Cold Open

It’s after midnight, on a hot summer night in June 1977.

In a gas station outside Madison, Wisconsin, a 17-year-old clerk named Keith Lowry sits behind the counter, his eyelids drooping. With a deep yawn, Keith stands up, walks to the door… and heads outside to check on the pumps.

The air is resonant with the buzz of cicadas and the distant rumble of traffic on nearby Highway 51. As Keith approaches a gas pump, he notices two figures emerge from the shadows.

Keith recognizes one of the men; a fellow gas station clerk who was recently fired for stealing from the register. Keith doesn't what he's doing here, but he knows it's probably trouble, and tells the ex-clerk: “You better get the hell outta here!”

But before Keith can finish his warning... the thief grabs hold of him, drags him past the pumps into the shadows, and throws him onto the asphalt. As Keith tries to scramble to his feet… leather-booted foot stomps into his stomach, kicking the wind out of him. Keith grits his teeth as his assailants cackle like hyenas and continue kicking him striking him in his back, head, and shoulders.

But then… Keith hears the screech of tires on the road… followed by the sound of a car door opening… then the sharp click of heels on concrete.

The kicks and punches stop. Keith opens one eye. And standing there – his silhouette outlined against the bright lights of the gas station – is a tall, wide-shouldered man. He’s adopted a karate pose, one arm outstretched, the other coiled tightly to his chest. The man’s face is in shadow, but Keith immediately recognizes the Mississippi drawl when the man says: “I’ll take you on.”

The two punks are stunned into silence. The vigilante avenger standing in front of them is the aging King of Rock' n’ Roll himself – Elvis Aaron Presley. The thief and his buddy are star-struck, but also shocked at “The King’s” appearance; sweat glistens on his puffy cheeks, and the zipper of his sequined jumpsuit strains against his bulging belly. Blinking, the punks slowly back away… and run off back into the night.

Elvis chuckles, twisting his face into his trademark sideways grin. Then he looks down at Keith and says: “I guess the fight’s settled then, huh?” Keith climbs to his feet, bruised and a little dazed. He watches with wide eyes as Elvis Presley swaggers back to his limousine, climbs inside… and is driven off into the night.

By 1977, Elvis Presley has hit rock bottom. As his record sales plummeted, his reliance on junk food and drugs increased, leaving Elvis overweight and depressed. Just two months after this altercation in Wisconsin, Elvis will die from a heart attack at the age of 42. But despite his sad ending, Elvis lived an extraordinary life, capturing the hearts of millions, and popularizing a cultural phenomenon called Rock n’ Roll following the recording of his first hit single, “That’s All Right” on July 5th, 1954.

Intro

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is July 5th, 1954: Elvis Presley’s First Single.

Act One: Last Train to Memphis

It’s July 18th, 1953; a year before Elvis records "That's all right". 

On a sunny Saturday morning in Memphis, Tennessee, a woman named Marion Keisker sits behind the reception desk at Sun Records, a recording studio in downtown.

Marion’s boss, Sam Phillips, opened Sun Records three years ago – advertising his business with the slogan: “We Record Anything, Anywhere, Anytime!” Sam’s vision for Sun Records was to provide a place for African American musicians to record their work, and at a time when segregation laws made it hard for Black performers to break through. And in the last three years, Sam has recorded several artists who will go on to have successful careers, including B.B. King, Howlin’ Wolf, and Ike Turner.

But despite the talented acts who’ve come through his doors, Sam is struggling to turn a profit. Many radio stations are still hesitant to play so-called “black music”, fearing it could alienate their white listeners. Many white people are especially suspicious of a new genre pioneered by African American musicians, a toe-tapping hybrid of rhythm, blues, country, and gospel. Certain maverick DJs have started playing these records on the airwaves, and they’ve given the new genre a name: “rock and roll”.          

But by the summer of 1953, rock and roll hasn’t yet taken off. Sam often finds himself driving from town to town, personally promoting his artists to radio stations across the country. It’s exhausting and demoralizing, and if things don’t improve, Sun Records might have to close its doors.

But in the meantime, Marion still has a job at the front desk. Today, she looks up as the front door opens. A teenage boy walks in, guitar case slung over his shoulder. Marion raises her eyebrow. The kid looks about eighteen. He’s dressed in a wide-collared shirt that Marion recognizes from the window display at Lansky’s – a clothing store on Beale Street. His black hair is shiny with pomade, and he has the earnest, god-fearing look of a church boy. Marion sees countless kids like this – youngsters who listen to B.B. King's records on the radio and think they ought to have a crack at recording their own.

So Marion asks the kid what kind of a singer he thinks he is. The boy mulls it over before responding: “I sing all kinds.” But Marion needs him to be more specific, so she asks who he sounds like. The kid replies: “I don’t sound like nobody.”

