Worshiping at the Altar of His Kingdom

     OK, I've been sick all week since my last run so I've been idle and probably will be for at least another day or two so this is as good a time as any to dig into the archives and recycle an old piece.  Wrote this a couple and a half years ago and follows up on the Elvis Costello post from the other day:

     Well, here we are--about two weeks removed from my attendance at a private performance by Sir Elvis Costello.  I've been asked by several folks how it was and even been asked by a few to write a review.  Quite frankly, it was so intense and awe-inspiring that I've needed the two weeks to decompress to this point where I might now be able to write something coherent about it.  I don't think we'll end up calling it a review--maybe just more like an account of the events of the evening.

     

     First, let me say that for a hard-working family man like me most things in my life are far more important than going to see some rich guy who merrily sings his way around the world.   So when an offer popped up on Facebook to enter to win a chance to see Elvis perform I gave it some serious thought before even entering the contest.  Anyone who knows me well knows that I'm a big fan of this rock 'n roll legend.  I have been for over 30 years--probably since I was a freshman in high school.  So this was a big deal for me.  It's not everyday that I find myself up close and personal with an international superstar. ( I know, I know, some of you on my Facebook roster are celebrities and a few are former child stars who are used to hob-knobbing with the rich and famous but I'm not.)   I think the most intriguing thing about the contest was that it was billed as a "secret performance."    So, what the hell, I entered the contest.  Now, these guys didn't waste any time.  Less than two days later I received an e-mail telling me that I won an invitation and that I needed to reply within 24 hours to have my name placed on the guest list "plus one" if I so desired.  No tickets, mind you--just a guest list with no assigned seating--first-come, first-served, as it were.   I replied immediately then invited my lovely wife to attend with me.  Maryann is not a fan, per se, of Elvis (despite my incessant declarations of his excellence over our 22 years of marriage).  Going into this she probably could have named just two of his songs which, if the reader cared to give it much thought, should be somewhat obvious.

     Anyway, the secret performance was to be held less than a week later at the New York City public library in the Celeste Bartos Forum.  So already, we're getting a feel that this will be a cozy venue with a small capacity.  The next decision for me was whether to drive into Manhattan or take the train.  I opted for the drive because I had to work the next day and wouldn't be able to sit around in Grand Central after the show waiting for a train.  The next decision for Maryann, of course, was what to wear.  Dress code was "smart casual" but I don't get why they bothered to add that caveat because as it turned out a number of folks were admitted wearing ripped jeans, hoodies, and sneakers.  Most, however, did afford proper respect to The King and the venue with regard to their attire.

     Next thing you know, we're driving into the city.  Parked somewhere around 44th and 3rd and walked the few blocks to the library.  I should probably mention at some point that the purpose of this performance was that it was part of the kick-off of his publicity tour for his newest album titled National Ransom and it was being filmed for a PBS show called "The Artists Den."  The show is currently in its second season and Elvis was being filmed for season three to be televised some time next year.  Since this was not a ticketed event, a line formed just outside the side door of the library and stretched down along the north wall.  We were 5th and 6th in line so I had visions of front row seating but this would turn out not to be the case--more on that later.

     A few interesting things happened while we were waiting out in the cold.  First, the film crew came out and filmed us standing in line.  Shortly after that the event photographer came out, took a couple of pictures of the building, then set up his tripod about five feet in front of Maryann and me (we were embracing in the cold) and took a slew of pictures of just us.  Before he started shooting--and I'm not making this up--he politely asked the ugly guy next to me to move out of the shot and told us to look into the distance and to keep talking to each other and smiling.  Talking, laughing, and smiling on cue for five minutes might be easy for an actor but it was particularly difficult for us to maintain while still looking natural.  So it'll be interesting to see if those pictures turn up anywhere.

     At one point this lady came up to us near the front of the line and asked if we were waiting to see the children's show.  I said, "No.  We're here to see the king."  With a puzzled look she asked me what king.  I said, "Michael's dead.  There's only one king now."  She just stared at me and didn't know what to say.  So I said, "We're here to see Elvis."  Now she didn't know whether to shit or go blind so she looked to the guy next to Maryann and asked him if I was serious.  He just nodded and said, "Yep.  Elvis is here tonight."    She just gave a disgusted look at both of us and stormed off.

     Then later, right before the doors opened another lady approached the uniformed library doorman who knew that he looked, sounded, and acted like Robert De Niro and asked him what everyone was waiting for.  At first he said he couldn't tell her, then he told her it was a secret, then as she kept pressing him he told her it was a special secret performance and if she had been invited she would know who was performing but he couldn't tell her.  She was incredulous.  And she just kept pressing and pressing until he finally told her to get off his stairs and to move along.  This lady oddly believed she was entitled to know the details of what obviously was none of her business.  She reminded me of a woman I worked with back when--oh, never mind.    

      Finally, the doors opened and, after getting checked off on the guest list, we rushed inside.  There were about 200 chairs set up on the flat floor and unfortunately about 100 of them had signs on them that said, "Reserved:  Alice White."  Ah--just what I was afraid of--VIP seating.  I could understand that but what was most puzzling was that there were 100 people in New York named Alice White and that they were all expected at this particular performance.  So we got the best seats available since we were among the first ones inside.  We ended up about 15 feet from the stage, which rose only about a foot or two off the floor, with a completely unobstructed view of the entire stage.

