It had been just shy of five years since Elvis Presley last topped the Canadian charts but a great deal had changed during this time. The rush of Beatlemania was still very much a going concern, the United States was still reeling from the assassination of President John F. Kennedy a year earlier and the Americans were still a distant second to the hated Soviets in the space race. By the latter part of 1969, however, the Fab Four were all but done as a recording unit, guns deaths among influential individuals in the States had become an all-too common occurrence and NASA sent Apollo 11 to the Moon. Meanwhile, Elvis Presley went from being famous for being in some mighty stupid movies and a wildly erratic song catalog to someone who had become famous for being famous and who, well, had an even more wildly erratic song catalog.
The narrative that typically surrounds The King's famed 1969 Comeback Special is how tranformative it was for him - although only temporarily, as it would turn out. Elvis lost weight, looked like the sex god he had always meant to be and, crucially, was finally performing some first rate material after years in the creative doldrums. Yet, things aren't nearly as simple as all that. For one thing, RPM Top 10 "U.S. Male" from the early part of '68 suggests that he hadn't completely lost his way (a powerhouse version of Jimmy Reed's "Big Boss Man" dates from the same session which only emphasizes how much he still had it — at least some of the time). On the other hand, the 1969 post-Comeback global smash "In the Ghetto" was then followed by the uninspired "Clean Up Your Own Backyard" from one of those dismal B movies that were supposed to have been wiped clean by his return as a rock 'n' roll rebel. The only thing consistent about Elvis was how damn inconsistent he was.
The good thing about yo-yoing is that there's the opportunity to bounce back and Elvis did so and then some with "Suspicious Minds". Again, it's tempting to put this all down to the Comeback Special as well as the early '69 sessions that resulted in the finest album of his career, the remarkable From Elvis in Memphis. Yet, a renewed Elvis was still going to Elvis about as evidenced on the Back in Memphis half of that autumn's From Memphis to Vegas / From Vegas to Memphis release. A part live, part studio creation, it far more accurately predicts the remaining years of Elvis' life than its far superior predecessor: The King bouncing from his Graceland home to the Las Vegas strip while quality control once again began to unravel. While not a bad work, it pales next to From Elvis in Memphis' sustained coming together of rock, soul, gospel and country.
Mercifully left off either of Elvis' 1969 album releases, "Suspicious Minds" was allowed to take on a life of its own. "In the Ghetto" proved to be a solemn conclusion to From Elvis in Memphis but I've never been convinced by it as a single. No, there was only one song from this key year that needed to come out on its own and it was "Suspicious Minds", arguably the sturdiest 45 of his career. Fans of modern pop who had associated Elvis more with his shitty movies now had a tune of his that they could fully appreciate. With fifties' revivalism gaining steam over the course of the year (John Lennon and a makeshift Plastic Ono Band performed only a month earlier at the Toronto Rock 'n' Roll Revival Festival), it would have been seen as perfectly natural to have him right back with his old backing band and the Jordinaires but there's little of the '56 rebel present. Instead, he's accompanied by Memphis studio aces and is singing like a man in his mid-thirties.
As Tom Breihan astutely observes, Elvis chose not to read paranoia into a song about unfaithful partners. Rather, his celebratory tone suggests that he's been getting up to no good, they're both aware of this and that he's in no position to change his destructive habits. ("He's not caught in a trap at all," Breihan notes — and even if he is, he plainly doesn't give a shit anyway) For someone who never could keep to his marriage vows, this certainly tracks. (When people say they hate Elvis because he didn't write his own songs they seem to be unaware of The King's uncanny ability to take someone else's lyrics and apply them directly to himself, at least when the material he was working with inspired him enough to do so)
Considering his background in fifties' pop brevity, it's unusual to hear an Elvis song that goes on for so damn long. At around the two-and-a-half minute mark it feels like it's going to come to a close but then it keeps building with backing singers and strings filling in the gaps. Another sixty seconds and then it begins to fade only for everything to come roaring back, as if the Memphis producers and engineers had a last second change of heart on when to close out the session. While Brian Wilson may have done fade outs for effect, this sounds like a mistake being righted in real time. A two to three minute "Suspicious Minds" would have been fine but letting it go on allows the listener to luxuriate in Elvis' glory. "We could leave 'em wanting more or, fuck it, how about we just give 'em more?"
No longer serving up pablum to accompany terrible movies, nor particularly interested in market trends, Elvis was at long last able simply to be Elvis. He had excellent songs to choose from and a peerless group of musicians at his beck and call. The Vegas residency had begun but he seemed to take much of what he'd acquired back home in Memphis with him. Yet, the momentum following his Comeback Special was gone and even at his best his output was all over the place. (His version of "Hey Jude" from around this time is appalling) Elvis could rise to incredible heights but the inevitable falls from grace were just as dramatic. And if you thought that nearly five years without a number one hit had been a long time then get ready for a bit of a wait until we encounter him again. If only someone had demanded a little more action from him following his extraordinary Comeback.
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