Nonetheless, Sam Phillips records the kid singing two old standards from the 1930s. His voice is rough around the edges – but he has some raw talent. Sam imprints the songs onto a record and charges the kid four dollars. Before he leaves, Marion asks for the kid’s name, which she writes down alongside Sam’s commentary: “Elvis Presley – good ballad singer.” 

After the recording, Elvis walks back to the two-room apartment he shares with his parents. The 18-year-old slopes into his room and lies down on the bed, staring at the ceiling while plucking his guitar. Elvis graduated high school this summer. Now he’s trying to figure out what to do with his life. Music is his greatest passion. But even though Elvis knows he wants to be a singer, he doesn’t know how to go about it.    

Needing a source of income, Elvis starts working as a truck driver for the Crown Electric company. Then, in June 1954, Elvis hears about the opening for a vocalist in a local band. After auditioning, the band manager turns Elvis with a conciliatory smile and says: “stick to truck-driving, kid. You’re never going to make it as a singer.”

Elvis is devastated. He is forced to face the possibility that he’ll end up driving a truck forever. The prospect is too grim to even contemplate. So he decides to give it one last try.

On July 5th, 1954, Elvis returns to Sun Studios, hoping to record a couple of tracks that might get him noticed. But as midnight approaches, Sam sits inside the control booth, stifling a yawn. They’ve been at it for hours. Elvis can certainly sing a ballad – but he’s nothing Sam hasn’t heard before.

Sam sighs and switches off the recorder and signals at the band. It’s time to call it a night. That’s when Elvis grabs his guitar and launches into a cover of Arthur Crudup’s 1946 song “That’s All Right”.

Hesitantly, the band joins in, matching Elvis’ double-time tempo. Sam glances up. Elvis is singing a familiar song in a wholly unfamiliar way. “That’s All Right” is an old blues ballad. But Elvis has transformed it into something else. It sounds fresh, original, and exciting. Most of all, it sounds profitable. Sam leans in closer and hits Record on the tape deck.

Sam sends out copies of “That’s All Right” to all the local radio stations. Three days later, a popular Memphis DJ plays the track on his show. And within hours, listeners are calling in to enquire about the song and the singer. People don’t know what to make of the music. The intense, driven style is reminiscent of R&B; but delivered in Elvis’ hillbilly drawl; the outcome is something different and new.

Based on the success of the track, Sam offers Elvis a professional contract, and soon, Elvis and his band are booking live shows every night. Before long, Elvis Presley’s unique voice and stage presence will cause a stir, changing the face of American culture, and turning Elvis into a global sensation. 

Act Two: Devil in Disguise

It’s May 1956 in Washington D.C – two years after Elvis recorded “That’s All Right.”

1. Edgar Hoover sits inside his office on Pennsylvania Avenue. The Director of the FBI has just received a letter from a concerned member of the public; a man who recently attended an Elvis Presley concert in Wisconsin. The letter reads: “Presley is a definite danger to the security of the United States… his actions and motions were such as to rouse the sexual passions of teenaged youth.”

Hoover scratches his chin. He’s heard rumors about Elvis Presley, how his provocative style elicits wild hysteria from young audiences. And with the Cold War simmering, the last thing Hoover needs is a musician undermining the moral fabric of American society. Hoover places the letter inside a file and grimaces. He’s going to have to keep a close watch on this Elvis Presley.

***

A few days later, on June 5th, Elvis makes his second appearance on the Milton Berle Show on NBC. Elvis stands backstage in the Hollywood studio, preparing to go on, and he's anxious.

The last two years have been a whirlwind for Elvis. After the runaway success of his first single, “That’s All Right”, he became a household name on radio stations and in music venues all across the South.

It wasn’t long before he was snapped up by a promoter named Colonel Tom Parker. Parker is an overweight, cigar-puffing eccentric – and one of the most ruthless, avaricious promoters in the industry. He convinced Elvis to leave Sun Records, and instead sign with RCA Victor – one of the country’s biggest labels.

Largely due to Colonel Parker’s money-making instincts, Elvis has become the best-known entertainer in America, with regular television appearances, flashy movie contracts, and lucrative merchandise deals. 

With Parker's help, Elvis has mainstreamed rock n’ roll. His music is beloved by young people, partly because it transcends the segregated nature of popular music at the time. By fusing country music and R&B, Elvis has created a sound that is described at the time as “neither black nor white”, commercializing a style that attracts a broad, integrated audience. But as Elvis’ stardom grows, so do the murmurs of disapproval. Many older people are concerned by the hysteria his music provokes, and by the racially diverse nature of his audiences. A gulf is opening up between the generations, and that gulf is about to get even wider with Elvis’ appearance on the Milton Berle Show.

Milton sidles up to Elvis in the gloomy wing. The host tells him to leave his guitar backstage, saying: “Let ‘em see you, son.” So Elvis goes onstage without a guitar and sings his new hit, “Hound Dog”, grinding and gyrating his hips to the music.

