The Film Elvis: That's the Way It Is Shows Elvis at the Start of his Vegas Period; The Figgs?ro;”But is it Power Pop?; REO Speedwagon and Electric Light Orchestra, Reissued
Elvis: That's the Way It Is (TCM)
The original 1970 version of Elvis: That's the Way It Is was a by-the-numbers, Colonel-controlled p.r. vehicle. Most likely, knowing the Colonel, the film was intended to unveil the then-still-new Las Vegas incarnation of Elvis to the fans around the country, as the Colonel geared up the King's machinery for the coming years of near-constant touring. When Elvis made his '68 comeback, the Colonel may have lost a movie star, but he gained a faithful and, until the last years, indefatigable stage trouper. The 1970 That's the Way It Is was a carefully edited puff piece showing that trouper at work in Vegas, wowing celebrity-crammed audiences with his new stage act.
In an era of far bolder concert films like Gimme Shelter and Woodstock, That's the Way It Is looked every bit the tame corporate product it was. Only in later years would it find its place in history as a unique document showing Elvis at the very start of his Vegas period, on the cusp of his full, jumpsuited 70s Kingship. Later concert films like Elvis on Tour (1972) and Aloha from Hawaii ('73) would document the apotheosis of this King, with the rings, the cape, the scarves, the Shaka sign, the growing paunch, the "My Way" and "American Trilogy" and "What Now My Love"?what we later came to recognize as the full Elvoid religious rite. That's the Way It Is showed a slightly younger, fresher Elvis just beginning to build that stage monument.
Turner Classic Movies has thrown $1 million into completely remixing and reediting Elvis: That's the Way It Is, adding a huge amount of newly found footage (they say 40 percent of it is new). The result really is a new film?the version of That's the Way It Is we should've had all along. It's premiering on the TCM channel Mon., Jan. 15, and going on sale in VHS the next day and DVD on March 6. By far the best part of this new version is a long preamble showing Elvis in rehearsal with his crack Vegas band and the full complement of Memphis mafia sycophants. It's some of the most relaxed, candid Elvis footage I've ever seen. Scenes of him jamming on Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel tunes suggest a hipper, more with-it Elvis, at least in 1970, than the druggy recluse of the stereotypes. He's also revealed as an accomplished band leader, ably molding his show.
There's lots of new concert footage to remind us what a stellar stage performer Elvis had become again at the turn of the 70s, nothing like the bloated basket case of his final years. Most memorable: During an extended version of "Love Me Tender," the King goes out among his people, wandering through the crowd, kissing all the ladies, shaking all the men's hands, his white jumpsuit gleaming in the follow-spot. It was a part of his act he quickly abandoned, for obvious security reasons (plus some paranoia on his part), and it aptly sums up everything we think of as the King at his peak?part showbiz cornball, all pop-culture deity.
Joe S. Harrington
This New York band may be the best in the country. There's a reason for that, and it should be simple, but it's not. It eludes most bands, which is why the Figgs' grit-ridden formula stands out so emphatically. It is a "formula," after all?they're stylists, and they know what they're doing. It's no accident they sound a little like late-70s Brit pub-rock. Not so much the straight pubbers like Dr. Feelgood or Duck Deluxe, but the more punkoid ones like early Elvoid, Graham Parker, Wreckless Eric and Ian Dury. You know, the Stiff brigade. The Figgs have actually played the role of a de-facto Rumour backing up Parker during a tour in '97, so they're definitely roots-conscious.
On the basis of Sucking in Stereo, one might be tempted to call them "power pop"?they really have a tuneful Beatles quality. But they're unique in their affectations in that they don't merely settle for Cheap Trick or Badfinger but go all the way with songs evoking the Invasion of One-Named Bands circa 1979: the Knack, the Pop, the As, the Beat, the Shoes, the Plimsouls... Speaking of the Knack, that might be the album Sucking in Stereo reminds me of the most, Get the Knack. Like the real Knack, the Figgs were even signed to Capitol for a while, but they got dumped, which means Capitol missed out on a golden opportunity to repeat history for a third time (the Knack being just a copy of the Beatles).
In the continuing saga of the Figgs, they ended up back in indie-ville after their major label stint/fiasco. Earlier last year, they released For EP Fans Only, a seven-song shorty that only hinted at their obsession with late-70s shorthair-rock (in songs like "Excuse the Lame Excuse" the Costello-isms were apparent). It also contained one of the great songs of the new millennium in "Please, One More Time." Only Scott Miller of the Loud Family is writing stuff with more precision. This is the song J Mascis never wrote, or should have written after "Freak Scene." If it could ever get on the radio, it could be a hit in the same land that embraced stuff like Blues Traveler.
