Elvis was my first musical hero, indisputably the King (though he wasn’t called that, yet, there was no need.) His smile was charming, and America, as straight as a thin string tie, reacted in horror at his rotating leg. And there were the others: Jerry Lee Lewis (with his thirteen year old bride; these boys really were southern) the Everly Brothers (with their mellow harmonies), the screaming Little Richard pounding the piano, and the duck-walking Chuck Berry,
(From ETHAN RUSSELL: AN AMERICAN STORY available here.)
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Elvis was the King.