The Beatles could have saved Elvis. And Elvis could have saved The Beatles.
This occurred to me as I was listening to the latest Elvis release, Elvis Viva Las Vegas. The CD, issued last month to correspond with the 30th anniversary of Elvis’s death, is a collection of 15 songs recorded live (along with the studio version of “Viva Las Vegas,” which kicks off the album) from the International and the Las Vegas Hilton. The recordings are from 1970-1972, before Elvis’ self-indulgence became sadly evident onstage. He sounds great, energetic. He doesn’t mumble or fumble lyrics, and his band and backup vocalists pack a punch.
But I was more impressed with the set list: Such songs as Simon and Garfunkel’s “Bridge Over Troubled Water” and the Righteous Brothers’ “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling.” At a time when Elvis could have repeated his old Sun hits and sent millions home happy, he opted for “Release Me” and “Never Been to Spain.” The move to the International showed that Elvis, the leading man in dozens of crappy movies, was attempting to reinvent himself as a contemporary performer.
But consider the time Elvis returned to the stage in Vegas: 1969. Across the globe The Beatles were fraying in personal, musical and business disputes. As Elvis was fitted for studded costumes that made him look like a superhero, the Beatles were squabbling over who would take over as manager of the band (eventually Allen Klein presided over The Beatles’ disintegration). As the recording sessions for Abbey Road wound down, Paul McCartney offered The Beatles an inspired idea: Return to the road for a series of club performances. The ill-fated Let It Be was an attempt to make a live album of new material; McCartney sought to carry that concept through to a tour that would reinvigorate the band.
When John Lennon heard this, he told the others he was quitting the band. “You’re daft,” he said to McCartney.
But what if someone—and it couldn’t have been Klein or the tragically misguided Col. Tom Parker—had the vision to pair Elvis and The Beatles for a world tour?
It is not that far-fetched a concept. Without question, the two sides shared a mutual respect. During his televised comeback special in 1968, the only band Elvis mentioned onstage was The Beatles, as he talked briefly of the “new music” he liked. And in The Beatles’ Anthology video series, one of the funniest moments unfolds as McCartney, George Harrison and Ringo Starr wax nostalgic over their visit to Elvis’ place in LA during The Beatles’ 1965 U.S. tour. “Wow! It’s Elvis!” is how McCartney remembered the meeting.
If there was anything The Beatles could have agreed on in 1969, it was that they still loved Elvis. And Elvis needed a forum to entertain live and reconnect with his fans.
The idea—at least, the idea of Col. Johnny Kats—would have been to launch and end the tour in The Beatles’ and Elvis’ respective hometowns. It would open in Liverpool and end in Memphis. It would have had to be a stadium tour, bringing to mind the massive open-air events of The Beatles’ Shea Stadium concert and Elvis’ Aloha From Hawaii telecast in 1973.
Who would open? How about a coin flip before each show? Or a draw of cards? Make it its own spectacle, like a weigh-in before a title fight. Elvis draws a king! He opens at Dodger Stadium! And culminating the night would be a jam session where the assembled legends would trot out “That’s All Right, Mama,” a song The Beatles played in their early days but never put to album.
Ah. What might have been. But we still have the old recordings of Elvis, appropriately wailing “The Impossible Dream” as his show, and career, faded out in a sequined jumpsuit on the Vegas stage.