Elvis Presley made a huge impact upon the planet; we know this, but what we did not know at the time was that he had a very fast and very high frequency. We did not speak of high frequency at the time in which Elvis lived and performed, although our bodies could feel his great vivacity, enormous presence and controlled velocity. This speed of existence created a majestic form that delighted and excited us, all the way across the world. If I were to remind you that his name, El Vis means the One who Sees, then you might want to consider how extreme and unusual was the presence of someone whose profound energy ricocheted through our earth energies both then and still-now.
Elvis was elegant, beautiful and outstandingly talented; he was also gifted with immense kindness and generosity. He loved women: well, what a surprise! It wasn’t merely that he delivered a sleekly professional show to his audiences, his untrained voice and an equally huge range created something perfect before he even began to move the magical pelvis or allow us to look into his eyes. And those wonderful eyes held a secret – which they rarely showed but which may certainly be glimpsed in the 1968 Comeback Special film – if you look and feel carefully. The reverence accorded to Elvis was not through a plain matter of sex appeal, it was far, far greater than that.
In the early days, when fame was burgeoning, even if rapidly, we can see the star slowly dissolving the impoverishment of his life from the very face that soon brought him his fortune. If you look at the first tapes, they give a strong picture of a man coming through to what he could do naturally – and could not fail at – because he was a man doing what he came to do: open a repressed and hideously hypocritical world of ignorance and shamefully impolite, often inhumane intimate communication.
As he divested himself of a poor complexion, Elvis allowed us to see and feel a male gorgeousness that had done its best to hide for so very long – he was tall, angular, with exquisite hands, beautiful eyes full of light and fabulous hair. Such features, very finely honed features, could be seen among the acting fraternity of the time but it was HE who owned the whole pack of cards, not just parts of them; for there was a sense in him, an aura about him, that tell us that he was a Representative of Beauty.
When Mrs Presley died we all stopped breathing for a moment, knowing that irreparable damage had been done to the heart of her son, a man whose anchor had gone, whose informer of the realities of life had gone – and this easy, faithful companionship was never found again.
The degree to which Elvis championed the pioneers of the Blues, their livelihoods, their poverty and social estrangement, was not particularly publicised at the time but it was strongly present from the first. There was never any pretence that the early music came from anyone else but the band of brothers whose work he cherished and made famous and with whom he had grown up. The making known of the plight of the Southern States was not hidden by a man whose first stage appearances were bursting with the pain of this latter put into the most potent of unforgettable music.
In these, our times of grim realisations, it is perhaps helpful to know that Elvis walked in the highest vibration known to man at that time; his beauty was inimitable, the finesse and grace of his elegance limitless: we know of his human flaws and are reminded that everyone who comes to this earth walks through a veil of forgetfulness as they do so.