Music critic B.P. Fallon, manager Louis Walsh, singer Mary Coughlan and music promoter Jim Aiken tell Catherine Foley about their Elvis moments
B.P. Fallon, music critic
I've been to Tupelo, the Bethlehem of America. I was driving by in the middle of the night and it was very humid . . . in this little village where he first appeared . . . I was sitting there on the swing on the porch that his father Vernon built . . . and I thought I should smoke a joint in honour of Elvis. So I fell asleep and saw a lonely little face pressing against the window and white hands on the swing. And I could hear this noise, it was a fused neon light, it was a bug-zapper, a flame-throwing gas light. It told me that I should stay. That's the story of Elvis. He was blinded by the light. He was white trailer trash who had no friends. He was a primal genius. Without Elvis there would be nothing. He was a deity who was crucified by his lack of friends.
Louis Walsh, band manager
I remember buying his 45 records in Castlebar, Co Mayo. I still have them and most of his music. I'm not a fanatic but I do love Elvis. Buying the records was a big deal at the time. I didn't have any money. I think they were about 7s 6d.
There was no record shop in Kiltimagh where I lived. I was about 17 at the time. I remember I bought Return to Sender and Devil in Disguise. I thought they were so cool. I played them and played them.
Jim Aiken, promoter
I heard Elvis in Las Vegas in the early 1970s. I was there to try and get him to come here. He is the only major star that did not come to Ireland. The show was flat. This was the person who had changed everything in music. To see him singing in Vegas and to think of what he could have done, he could have been the ultimate world star but the Colonel didn't allow him to do the world tours. The music and the person that I had imagined didn't match. It was a little bit disillusioning.
Mary Coughlan, singer
My uncle was an Elvis freak. He went to an Elvis meeting once a month and had the biggest collection of Elvis singles. He had the shoes, the hair and the clothes. I remember the box under his arm when he'd head off to the meeting, with the magazine, Elvis Monthly, which came regularly. He'd come into the house with a new single and play it on the record player, he'd say 'God, listen to this'. His younger brother was a Beatles freak and there was a constant battle in the house as to who was the greatest - Elvis or the Beatles.