Scene & Herd - Elvis is everywhere

A respectful column about sex and rock ‘n’ roll



Last Thursday, Aug. 16, was the 24th anniversary of Elvis Presley’s death. The fact that Elvis Death Day is of genuine cultural significance in the South is one of my two favorite things about living here. My other favorite thing about the South is how macaroni and cheese is considered a vegetable. Now that I think about it, the two are not unrelated.

My first Elvis activity of the evening was a trip downtown to Dailey’s, where I saw Elvis impersonator Dana Daniels performing Tribute to Elvis (his italics, not mine). Daniels dresses in a white jumpsuit and basically does Vegas-era Elvis karaoke with dance moves. Daniels repeated to the audience, correctly, that his tribute was respectful of Presley. Ironically, it’s a respectful tribute to an era of Presley’s career when he himself had lapsed into such complete self-parody that he had effectively become the world’s first Elvis impersonator. Daniels is well muscled, well tanned and a hit with the audience (particularly the ladies). For a moment or two, I griped to myself because Daniels needed a lyric sheet to perform “In the Ghetto.” Then I remembered that Vegas-era Presley was so drugged up that he couldn’t remember all the words either. Respectful indeed.

Part two of my Elvis adventure took me to Little Five Points and the Star Bar, where I saw the band Bitch perform a more rock ‘n’ roll Elvis tribute with a parade of guest singers including Amy Pike (formerly of The Lost Continentals). Each Bitch member dressed up in a way meant to evoke an Elvis persona, including Army Elvis, Jailhouse Elvis and a red jump-suited Vegas Elvis. One Bitch was dressed as Andy Kaufman impersonating Elvis. Between songs, Andy Kaufman Elvis would speak in the voice of Kaufman’s Latka character from “Taxi.” Remarkably, he still wasn’t as strange as Army Elvis who, for some reason, decided to decorate his uniform with German war medals and a swastika.

Downstairs in the Vinyl Lounge, I overheard a drunk man telling his friends how he heard about Elvis’ death while in the music of section of a Sears store. The best part was when he had to pause to explain that not only did Sears have a music department in 1977, but that they sold records instead of CDs. Also while downstairs, I met a man named Nelson Tyrone who, dressed in a rented Elvis jumpsuit, seemed to sum up the cultural and moral climate of the 21st-century American South when he explained, in a fake Elvis voice, that he was fueling himself with fried chicken and Red Bull.

Pelvis: I was originally going to make this column about Elvis Death Day and erotic art and cleverly title it Elvis and Pelvises, but my sexcellent adventure withered before it began when I showed up at 7 Stages Gallery in Little Five Points for __InVISION, an exhibit about the female form, to find that all of the gallery-goers had retreated to the theater to watch a play. The only person to talk to was the gallery’s hostess, who requested I keep quiet so that I wouldn’t disturb the performance. After browsing the art, I attempted to exchange a quiet word with one of my friends, but before we could finish our exchange, the hostess shhhsshhd us, so we left.

I ended up instead at Friction Gallery at the StudioPlex on Auburn Avenue for a display of digital erotic art by Atlanta’s Tsubasa (real name Bill). Tsubasa’s images, illustrated on computer, depict idealized semi-nude female forms with outrageous bondage gear that often is depicted as part of the woman’s body, rather than just an outfit. My favorite was a piece depicting a female torso with a metal male figure welded to her stomach and two smaller figures holding onto her nipples. Imagine the Academy Award trophy if it was designed by The Chamber.

Like Harlow, except dudes: On Saturday, I saw Jet, Dropsonic and Soulcracker (of VH-1 “Bands on the Run” fame) at the PlanetJam Cotton Club. For a show that wasn’t even sold out, it was one of the most energetic rock shows I’ve been to in a while. I only caught the tail-end of Jet’s set, but was in time to see and hear several people punching the air and yelling, “Jet-Jet-Jet” when the band was done. Even so, the crowd was clearly there to see Soulcracker. They’re a good band, don’t get me wrong, but when they were swarmed for autographs and pictures after their set (something that does not typically happen to bands playing half-filled clubs), you’ve got to wonder how much of the reaction is in appreciation of their music and how much of it is just because they were on TV. I guess it doesn’t really matter. Besides, the lead guitarist is awfully cute.??


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