July 19, 1954—Sometimes the greatest revolutions are produced by people who don’t know enough not to play by the traditional rules. So it proved in 1954, when self-taught owner-producer Sam Phillips of Sun Records decided he’d like to pump up the amp and echo while tinkering with blues and country styles. If he had a plan for success, it was maddeningly vague and inarticulate—something about tapping “resources that weren’t being tapped.”
That day, 19-year-old Elvis Presley and a pair of studio musicians burst on the national music scene with two singles hatched by Phillips: “That’s Alright, Mama” and “Blue Moon of Kentucky.”
Like a new scientific compound, rock ‘n’ roll had been catalyzed from existing materials into a product that would change everything.
For a year, Phillips wasn’t quite sure what to make of this high school grad who hailed originally from Tupelo, Miss. The kid came in initially because he wanted to cut a record (opinion divided later over whether the young man did so for his beloved mom Gladys or just to hear the sound of his own voice).
Phillips was intrigued enough to invite Presley back. Perhaps the producer figured that he wasn’t in a position where he should turn away business, in any case. After all, his downtown Memphis studio had opened only five years ago with the slogan, "We Record Anything-Anywhere-Anytime"—just the type of motto if you were trying to parlay a shoestring operation into one with a reputation for innovation.
Invited back in May 1954, Presley showed up a month later. His first attempt behind the mike at his audition, a song Phillips was working on called “Without You,” wasn’t a success. Phillips urged him to try songs he felt comfortable with.
That day, 19-year-old Elvis Presley and a pair of studio musicians burst on the national music scene with two singles hatched by Phillips: “That’s Alright, Mama” and “Blue Moon of Kentucky.”
Like a new scientific compound, rock ‘n’ roll had been catalyzed from existing materials into a product that would change everything.
For a year, Phillips wasn’t quite sure what to make of this high school grad who hailed originally from Tupelo, Miss. The kid came in initially because he wanted to cut a record (opinion divided later over whether the young man did so for his beloved mom Gladys or just to hear the sound of his own voice).
Phillips was intrigued enough to invite Presley back. Perhaps the producer figured that he wasn’t in a position where he should turn away business, in any case. After all, his downtown Memphis studio had opened only five years ago with the slogan, "We Record Anything-Anywhere-Anytime"—just the type of motto if you were trying to parlay a shoestring operation into one with a reputation for innovation.
Invited back in May 1954, Presley showed up a month later. His first attempt behind the mike at his audition, a song Phillips was working on called “Without You,” wasn’t a success. Phillips urged him to try songs he felt comfortable with.
A second audition, occurring on the Fourth of July and featuring two musicians Phillips knew, guitarist Scotty Moore and bassist Bill Black, likewise failed to set off fireworks. Moore agreed with Phillips that a full-fledged recording session was necessary to see if they had the musical equivalent of fools’ gold, or something else.
The night after Independence Day, the trio was back in the studio with Phillips. Despite his efforts at loosening them up, nothing was clicking on the tracks they tried: a Bing Crosby tune “Harbor Lights” and the country-music ballad, “I Love You Because.”
During a break, Presley picked up a guitar and started goofing off. On the Arthur "Big Boy" Crudup blues song “That’s Alright Mama,” Moore and Black provided an uptempo beat.
Phillips couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was the elusive new sound he was seeking. “What are you doing?” he asked. They didn’t know. “Well, back it up, try to find a place to start, and do it again," he commanded.
When they turned to Bill Monroe’s 1945 bluegrass hit, “Blue Moon of Kentucky,” Phillips knew, unlike Columbus, that he’d discovered something new. “Hell, that's different. That's a pop song now.”
Sun Records would eventually lure Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, Howlin' Wolf, Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Orbison, and Charlie Rich because of Presley’s success. But Phillips, needing to secure capital for these rockabilly artists, felt he needed to pedal his initial find. So he sold Presley’s contract to RCA Records.
The night after Independence Day, the trio was back in the studio with Phillips. Despite his efforts at loosening them up, nothing was clicking on the tracks they tried: a Bing Crosby tune “Harbor Lights” and the country-music ballad, “I Love You Because.”
During a break, Presley picked up a guitar and started goofing off. On the Arthur "Big Boy" Crudup blues song “That’s Alright Mama,” Moore and Black provided an uptempo beat.
Phillips couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was the elusive new sound he was seeking. “What are you doing?” he asked. They didn’t know. “Well, back it up, try to find a place to start, and do it again," he commanded.
When they turned to Bill Monroe’s 1945 bluegrass hit, “Blue Moon of Kentucky,” Phillips knew, unlike Columbus, that he’d discovered something new. “Hell, that's different. That's a pop song now.”
Sun Records would eventually lure Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, Howlin' Wolf, Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Orbison, and Charlie Rich because of Presley’s success. But Phillips, needing to secure capital for these rockabilly artists, felt he needed to pedal his initial find. So he sold Presley’s contract to RCA Records.
In 2001, the PBS documentary series American Masters did a segment on Sun Records, Good Rockin’ Tonight, along with a CD tie-in featuring Paul McCartney, Ben Folds Five, Mark Knopfler, Robert Plant and Jimmy Page, Matchbox Twenty, and other rock ‘n’ roll luminaries covering the great hits at the groundbreaking studio. Both the video and audio products are well worth your purchase.
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