I haven’t seen the Elvis movie directed by Baz Luhrmann. Apparently it plays fast and loose with the truth of Elvis Aaron Presley’s life.

Does it matter? Stardom, like hero worship down through the ages
from Achilles to Joan of Arc, has never been limited by the facts of a life. Or even if the hero actually existed. The movie continues that tradition of myth-making.

More important to me, however, than the myth or knowing the flawed man behind the star image, was simply Elvis’ voice, his supreme gift.

Here’s my selection of 10 essential Elvis performances that utilised that gift:

That’s All Right (1954)

The beginning. Sam Phillips’ Sun Studio, with Scotty Moore on electric guitar and Bill Black on upright acoustic bass. A blues song by Arthur Crudup infused with country rhythm and swing. Elvis sings “all right” about 10 different ways, showing off all the recognisable Elvis vocal mannerisms. They’re cliches now, but they must have sounded fresh and original back then. The track was a sensation when first played on a Memphis radio station. Listeners rang up demanding it be played over and over.

Blue Moon (1956)

On all the tracks Elvis recorded at Sun Records, he sounds like no one before him. These recordings are a bomb going off in the tradition of popular music. His version of Blue Moon sounds like he’s singing from outer space. It’s truly weird when he falsettos an elongated “blue” into something primitive and otherworldly. The rarefied soundscape has a lot to do with Sam Phillips’ “reverberation technique” that gave the early Elvis records a big echoing sound.

My Baby Left Me (1956)

Few Elvis impersonators have attempted this song. It’s surprisingly high-pitched. You can hear a sonic trajectory that goes from this to Robert Plant’s blues wailings in Led Zeppelin. Plant was inspired by African American blues singers, but he was also a big Elvis fan.

Heartbreak Hotel (1956)

The definitive early Elvis song. Being lonely has never sounded so good, so sexy. When he gets low and slow in that stuttering vocal, it made the girls scream. It’s the song most people choose if they want to impersonate Elvis. I can do a pretty good version myself. The minimalism of the music accompaniment, that tinkling piano and big bass notes, gives the song a texture that, contrary to the song’s lyrics, helps make Heartbreak Hotel a place you want to be.

You’ll Never Walk Alone (1967)

There are some good performances on Elvis’ post-army records, even the ones accompanying some of those awful movies. However it’s his gospel recordings during the sixties where he’s most passionate and committed. It’s hard to pick a favourite, but I’ll go with You’ll Never Walk Alone, which was a Rodgers and Hammerstein show tune that Elvis turned into a gospel song. He’s singing like a man who knows what it’s like to be lost. His performances of How Great Thou Art, Amazing Grace and Milky White Way are equally moving. I’m not remotely religious, but I’d listen to these songs in a beautiful church and probably cry.

Tomorrow Is A Long Time (1966)

A cover of a Bob Dylan song. Elvis heard the song via an Odetta album of Dylan covers. The way Elvis sings it, with restraint and simplicity, in a mournful tone, slows down time. The song lasts five minutes and 18 seconds, but it seems much longer, with tomorrow never reached.

If I Can Dream (1968)

To fully appreciate If I Can Dream, you have to watch Elvis’ performance that concluded his NBC television special of 1968. This is rock stardom presence with bells on. His movements are somehow awkward and incredibly cool at the same time. Elvis is both church preacher and snake oil seller at a travelling circus. Either way, you can’t help believing, such is the performance. There’s a growl in his voice on this plaintive song that’s rare.

Suspicious Minds (1968)

Rejuvenated by the ’68 Comeback Special and free from movie contracts, Elvis headed to Memphis to record what many people think is his best album. The sessions produced the wonderful Suspicious Minds. To my mind, his vocal is effortless – a word that best describes Elvis’ singing at its most sublime. The song’s protagonists are stuck in a trap, while Elvis’ voice is stuck in an irresistible groove.

An American Trilogy (1971)

This song montage takes me back to being a young child exposed to Elvis through my dad playing one of his greatest hits albums. I didn’t understand what An American Trilogy was about. It just sounded important. An ascending operatic movement of sadness and emotional release. A deep mystery to a child’s ears.

My Way (Live, 1977)

In the 1981 documentary film, This Is Elvis, the movie’s makers include footage of Elvis in his final days on stage singing My Way. He’s fat, bloated, sweating profusely, looking ridiculous in a tight-fitting jumpsuit. Even though his body is deteriorating, his voice retains some of that effortless quality. He puts everything into the performance, knowing surely that he soon faces the “final curtain”. It’s tragic and sad, yet defiant of life’s struggles and ultimate absurdity. This is the conclusion of Elvis’ American Dream. I doubt the current movie biopic pulls off anything as poignant.