During early 1958 Elvis Presley released a s(w)ingle called Jailhouse Rock…It was the tune that freed many people from the shackles of Jim Reeves and Bing Crosby and a host of those other “oudoos” boring artists who pandered to the elderly folks, already stationed in their rocking chairs and drinking a host of mind altering alcohol. There was nothing much in terms of musical endearment when these people let rip their Schmaltzy songs loose onto the adoring geriatrics…
Now Elvis was different…He created a
major cyclone when he first went onto the stage singing alien songs and
gyrating his almost feminist hips…The girls went berserk (just like the teenybopper
fans did to the Beatles in Liverpool) …During those years Elvis recorded with
Sun Records and pretty soon the singles came tumbling into the record bars…Much
to the disgust of the parents who thought he was evil and would adversely
affect their behavior.
This little foreword is a mere taste of what
was to come in our little dorpie where I was a Soutie as a border in a large
boarding school…98% of the pupils/learners were from farming communities…Yes,
they were in the main Afrikaans speaking boys…(No girls I am afraid) Some of
them could be termed louts or delinquents.
Every Saturday we were privileged to
walk to the town and spend the rest of the day doing all the things that we
wanted to do, as long as it was decent, moral and in keeping with the high
standards of the School…
However there was a condition that we
all had to abide by…An inspection parade where we were subjected to a decency
inspection…This parade was held in front of all the dormitories and we were put
through the eye of the needle…One aspect that was not tolerated was the subject
of our clothing…The trousers had to comply to the 14 inch rule…Any person
wearing a pair of rods less than 14 inches from front crease to the back of the
trousers could not go into town…This was ascribed to the “klinknaal” culture
that was spreading throughout all the towns in South Africa…”the ducktail”
breed of teenagers who were in some ways rebels of the then modern era…
Because I got very little pocket
money from my parents who lived in George, I could barely afford to go to town
with my friends…as a result I acquired a few talents…cutting hair with those horrendous
metal clippers, that always pinched your hair (blunt instrument) and tailoring
those trousers to just above 14 inches…So as an early fledgling of
entrepreneurship I always had extra cash, for wanting to go to town on a
Saturday…
At school we had very little
knowledge of the world outside…Our only entertainment was reading all those
Gold label books that could guarantee you some froth on page 101 and 165…They
were mainly Westerns where the hero got beaten up, but always managed to hook
that girl from the Last Chance Saloon…Sex did occur, but your imagination had
to take over…I always thought that was tantamount to “cheap thrills in the back
of my friend’s car”
Elvis Presley awoke my sense of
adventure and delinquency. His songs were so different and had a sense of
middle finger about it…Obviously not like Sid Vicious who really shook the
world of Music smut…
We all knew that Elvis was coming to
the Oudtshoorn bioscope (the flicks)…that was all I could dream of for two
solid weeks…My two friends, Johannes, Albert the pretend Grand Prix racing
driver and Jimmy the Greek, whose parents owned a café in Mossel Bay. After
passing the parade Spanish Inquisition with good colours, the three of us
ambled into town, taking the Langenhoven Road, over the swing bridge and into
town…Of course we were determined to each hook up with a few “meisies” from
the “dorp” and impress them with our advanced knowledge of the new Rock era
naming Elvis Presley as the hero. You folks all know that when you are some 15
to 16 years of age, it is all ersatz bravado coupled with very little courage…
We ambled lazily down the dusty road
and into Langenhoven Street, where the famous South African poet, the late CJ
Langenhoven house was located…The dry garden with its pomegranates trees with
the fruit hanging over onto the pavement…We looked around to make that the
coast was clear and plucked a large blood red pomegranate each and casually
walked away towards the swing bridge that crossed over a dry stream.
