I had a poster of The King on my bedroom wall. I learnt how to say 'Thankyouverymuch' and 'Show 'em son' and for hours I practiced curling my lip in the bathroom mirror. 'King Creole' had a chip out of it so the chant at the beginning was always reduced to one "Ng Cre-Ole" before Elvis launched into his belly-roll 'Uh there's a man in New Orleans." I was hooked! The BBC showed all the Elvis movies, and I watched every one, I think. 'My Baby Left Me' with that fantastic intro.
I don't know how many times I played those 78s - 'Heartbreak Hotel', 'Jailhouse Rock', Hound Dog. In the afternoon Dad went into the attic and pulled out an old suitcase-style wind-up gramaphone and a box of heavy, weird-looking records. That morning Mum and Dad were talking excitedly at the breakfast table about some singer who had died. James' Infirmary.Īugwas two days before my 10th birthday. I think I learnt Old MacDonald first, but I definitely had a preference for the 'bluer' songs, and soon mastered Massa's in the Cold Cold Ground, Corrina Corrina, St.
The tenor was perfect for small hands, and dad must have taught me how to tune the tenor like a 6-string so I could learn from the guitar chord diagrams in the book. I can't remember exactly when I was first allowed to play dad's1930s Gibson tenor, but I do have a memory of sitting on the blue sofa in the living-room of the house we lived in when I was about 8 or 9, with the Gibson and an old songbook called 'Folk Song Favorites You Like to Remember' for guitar.
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