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Rating: In our society, greatest hits are often viewed by music purists as a threat. A famous artist (like Queen or Led Zeppelin, just to name some random unknowns) risks being represented only by those songs that Virgin Radio frequently plays on your '78 Fiat Panda; and so if you ask a """"fan""" of who knows... the Beatles if they know a song like "Mother Nature's Son" they'll probably think you're messing with them with a song by Den Harrow.
For the rest of the population, a Greatest Hits is merely a time and money saver, with the added benefit of bragging in front of their less knowledgeable friends.
Among these artists, the ultimate Icon of rock cannot be missing: Elvis Presley! Seriously, if you own more than one of his albums, consider yourself lucky, especially if one of these is the greatest album of all time. For everyone else, there are the countless "Best Of..." and "rare tapes" just to cash in a bit on his corpse (yes, he's dead, enough with the absurd conspiracies).
A character so acclaimed and revered, so much so that an infinite number of fanatics, macro religions in the state of Nevada, and places of worship have been built around him, has accomplished a feat that no one else has ever attempted: an album of the greatest crap ever played by the pompadour, although it must be clarified that, of course, the idea didn't touch Elvis's blown neurons at all, since this double LP is a bootleg album released by Dog Vomit in 1982. Also, because an official album of nothing but pure crap would not only have been a suicide mission for the pompadour's record label, RCA (with the RCA victor logo on the cover transformed into RCA victim) given the highly offensive content of the work, but no sane person would ever pay for an album of bad songs.
And so from the 50 million fans who cannot be wrong, this time it seems they've missed the mark: Elvis' greatest shit is 100% offensive and provocative right from the cover, but the tracks contained within are almost all hated by Elvis himself, and drawn from his most useless and forgotten films over time. Tracks with the most horrible titles ever conceived by the human mind, like Yoga is as Yoga Does (it's said that Elvis hated this track so much he refused to perform it), but it's not the only one: Old MacDonald as the opener (seriously, I already hate McDonald's, now even more), the cacophonous There's No Room to Rhumba in a Sports Car or the sexually suggestive Scratch My Back. Most of the tracks don't even last two minutes, so don't expect 20 minutes of hysterical cacophony (though, I hate to admit it, it would have been a miracle).
The final blow comes at the end of the first disc. Elvis singing Are You Lonesome Tonight, completely destroyed by excesses and in the darkest period of his life (from a 1977 live performance) evokes tenderness and infinite sadness. The laughter for the previous trashy songs disappears, leaving only the desolation of a man who has reached the end of a long career.
This kind of compilation can't be rated: it's a fun idea, but also very offensive, especially for the fans most attached to the Elvis myth, as it could be the album that debunks the myth of his "perfection". However, as is expected from a limited edition LP, it is now almost impossible to find. I wouldn't even recommend purchasing it; rather, searching for all the tracks (which, as I already mentioned, really don't last long) on YouTube or similar platforms is recommended.
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