The audience goes into a frenzy. But to many watching at home, the suggestive pelvic thrusts are evidence of Elvis’ moral delinquency. One New York Times review echoes the view of the older generation – arguing that: “Mr. Presley has no discernible singing ability… his one specialty is an accented movement of the body.” Elsewhere, critics claim that “music has reached its lowest depths” and that Elvis exhibits “the kind of animalism that should be confined to dives and bordellos.”

But despite the negative criticism, Elvis’ appearance on the Milton Berle Show is a hit. NBC captures such incredibly high ratings, the other networks scramble to be the next to book him. So in September, Elvis appears on the Ed Sullivan Show on CBS. Sullivan himself doesn’t host the show that night, as he’s recovering from a car accident. But when he reviews the footage, even he’s shocked by Elvis’ provocative dancing. He chides his editors and reminds them that his show is a family show. The editors get to work altering the footage. And when the episode airs, Elvis is only pictured from the waist up. Still, the episode is watched by over sixty million viewers – a record at the time.

Over the course of the next twelve months, Elvis continues performing live shows to increasingly fevered audiences. He only has to walk on stage and smile for the crowd to start screaming, reaching out to touch him. Elvis has ignited a pop culture craze unprecedented in its energy and magnitude. But the Elvis phenomenon is about to hit an unexpected roadblock.

In 1958, Elvis is suddenly drafted into the United States Army. He is stationed in West Germany and serves for two years, before returning to the U.S. in March 1960. And although his celebrity status hasn’t changed, Elvis himself has. His mother died when he was in basic training, depriving Elvis of his most constant source of guidance and support. But other things changed Elvis too. Elvis swaps his iconic pompadour for a G.I. buzzcut, and to cope with the tragedy of losing his mother and the stress of military service, Elvis develops a new-found dependency on drugs, especially amphetamines.

Throughout the 1960s, while his drug habit escalates, Elvis’ career takes a downturn. Driven by his manager, Colonel Tom Parker, Elvis tries trading the grind of live performance for the glamor of movies but ends up starring in a series of critically derided Hollywood films. By the end of the decade, Elvis has become a recluse and often, a laughingstock. But in 1969, as he teeters on the brink of irrelevance, Elvis will book a comeback show in Las Vegas; a make-or-break performance that will prove whether the King of Rock n’ Roll is really dead… or if he’s been resurrected.

Act Three: It’s Now or Never

It’s July 31st, 1969 – fifteen years after Elvis recorded his first hit single.

In a massive amphitheater inside the International Hotel in Las Vegas, Elvis Presley nervously paces backstage, his forehead glistening with sweat. He glances through the curtain at the packed auditorium. Thousands of people have come to see Elvis’ comeback show, the first time he’s played live in almost a decade. Elvis takes a deep breath and tries to steady his nerves.

The sixties have been a difficult time for Elvis. His acting career failed to launch, and his records have been performing poorly in the charts. As the years went by, people became less and less interested in Elvis’ music – which still sounded like the 1950s. Instead, they turned to the fashionable new bands of the day, like the Beach Boys and the Beatles. The world of Rock n’ Roll moves fast these days, and Elvis has been left behind.

But soon, the announcer in the auditorium is calling his name. Elvis mops his brow, then forces his trademark smile onto his face and strides out into the blinding lights. The roar from the audience is deafening. A few people notice Elvis’ changed appearance. He’s nothing like the twinkly-eyed 21-year-old who swung his hips on the Ed Sullivan Show. At thirty-four, Elvis has gained weight and lost some of that boyish confidence. When he grabs hold of the microphone, his hand trembles. 

But as soon as Elvis launches into “Blue Suede Shoes”, the years and the pounds and the drugs fall away. The audience goes wild. His confidence restored by the emphatic reception, Elvis sings all the classics: “Hound Dog”, “Heartbreak Hotel”. He almost brings the house with a not-yet-released ballad called “Suspicious Minds.” And by the time the performance ends, Elvis is drenched in sweat and the audience is on its feet. He drinks in the thunderous applause.

Over the next seven years, Elvis will play more than 600 shows in Las Vegas – selling out every single one. And as the 1970s dawns, Elvis’ act will change. He will become more family-friendly, and focus on slower ballads and gospel music. But despite his resurgence, Elvis remains on a downward trajectory. Still addicted to drugs, his health will steadily decline, until he is killed by a heart attack in August 1977, at the age of forty-two. Still, even today; Elvis is remembered as a Rock n’ Roll legend who changed the course of American culture, a pioneer and an icon, whose extraordinary career was kicked off by his first single recorded on this day, July 5th, 1954.

Outro

Next on History Daily. July 6th, 1699. Captain William Kidd, one of the most infamous Pirates in history, is arrested in Boston sparking rumors of buried treasure.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Mollie Baack.

Sound design by Mischa Stanton.

Music by Lindsay Graham.

This episode is written and researched by Joe Viner.

Executive Producers are Steven Walters for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.