Today marks the day The King died, thirty-five years ago. I'm just a casual fan at best; I know most of the hits, I know some of the lesser-known stuff, I know that he didn't write a single song in his life. Back in '04, I saw him onstage...he was on the big screen, backed by his own touring band which played live. It was surprisingly well-done. I've always had a curious fascination with the man since then, and his larger-than-life sort of disposition, and the whole myth thing he created. I'm almost finishing up this critically acclaimed biography (Part 1) called Last Train To Memphis, by Peter Garulnick. It's widely regarded as the greatest book ever written about Elvis' life. So yeah, highly recommended for those out there who's even mildly interested in Elvis. The late, great Lester Bangs wrote a brilliant obituary [link] in August '77. Damn, I wished he (Lester) were still alive; rock criticism could sure use someone like him right now.
