1976
When Elvis Presley bounced up onstage Wednesday night amid a blinding blaze of popping flashbulbs, a sold-out Centennial Coliseum shook with screams and cheers.
But about 70 minutes later, as -"The King" was wisked off the stage to the closing strains of "I Can't Help Falling in Love with You," the din of shuffling feet heading for the exits rivaled the applause of the Elvis fans who were still in their seats.
For the true Elvis followers - and there were many at the Thanksgiving Eve show in Reno - nothing mattered. They had made their pilgrimage, they had seen their idol. But the star's sometimes thinvoiced replicas of his hits - and then usually jammed into medleys or abbreviated versions - might have left the curious first-time watchers of the real, live Elvis wondering what all the commotion was about. It left this writer, at least, wanting more fire, but getting only smoke.
Perhaps it was the commercial, carnival machine surrounding the aura of the rock 'n' roll star who, at age 41, can deserve to slow down the pace and bask in the worship of millions of followers. The man's magic - with a little slick sales savvy - was nicely distilled into buttons, photo albums, programs, $8 posters and mini-binoculars hawked by roving vendors and at "Elvis Super-Souvenir" concession stands.
The audience - a milling mosaic of old and young, denim grubby and chiffon chic - appreciated Elvis with the standard shrieks, screams and cheers. But the reaction was mechanical, with polite roars as songs opened and closed, and dead silence in between.
Perhaps they were too busy munching their foot-long hot dogs and spilling their ice-filled soft drink cups. The whole scene seemed suited more to football or basketball, not a music concert.
Ahhhh - but this is Elvis. And Elvis - like baseball, hot dogs and apple pie - is all-American. What better way to celebrate him than with the commercial trappings of all-American hucksterism?
If Elvis is 41 years old, his voice doesn't reflect it. When he wants to be strong, he's dynamite. But when he slacks off - as he did on such potential show-stoppers as "Hound Dog," "All Shook Up" and "Johnny B. Goode" - the result is thin and muddled. With a bit more effort he could have turned those songs - all mercilessly shortened for his stage show - into grabbers.
He did grab tightly with a full-voiced burst of the good old Elvis in "Hurt" - his new release of an old hit tailor-made to the love-ballad mold that is his latter-day staple.
Presley also put pelvis-pepping pizazz into his slithery rendition of "Fever." The squeals of delight from moms and daughters were never more frenzied.
True to the evening's Thanksgiving-Bicentennial-Americana aura.
Presley drew sustained applause for the stirring, patriotic way he sang "America the Beautiful." The martial drum beat, the fluttering chorus and the burning horns undoubtedly escorted many a heart up the listener's throat.
Dressed in his gilt-edged white jumpsuit, with an embroidered, open V-neck cut to his belt, Elvis didn't show the fat or paunch that past rumor said he carried. But his selection of songs reflected the inevitable slowdown that has come about after a more than 20-year career at the top. The fast and furious longs were short. The gentle, warbling love ballads were drawn out. At one point, Elvis took a breather while one vocalist from his entourage of singers and players gave two thoughtful but out-of-place interpretations of "Danny Boy" and "Walk With Me."
Elvis played with his audience skillfully to keep the interest up. Just 15 minutes into his act, he was mopping his brow with pastel scarves and slipping them to the dozens of outstretched, begging hands which clutched at him from below the stage. As each scarf disappeared into the clawing mob, Elvis' water-and-scarves man Charlie Hodge would wrap another of the dozens of trademark tokens around the star's neck.
Elvis' banter with the lively audience above and behind the stage was proof of the magical spell he continues to hold over audiences. He answered the shouts of "Turn around! Turn around!" with sly peeks and quick spins. They returned the favor with more blinding flashbulbs.
The musicians behind Presley were solid, although they had to overcome some tinny sound system quirks in the early going. The usual array of rhinestone-studded guitarists, keyboard men and drummer was ably complemented by the brass of the Hot Hilton Horns, the Las Vegas Hilton's house band.
As for the three opening acts, brevity was the only redeeming social value. In successive 15-minute sets, two singing groups and a Canadian comedian warmed up the audience for Elvis. Jack Kahane, the comedian, shouldn't have gotten through customs. His insipid, stale jokes about married life and the generation gap were only by his even worse Elvis jokes ("It's a thrill to be here in Reno and have Elvis on my show.")
