History has it that rock and roll materialized in the wee hours of July 6, 1954, when a painfully introverted teenager suddenly grabbed his guitar during a fruitless Sun Records audition, cut loose, and, according to guitarist Scotty Moore, started “singing this song, jumping around and acting the fool… Then, Bill (Black) picked up his bass and started acting the fool, too… and I started playing with them.”

Rock Chemistry 101.

“That’s All Right,” Arthur Crudup’s 1947 blues number, was transformed by a walking country beat and sheer conviction. Sam Phillips sensed something extraordinary was afoot, so he set tape in motion and instructed the boys to “back up, find a place to start, and do it again.” Phillips, a DJ/songwriter/producer who ran Sun Records and Memphis Recording Service, detected a glimmer of the sound he’d sought for years, along with its ideal spokesman – a truck driver, barely out of high school, who’d previously only sung slow ballads. Prior to Elvis, he documented the region’s emerging black music in hopes of marketing it to a wider audience, recording Howlin’ Wolf, B.B King, Bobby Bland, Rufus Thomas, and “Rocket 88,” Ike Turner’s 1951 prototype rocker with Jackie Brenston. A man in search of a sound over a style, Phillips got both with Elvis, who, when pressed about his predecessors, famously replied, “I don’t sound like nobody.” He was already somebody – the “King of Rock and Roll” – folding black idioms into an idiosyncratic-but-organic country/pop/gospel melange, and transcending the material with a powerful combination of personal charisma and an embryonic rock style.

Elvis emerged from the Deep South. Born in Tupelo, Mississippi, he was drawn to blues, country, gospel, and “race records” that preceded R&B. By 13, his family relocated to Memphis, where he caught the ear of local radio personality Marion Keisker. In the summer of ’53, he walked into Sun to record an acetate of “My Happiness” for his mother’s birthday. Initially, Marion assumed he was a beggar with dirty work clothes and disheveled hair, but noted his impressive ballad delivery. On January 4, Presley returned to cut two country ballads, “Casual Love Affair” and “I’ll Never Stand in Your Way,” prompting a true audition. Phillips contracted accompanists Moore and Black, who’d recorded at Sun with their Starlite Wranglers, and dubbed them The Blue Moon Boys. The July ’54 session began on a less-than-auspicious note, with tries at “I Love You Because” and other songs. After their novel interpretation of Crudup’s song, the group hit stride, the trio setting allowed for unprecedented freedom and fostered experimentation without preconception resulting in the spontaneous feeling as they adapted their approach from song to song; redefining country-western, bluegrass, pop, blues, and hillbilly material through the lens of rock and roll, and highlighting Elvis as blues shouter, pop crooner, gospel singer, and C&W twanger.

Scotty Moore’s solo in “That’s All Right” is a model of early rock-and-roll guitar. He mixes idioms in the first phrase, combining a walking-bass country pickup line (a fixture of rockabilly guitar) with pop-oriented diatonic thirds. Note the bluesy bend added in measure 8, which completes the country/pop/blues equation. The country aspect is further emphasized in Travis-picked patterns on D9 and E (7#9) chords in 10-15.

The story is best told through its procession of five singles recorded in eight sessions between July 6, 1954 and July 11, 1955, and later compiled with outtakes and alternates as The Sun Sessions. “That’s All Right,” Elvis’ debut single, remained with him into his Vegas period. It exemplifies rockabilly with reimagined blues subjected to propulsive acoustic rhythm guitar, electric guitar comping and embellishment, and gut-bucket bass. Moore merged country and blues styles, and the master take reveals his perfecting of hooks and parts into a refined pop vehicle. “Blue Moon of Kentucky” is an update of Bill Monroe’s bluegrass classic, a traditional waltz similarly transformed into a blues-tinged rocker with prominent slap-back echo. The arrangement evolved from Black’s lampoon of Monroe’s falsetto accompanied by bass thumps.

“Good Rockin’ Tonight,” recorded September 10, quelled any doubts about incipient rock and roll. It was no fluke, covered three decades later by the Honeydrippers (Jeff Beck, Robert Plant) as “Rockin’ at Midnight.” Roy Brown’s 12-bar jump-blues, eclipsed by shouter Wynonie Harris’ famous 1948 version, was remade by the trio and trumpeted the arrival of the message and essence of rock, implicit in the title. Moore’s dyads and country picking are contrasted by a palm-muted boogie-woogie bass riff (1:00) – all definitive rockabilly ingredients foreshadowing future developments. “I Don’t Care If the Sun Don’t Shine” was less impactful, but offered their transformation of Mack David’s movie song (intended for Disney’s Cinderella) popularized in 1950 by Patti Page. It established Elvis’ practice of pairing rockabilly with country/pop numbers. Moore’s colorful country-oriented approach included idiomatic filigreed fingerpicking, chromatic Atkins-inspired parts (0:13), and sparse rhythmic strumming (0:24).