This swing bridge could rock, from
left to right…so whoever was on that bridge first had the right to control the
fear…Normally before the rains came, pedestrians could cross over the causeway
and us louts would Exercise our adventure into fun…It was a perfect hot hot in
Oudtshoorn, an ever so slight breeze and the smell of the earth wafted through
the trees…
We hit the town and decided to get
the tickets to the show, before all of this was in vain…We were in luck…three
tickets in the middle and on the aisle…what more could you want…None of us
imbibed…We were clean spirited boys with a sense of adventure …There was no
sign of any of us being called a “skollie”
After having acquired the tickets for
the show, we headed off to our favourite café, owned by a Greek…milkshakes, Steak
and eggs and chips…We were not really very hungry as all our thoughts occupied
seeing Elvis Presley…I always thought that I might have been a little besotted
over the chap…
It was time to go…
The main street was packed with
teenagers, a few ou ballies, and spies…We clenched those tickets, making sure
that this was not going to be missed…We bought some Pepsi and sweets and went
into the dark caverns of the cinema, our hearts racing…Everybody was pushing
and shoving and getting a little anxious…
We were torched by the ushers to our
seats, sat down and watched what was going on…the place was packed…the aisles
were overloaded with youngsters, teenagers were leaning against the walls…The
doors slammed…we were waiting, we were waiting…
Unfortunately, the bioscope had to
show a few reels of news, a serial (like a Batman or a Spy Smasher which always ended with the
hero, almost tumbling down the rock face or a bullet missing him by an Inch…
An interval came up, which h gave
some hopefuls the opportunity to swop their comics for different ones to
read…This was really great…I only learnt this thrill when I came back to Cape
Town…After another round of Pepsi and sweets we got down to the question…Is
this Elvis Presley really going to thrill our souls…
The lights dimmed and Elvis Presley
appeared on the monochromic screen…I could only hear my thoughts on all the
things that I felt…Jailhouse Rock came on suddenly…No silence…everyone knew the
words and the moves…
“The warden threw a party in the
county jail
The prison band was there and they
began to wail
The band was jumping and the joint
began to swing
You should’ve heard those knocked out
jailbirds sing” (sic)
“Let’s rock, everybody, let’s rock
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancing to the Jailhouse Rock” (sic)
Then followed a whole string of hits
that covered the film.
Young and Beautiful
Treat me nice
(You’re so square) – Baby I don’t
care
Shake, Rattle and Roll
Good Rockin’ tonight
I don’t care if the sun don’t shine
All this was written in 1957 By Jerry
Lieber and Mike Stoller who were locked up in a room, forcing them to come up
with the hits
The audience was fixated, mesmerized,
hypnotized, dazed and bewildered…Their little town had never known anything so
modern and evil…Elvis Presley was the king of rock and the elders of the
churches were shocked and horrified that a man so young could influence the
innocent boys and girls…Tight jeans and swinging hips…What more could you ask
of a Deacon of an Afrikaans church…Immoral, decadent and thoroughly disgusting
(mutter, mutter)
The stamping and the whistling
continued throughout, and the songs resonated within me…I was sold to the man
who could sell the world by the mere gyrating of his hips and the guitar slung
low over his shoulder. Whether he could play the instrument or not did not
matter to me…Hey hey hey…
Throughout the entire flick, my
friends and I mouthed the words (inaccurately so), stamping our feet humming away,
in the darkness of the bioscope. I dare say there were quite a few of our lads
puffing away bravely on a cigarette, although I had not been captured by the
craving and addiction that was later part of my life…It was really cool to
smoke, and you ended up as king of the heap…
I even stayed to the end of the
rolling credits, once Elvis had sung his last song whilst everyone cheered in
the bioscope…
From an artistic point of view the
film was rather poor but I did not mind as I went to see the King of Rock n
Roll…
My two friends and I trundled rather sadly, passed
CJ Langehoven’s house, up the hill and straight to the Dorms…Koshuis # 5…
An afternoon that I have never
Forgotten, even though in later years, after seeing many of the King’s badly
made films, my taste in music had changed and Elvis was King no more…It was
also very sad and somewhat pathetic that he ended up an icon for all the old
folks, who swooned whenever he came on stage with his white sequined Jump suit
and overgrown jowls…
But he started the revolution and it
still carries on to this day…
Michael Rohloff
16 September 2018