Rest of the EP showed a lot of promise too; more Mascis, but also some falling-down Replacements brashness (mainly "I Thought I Drank the Drink but the Drink Drank Me"). But they finally make good on that promise on Sucking in Stereo, and its gun-humping fury is a joy to hear. When was the last time you heard a rock 'n' roll album that rocked so thoroughly from one song to the next until the whole goddamn thing sounded like an epiphany? Well here it is. "Opening Night" is the classic rock 'n' roll road song, a distant cousin to the Who's "Postcard," right down to the very subtle backing vocals in the second verse. It's nice little embellishments like these that the Figgs never forget (assuring you'll never forget them either). Next song, "The Daylight Strong," is pure '79 new-wave power pop with traffic-jam rhythms and a buoyancy that could only come from men in skinny ties. "Reaction" is the Graham Parker song that never was. The guitars on this song, and on this album in general, really cut deep, and there's a clarity here that enables one to hear every little drumbeat (excellent production). "Something's Wrong" is pure McCartney?he invented this kind of bass-heavy riff (think "Lady Madonna," "Paperback Writer," "Jet") and should be given his just due. "Racing Around" is more yob-rock with some cawing about "you don't understand what it takes to be a man." These guys are unabashedly boyish, in an age where cock-cutting femmes and their adjutant micro-male apologists have made that some kind of sin. Sucking in Stereo reeks of beer and boys' night out glory.
"Gonna Get Out" is probably the most expendable track here, but it's still all right; more McCartney, with shimmering new-wave organ, or a Joe Jackson outtake with even a weird tint of 10cc in the chorus. McCartney comes back in full force in "Running in Place," but there's a rubbery road-ready quality to this song that's infectious as hell. "Dance Lesson" is just pure 1978 everything-sucks-so-why-not-get-drunk-and-dance catharsis. File this one under "Romeo was restless, he was ready to kill." And "Do the Bounce" is the token dance track that all late-70s punk-pub-new-wave bands had to do ("Cretin Hop," "Do the Boob," etc.).
Oh yeah, I forgot: these guys ain't actually a 70s new wave band! Almost as though to remind us, there's the closer "Cheap Cassettes." Written by drummer Pete Hayes, it seems to be a tribute of some kind to whoever turned him on to Motörhead via cheap cassette in the back of a van in the 80s. It's a fitting reminder that we're entering an age where some wised-up chimps don't even know what a cassette is. The Figgs remember, and that memory resonates with the profundity of the ages.
Tanya Richardson
I've enjoyed many of the Epic reissues, like George Jones' I Am What I Am, that have hit the market recently via its Legacy arm. They were great albums that deserved introduction to a new generation. So when Reo Speedwagon's Hi Infidelity and You Can Tune a Piano, But You Can't Tune a Fish came across my desk, I was able to get past the title of the latter and give 'em a spin. If I ever marry I plan to jump onstage, knock the Rolling Stones cover band I've hired aside and belt the chorus to "Keep On Loving You" off Hi Infidelity?"When I said that I love you I meant/That I love you forever."
And as I've been thinking hard about true love lately (who hasn't, with the whole Buffy/Riley/Spike triangle), I was in the mood for You Can't Tuna's "Time for Me to Fly," which, with "I make you laugh/And you make me cry," offers one of the most simply poignant breakup lines since "Now Your Messin' with a Son of a Bitch." If REO had love sorted out, I reasoned, they must have all kinds of other important things to say, right? I mean lovers are always fascinating, right?
Barring a b-side hit on either album there's not much here, excluding a few throwaway tracks that would only interest the most depraved, overindulgent of record geeks, outside of the above-mentioned songs (which, for the most depraved and overindulged of record geeks, are both the second tracks on their respective records).
Same goes for box sets by bands like ELO and Deep Purple. Pick up a greatest-hits comp by all means. If you're not a communist, you already attended some kind of organized sporting event in your life and heard "Don't Bring Me Down." However, if you're part of the generation that turned Woodstock into a gang rape, you may not remember ELO's more indicative ballads, like "Telephone Line," and their calming, more ethereal tones might do you good. But for God's sake, don't enable this 53-song box set that must be filled with at least one reggae version of "Evil Woman," although I can't swear to it, because who will ever get all the way through the damn thing to prove it? But Flashback does answer the seminal questions, "Is the spaceship on the cover the official ELO spaceship?" and "Was Jeff Lynne really the first rocker who had the balls to 'go baroque'?"
In conclusion, you probably don't need any of these CDs unless you're either related to a musician involved, or, again, the most depraved, overindulged of record geeks, in which case you should take a long, hard look at your life. That's what I'm about to do for even opening them.