Recorded in December of ’54, “Milk Cow Blues” reworked Johnnie Lee Willis’ of Kokomo Arnold’s blues song. Originally attempted as a slow ballad, it became charging rockabilly when Elvis commanded “Hold it, fellas! That don’t move me! Let’s get real, real gone for a change.” Moore responded with a strong recurring riff (0:22) alluding to Chicago blues and Travis-picked patterns in the verses, and elaborated on those elements in his solo (1:15-1:30). Occasional extra bars are found in the structure, evoking its looser country-blues ancestry. “You’re a Heartbreaker” was a surprisingly effervescent country/pop take on Jack Sallee’s songwriter’s demo offsetting the hard hitting A side.

“Baby, Let’s Play House” was known to have enticed a young Jimmy Page. Blatantly guitar-driven, it has all the ingredients at the outset; the intro sports Moore’s solid boogie bass figure in eighth-note rhythm, palm-muted and drenched in echo, functioning as both riff and reinforcement of the low-E pedal point. Hybrid fingerpicked textures (0:10-15) suggesting country and blues sources complement the figure. Note the Travis-picked rendering of a C7-B7 blues cadence in measure 10 and characteristic E6 and E7 colors typical of rockabilly in 11.

“Baby Let’s Play House” was a rearranged/rewritten version of Arthur Gunter’s 1954 number, and resides in rock mythos as the song that inspired Jimmy Page to pick up the guitar. Moore’s parts present classic rockabilly elements like a boogie-woogie bass line as guitar riff and chord textures that split the difference between Travis picking and rural blues. Lyrics include Elvis’ added reference to an iconic Pink Cadillac, his custom-painted personal car in ’55 – a rock-and-roll metaphor – as well as the source of John Lennon’s line in “Run For Your Life” (“I’d rather see you dead, little girl…”) and the vocal stutter. It was the first Elvis single to appear on national charts (#5, Billboard Country). “I’m Left, You’re Right, She’s Gone” was written for Elvis by Stan Kesler (session songwriter/musician at Sun) and Bill Taylor. It featured Moore’s arpeggiated country-rock guitar part reminiscent of Carl Perkins and Elvis’ signature hiccup vocal lick (1:00). Phillips overdubbed drummer Jimmie Lott, which presaged the classic rock format of vocalist/frontman with guitar-bass-drums trio.

“I Forgot to Remember to Forget,” another Kesler composition, was an undisguised country/rock amalgam that made Elvis a national star with his first #1 record (Billboard C&W). The track added Johnny Bernero on drums, enhancing Moore’s strong pop/country guitar backing. The Beatles covered the tune on their ’64 BBC live recordings, with George Harrison singing lead.

“Mystery Train” re-made Junior Parker’s ’53 blues song (originally recorded at Sun) into quintessential rockabilly. Ironically, this most enduring piece of the Sun sessions was relegated to the last single’s B-side. Buoyed by Moore’s hypnotic E-A chord riff, borrowing equally from Pat Hare’s work on Parker’s “Love My Baby” and Merle Travis’ “Sixteen Tons, it’s another definitive example of merging blues and country in the Sun period. Hare, a member of Little Junior’s Blue Flames, exerted a strong influence on rockabilly at this juncture, evident in this track and subsequent recordings. Moreover, Hare’s hard-driving blues style and use of overdriven amp distortion as Sun sideman with Howlin’ Wolf, James Cotton, Bobby Bland, and later, Muddy Waters in Chicago, further informed urban and country styles as well as crossover players. The track is notable for its conspicuous slap-back echo and has consistently made the short list of all-time greatest rock songs.

The timeless “Good Rockin’ Tonight” signaled the intent of the music in its title. Moore’s solo is a highlight of the track; his opening licks (0:42-47) were recalled in SRV’s “Pride and Joy” and by dozens of other players since. Played over a blues in E, his lines are tight and economical. His first phrase is made entirely of dyads in steady eighths working down the fretboard on the upper strings in measures 1-5. Note his use of unisons in 4-5. The answer phrase in 6-11 (0:48) is a rhythm/lead riff stressing syncopation, reminiscent of R&B horn figures, and constructed of sparse tritone dyads implying A7 and B7. The Travis-picked conclusion in 12-13 (0:57) introduces Scotty’s trademark country influences to the proceedings.

