Elvis Presley: How Great Thou Art

ELVIS PRESLEY: HOW GREAT THOU ART (1967)

1) How Great Thou Art; 2) In The Garden; 3) Somebody Bigger Than You And I; 4) Farther Along; 5) Stand By Me; 6) Without Him; 7) So High; 8) Where Could I Go But To The Lord; 9) By And By; 10) If The Lord Wasnʼt Walking By My Side; 11) Run On; 12) Where No One Stands Alone; 13) Crying In The Chapel.

General verdict: Feels almost like the real thing — definitely as close to «true gospel» as the man would ever get. Who needs psychedelia when you have the King on your side?

Once again, context is everything. Surrounded by the Kingʼs golden great rockʼnʼroll classics, this album would have probably seemed underwhelming in comparison, particularly to a not particularly religious conscience (like mine). But surrounded on both chronological sides with Elvisʼ soundtrack fluff, How Great Thou Art is not simply a breath of fresh air — it literally towers over all of that crap as a genuine artistic masterpiece.

One thing is for sure: it is definitely the most creative, curious, and deeply felt of his three gospel albums. The main problem with His Hand In Mine was that it was really a «gospel» album only on the surface: at heart, it was really an album of sentimental crooning balladry — nice and well-meaning, but way too slight to evoke a properly spiritual response. With this experience — and let us not forget that it was actually Elvisʼ first proper new album in five years — it feels as if the man had actually realized that himself, and tried to rise up to the challenge of creating a true gospel experience this time. With a brand new producer (Felton Jarvis), a set of tunes that Elvis mostly picked out himself rather than had imposed on him, an actual gospel quartet joining him for backup (The Imperials), and even a set of arrangements for traditional tunes credited to Elvis Presley in person, he clearly wanted to make something different, and he largely succeeded.

Even the track order matters here: instead of being interspersed with each other as they were on His Hand In Mine, here the slow and solemn hymns are all put together on the first side, while the fast and ruckus-raising spirituals are confined to Side B. This creates a risk of bringing on monotonous boredom, but it also eliminates the risk of «mood killing», and at least on the first side — the most interesting one, if you ask me — the approach pays off well. Two things are immediately noticeable — a huge emphasis on keyboards, usually piano and more rarely organ, with far more sophisticated and tempestuous arrangements than before; and a new sort of depth and seriousness to Elvisʼ singing, as he goes lower than he has done in years, generally refraining from sensual crooning and going for something more «earthy», if you know what I mean.

Of those six opening songs, the unhurried waltzing of ʽFarther Alongʼ is my favorite — maybe because of the lyrics, whose significance goes far beyond simplistic Christian conventions, or maybe because somehow Elvis manages to turn it almost personal; it is interesting that if you compare the song to other versions, from the Byrds all the way to Brad Paisley, Elvisʼ one actually omits the decisive third verse (basically the one that states how Jesus is going to solve all your problems) and only includes the first two (listing the actual problems). Whatever be the actual truth, the gut impression is that of a tired, exhausted, but still deeply optimistic person quietly praying for alleviation — almost like a veiled cry for help, which comes across as doubly significant if you are aware of the context in which these sessions were held.

But there are other highlights, too. The title track has an interesting construction, starting out without a rhythm section, just wave upon wave of impressionistic piano playing and occasional thunder-imitating drumrolls, then smoothly transitioning into another anthemic waltz with huge booming choruses, subtly attenuated by an uncredited string section. And ʽSomebody Bigger Than You And Iʼ may be seen as an early precursor to Elvisʼ bigger-than-life, ʽSuspicious Mindsʼ et al. style, but still with much more restraint than most of his Vegas-style material, probably because most of the «pomp» is generated by the loudness of the Imperialsʼ backing vocals and the mighty organ, rather than glitzy strings and horns.

The second side of the album, opening with the fast-paced ʽSo Highʼ and rarely losing the tempo, is not as sonically interesting, but you could still argue that there is more genuine rockʼnʼroll energy and inspiration in songs like ʽSo Highʼ and ʽRun Onʼ than in all of the manʼs soundtracks from the previous couple of years combined. ʽBy And Byʼ actually features fuzzy electric guitar riffage (!), while ʽRun Onʼ (more commonly known as ʽGodʼs Gonna Cut You Downʼ, but they probably wanted to avoid unnecessarily violent connotations on the album sleeve) cannot exactly hope to compete with the ground-shaking intensity of a Blind Willie Johnson, but still winds the man up tighter and tenser than anything since the days of ʽReady Teddyʼ. ITʼS ALIVE!

Naturally, one should not get too excited: Elvis still hasnʼt become a true gospel prophet, and there are one too many slow waltzing tempos on here to insist that the gospel theme might be used here as just a vehicle for experimentation and rejuvenation. And coming out with even a good gospel album in 1967, the year of Sgt. Pepper, was hardly the right move to re-establish a good working relation with the progressive critical minds. Yet it is quite clear that here, for the second time in a row after the (very relative) freshness of Spinout, was something that the King did not need to be ashamed of — so, for all purposes, we might as well consider that the manʼs actual «comeback» starts here, rather than with the «comeback special» and In Memphis, even if we would still have to deal with more soundtrack embarrassments in between.