The snow is melting away, the days are getting warmer, and the sun is more intense. Spring isn't here yet, but winter is in its dying throes. I've been old school this weekend and listening to the great one himself, mister Elvis Presley.
Sure, you don't like Elvis. That's lame old person music, and Elvis was a phony that made watered down white bread versions of great black music and sold it to white audiences with a wink and an awe shucks smile. Well that might be true but fuck it - these are great songs anyways. That old Sun Records stuff has the same sort of magic as the old Johnny Cash material from Sun Records.
An atmosphere that can't be recreated. Like a window into a past world that can only haunt you.
Boom chicka boom.
So there it is. It is old and raw. Not exactly black metal or anything, but it doesn't sound like the stuff sweaty teenage girls are getting wet to these days. Also, if you ever wondered why all old punks end up Rockabilly at some point I can sum it up with one video.
From the '68 comeback special
Dyed black hair, black leather jacket, black leather wristband, black leather pants...and grandpa guitar. Back before there were any punks and at the same time that all the kids were dressing like mod douchebags right before everyone went hippie. If you were a punk and had to be like anyone from 1968 I think Elvis is your only choice.
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I liked Elvis a lot more once I found out his was all fucked up on prescription meds.
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