The remaining seven master tracks from The Sun Sessions comprise songs recorded but not released. “Just Because,” a 1942 Shelton Brothers’ song, was reputedly inspired by Patti Page’s version, on which Hank Garland played. The piece features Moore flaunting western-swing chops a la Travis, Atkins, and Roy Lanham over a fast country shuffle and incorporating the genre’s chromatic jazz harmonies (0:38) that later influenced George Harrison (“Help!”). “I Love You Because” (July, ’54) conveys sentimental pop-crooner sensibilities reminiscent of Leon Payne and Eddie Fisher, a contrast to their hard-edged rockabilly, replete with Moore’s jazz-tinged single-note improvisations recalling Les Paul and George Barnes. “Blue Moon,” (July ’54), Rodgers & Hart’s standard, alluded to both jazz crooner Billy Eckstine’s ’48 version and R&B singer Ivory Joe Hunter, and found Moore producing a percussive, muted accompaniment suggesting bongo-drum effects. “Tomorrow Night” covered Lonnie Johnson’s rendition and was a regulation walking ballad with a country feel. Moore’s guitar part is simple, restrained, and unadorned with a slight reference to his jazz influence in the final chord. “”I’ll Never Let You Go” was prompted by Jimmy Wakely’s version, and has Moore backing Elvis’ crooning throughout with tremoloed partial chords. “Tryin’ to Get to You,” a tune by a ’50s R&B group called The Eagles, is a rare case of Presley playing piano behind Moore’s winding T-Bone-inspired blues fills, light chord comping, and double-stop solo. “Harbor Lights” sports Hawaiian trappings, suggesting Harry Owens’ Royal Hawaiians as the source and contains artistic whistling. It epitomizes Elvis’ omnivorous openness; he prided himself on combining “all kinds” of music in his repertoire, and this track is representative. Moore responds with slurred partial chords and simple single-note melodies conjuring Hawaiian steel-guitar impressions. “When It Rains, It Really Pours” is a simple contemporary blues piece from Billy “The Kid” Emerson (a one-time member of Ike Turner’s band at Sun) never completed at Sun. The final out-take version on Sun Sessions contains false starts, impromptu studio banter, and guitar noodling preceding a complete performance with Moore’s powerful blues-rock soloing.

Moore called his pioneering style an “invention – my first opportunity to really mix it up.” The mix, a formula for rockabilly, included country fingerpicking emphasized by his use of thumb pick and fingers, a la Atkins and Travis, varied rural and urban blues licks, and jazz ideas gleaned from Barney Kessel, Les Paul, Tal Farlow, ’40s big bands and Western swing. A decade later, he released The Guitar That Changed The World. However, the guitar that changed the world in ’54 was his Gibson ES-295. He replaced its stock Les Paul combination tailpiece with a Gretsch Melita Synchro-Sonic bridge with fine-tuning saddles, and a Kluson trapeze tailpiece. By the last Sun dates in July of ’55, he upgraded to a Gibson L-5CES with Alnico single-coil pickups. He used heavy strings (wound G) and played through small Fender and Ampeg tube amps.

Sun Sessions sounds as fresh today as when it was born 70 years ago. Bearing historical and sociological implications beyond the creation of a genre that spans more than 70 years, it is the fountainhead, chosen by the Library of Congress for its importance in the development of American music. Keith Richards won’t travel without a copy, and John Lennon put a finer point on it, “Before Elvis, there was nothing.” The Sun sessions are often heralded as the birth cry of rock and roll. Though Bill Haley’s “Rock Around the Clock” was chronologically first (by three months), it was Elvis’ group that personified rock’s youth culture and larger-than-life attitude, delineated its sound with a unified band, and affected countless musicians to follow. And like the paradigm shifts of Bluesbreakers or Are You Experienced? Moore’s playing on Sun Sessions epitomized the genesis of guitar-centric rock.

Wolf Marshall is the founder and original Editor-In-Chief of GuitarOne magazine. A respected author and columnist, he has been influential in contemporary music education since the early 1980s. His latest book is Jazz Guitar Course: Mastering the Jazz Language. Others include 101 Must-Know Rock Licks, B.B. King: the Definitive Collection, and Best of Jazz Guitar. A list credits can be found at wolfmarshall.com.

This article originally appeared in VG’s August 2024 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.