     As people funneled in the seats quickly filled and about an additional 300 people stood behind the seats filling the rear of the room.  As we sat there we people-watched while the VIPs entered and suddenly I became aware of a tall, skinny older guy standing about a foot in front of me in the aisle talking to a couple.  I looked up at his face to realize it was none other than Pete Thomas himself, Elvis's drummer since the very beginning.  I should have just waited for him to finish his conversation--he obviously knew the people--then said something to him but instead I tried to power up my cell phone to take a picture.  By the time I was ready to shoot he was already moving on--he even had his drumsticks in his hand.  I don't think anyone else even recognized him.  He just walked away and no one gave him a second look.

     8:15 the show started right on time.  The host of The Artists Den came out to introduce Elvis and stunningly misidentified the title of the new album as National Anthem.  I sure hope they overdub that in the telecast.  Then The Man came out alone and did one solo number--Bullets for the New-Born King-- before being joined by the rest of the band and launching into I Lost You.  Now, one thing that I've always found interesting about Elvis is that he has sort of an entertainer's version of multiple personality disorder.  When we see and hear him in interviews and in other settings outside of his element he seems at times shy, fidgety, geeky, and, well, just not the guy he is on stage.  But when he is on stage, with his guitar in hand, he is The Man.  He is large and in charge and everyone knows it.  The phony British accent goes out the window and the confident, consummate showman emerges.

     

     For anyone who is not aware, Elvis recorded his new album and his last album--Secret, Profane, and Sugarcane--with a bluegrass band called The Sugarcanes.  So there's a guy with a fiddle, another guy with an accordion, mandolin, dobro, double bass, and Pete on drums.  Pete was introduced as an "Honorary Sugarcane."   There was another guy on vocals and guitar who looked like David Carradine but it couldn't have been him because he--oops--accidentally hung himself in Hong Kong or Thailand or somewhere like that.  Actually, his name is Jim Lauderdale and he co-wrote a couple of the songs with Elvis.   The guy playing the mandolin was smiling broadly and made several comments to the other musicians during the show.  I can't help thinking that he was telling them, "I can't believe I'm up here playing with Elvis!"  I wouldn't doubt it.   

     The set list for the show came almost entirely from these two albums with the exception of  tweaked versions of Blame it on Cain and Leave My Kitten Alone and I think four other numbers which were written after the album had been recorded.  I was mesmerized from start to finish.  Maryann kept laughing at me because I was so into it.  It didn't matter that it wasn't  his regular rock 'n roll show that we've grown accustomed to over the years.  One thing that struck me when he first came out was how old he looked.  I guess he's in his mid-50's now.  But he didn't play like he was old and he was in excellent voice, as always--powerful and flawless.   He rocked that little room like he was a kid again.  Even though we were in a library, I didn't hear anyone tell him to "shhhh" or "Keep it down."  It was so loud at times the room was shaking--especially on the power numbers such as National Ransom, I Lost You, The Spell That You Cast, and Five Small Words.  Actually, I don't remember if he did Five Small  Words, but if he didn't, he should have.  On Sulphur to Sugarcane, which is an amusing and light-hearted telling of groupies he's encountered from city to city, the second line is "Everywhere I travel,  pretty girls call my name."  No one in the audience called his name so he stopped the song and said, "Wait a second.  Let's try that again."  When he restarted the song and got to the second line Maryann and exactly two other women screamed out "Elvis!"  The others probably didn't know what was going on. Then there was another song, I forget which one, where he says beforehand--he had been using acoustic guitars all night--"I brought an electric guitar with me tonight."  And everyone let out a cheer.  Then as he strapped it on and looked down to plug it in I let out a loud and enthusiastic "WOOH" which, if I'm lucky, will make it into the telecast, CD, and DVD. He looked up abruptly and said, "Don't get too excited--this one only has four strings.....but it's supposed to have only four strings."   A Voice in the Dark sounded hauntingly like a Dean Martin number and A Slow Drag With Josephine--which he's been playing extensively on the publicity tour--is a catchy little number but I can't get it out of my mind that it sounds like something that Brer Rabbit and his jug band would be playing on Big Splash Mountain at Magic Kingdom in Orlando.  Then, of course, there were a number of poignant and slower catch-your-breath numbers which had everyone's rapt attention, such as Dr. Watson, I Presume and Jimmy Standing in the Rain.

       The show lasted just under two hours.  The first set lasted basically one hour, and was followed up by two fairly lengthy encores.  At the end of each set, and especially at the very end of the show, Elvis struck his familiar, stationary pose in which he looks out at his audience and simply absorbs all of the applause, adulation, and adoration.

  

     The crowd was extremely energetic and sounded like a hell of a lot more than 500 people. The Artists Den has done a great personal and public service by featuring Elvis and I will be eternally grateful for having been fortunate enough to bear witness.

     Anyway, by the time the show was over I was emotionally drained.  I would say it was a dream come true but, honestly, I had never dreamed of anything like this.  Overall, I would have to say this was one of the top 5ive experiences of my life.  It was such a thrill.  I mentioned that to my daughter and she exclaimed, "What about me?"  Obviously she's in the top five also, as are Nathan and Maryann.  They're all tied for first.  I'll have to give this some thought to come up with number five.