J. V. Sumner and the Stamps opened the show with the billing of "one of the top Gospel quartets in the business." Their music was about as Gospel as a dime-store novel. And the third act - longtime Elvis backups the Sweet Inspirations - was hot on the full-voiced soul numbers, but hopelessly thin and flat in an attempt at a breathless ballad.
The needlessly long half-hour intermission before Presley came onstage seemed more exciting than the openers, what with the frequent announcements that "You still have time to get those great, Elvis supersouvenirs at the concession stands."
Courtesy of Francesc Lopez
The Magical Magnet Of Elvis Still Exists
by Bill Steinauen
Reno Evening Gazzette
November 25, 1976
A weird, strange world, this world of Elvis Presley. Twenty years have passed since the rockin', hip-swinging legend first hit the national scene, making a gigantic impact on the music industry. twenty years can have a way of doing to a lot of people. Bus as demonstrated Wednesday night at the Centennial Coliseum, those years haven't done a whole lot to harm Elvis.
Say what you want about Presley ... and if you choose less than glowing terms. I'll probably join you. The guy's never been my favorite (far from it, as a matter of fact) and I've never understood the magic he undeniably permeates.
But, as a reporter, I must report that the magic - or whatever it is that exists between Presley and his hordes of fans - still exists.
Even after listening to Presley a million times via records, movies and concerts, a Presley concert is still An Event. It sure has the aura of, say, a heavyweight fight.
Thanksgiving Eve in Reno. Buses, some of which have made their way from Canada, are lined up outside the coliseum. The signs reveal the passengers' thoughts and motive for the trip. "We Love You Elvis," a sign reads. Others show title of many of Presley's hits.
Elvis Presley concerts are as slick as the many movies in which he starred. It has the earmarks of a carnival.
When you go to a Presley concert, you just don't go to listen to music. Heck no. Mini-binoculars are on sale for five bucks, an Elvis poster for eight, programs complete with color photos of the superstar for three.
"Getcha souvenirs," the announcer-barker barks. Many did.
And the crowd ... what a trip. Oldsters, youngsters, the works among the sellout audience of 7,500. Women in formals, others in bluejeans. Normally, a singer - it's fair to say - appeals to one general age group or generation. It's also fair to say that you just can't say that about Presley.
What can you say about Presley? first of all, the crowd - after securing their footlongs, binoculars and souvenirs - saw a Presley whose voice hasn't suffered over the years and a Presley who didn't appear as chubby as reported in recent years. (Those two facts seem to concern many a Presley fan.)
Following 45 minutes of opening acts (J.V Sumner and the Stamps Quartet, comedian Jackie Kahane and the Sweet Inspirations), Presley began his hour and 10 minutes of stage with rock 'n' roll oldies "C.C. Ryder" and "I Gotta Woman"
Every hip movement resulted in shrills from the audience. Every time Presley turned around and look to the people behind him, numerous flashbulbs flickered in unison.
Shifting from old to new tunes, from ones he made famous to others, Presley continued his slick rapport with the audience. The audience, of course, loved it.
With Presley is an entourage which is so large that it includes one man, Charlie Hodge, whose primary duties are giving Presley glasses of water and draping scarves around PResley's neck so the singer can, in turn, hand them out to screaming fans.
Elvis does a lot of tunes, but they all seem shortened from original length - "Treat Me Like A Fool," "Fairytale," "Jailhouse Rock," "And I Love Her So," "All Shook Up," "Teddy Bear," "Fever"
Presley best displayed his range and strength of voice in "Hurt," a current release. But the songs receiving the most audience reaction were - as should be expected - the oldies. And he ended the night with three biggies: "You Ain't Nothing But a Hound Dog," "Hawaiian Wedding Song," and "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You".
During the final song, bodyguards had to keep female fans from climbing the stage. Presley had to take off his rings because the fans were pulling on his hands. Magic, I guess. Anyway, just like that, he was rushed off the stage and the p.a. announcer announced, "Elvis Presley is now out of the building. But you can still get those souvenirs."
So the show? A success, I guess. The sound system was very raspy at first, but improvements were made. The stage was too small and the audience provided more distractions than an audience would have at a casino showroom.
The opening acts were satisfactory. What can you tell in 15 minutes anyway? The group sang rhythm and blues and spiritual numbers and proved better than comic Kahane who did the usual numbers about stereotyped teen-agers and stereotyped wives.
Courtesy of Francesc Lopez
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