Remembering The Purple Gang 

If gin mills and jazz were the forbidden fruit of the Roaring Twenties, the swiveling hips of Elvis Presley and the brutal sullenness of street gangs -- personified by James Dean and Marlon Brando -- were the bugaboos of the Ike Age. Elvis was often unintelligible, Brando and Dean often barely articulate, but if the 50s offered nothing to compare with Cole Porter, Smokey Joe's Cafe reminded us last week that Leiber & Stoller's paeans to the agonies of love and the joys of hedonism had kicky intoxicants all their own. And yes, the songwriting duo's creations occasionally blossomed with lyricism.Onstage at Belk Theater for less than 92 minutes, the Smokey Joe's ensemble zipped through no less than 38 different titles from the oeuvre of Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller. Toss in another four reprises, and you gather the accurate impression that this musical revue doesn't linger long and lovingly on anything these consummate chartbusters produced.

But the charisma of Elvis -- and the songs that fueled his revolution -- were visceral above all. Though they flit by too swiftly under musical supervisor Stephen M. Bishop to savor fully, there's enough of "Treat Me Nice" and a choreographed "Jailhouse Rock" to remind us that Leiber & Stoller laid the cornerstone of The King's punkish screen persona. To do it, they needed to know sexual and street predators to the bone.

Leiber & Stoller also resonated to the pure raw cussedness of "Hound Dog," the outrage that ignited it all. Yes, the lyrics of Presley's landmark single were discarded in Smokey Joe's transit to Broadway in 1995, yielding to the lesser known version recorded by Big Mama Thornton. Still, the electrifying rendition by Nova Y. Payton last week offered ample compensation. It also served as a snappy comeback to EJ Griffon's mock machismo on "Treat Me Nice."

A couple of tweaks here and there endowed the lyrics with a new -- and unwelcome -- political correctness. The "crazy little women" of the chart-topping "Kansas City" are replaced by a "crazy way of loving," wresting the #1 hit from the paws of a horny male chauvinist and making it more amenable to a wholesome trio. Two gals and a guy planning a joyride! And the tagline from "Charlie Brown" is raised about an octave, bleaching out the ethnicity and the clownish flavor of "Why's everybody always pickin' on me?"

Griffon teamed together with Terry L. Daniels, Chris Sams and Mark Anthony Hall to form the cohesive quartet covering two of the Coasters' most treasurable novelties, "Searchin'" and "Poison Ivy." Jason Shuffler, the erstwhile Elvis of "Jailhouse Rock," joined the group for the prime doo-wop cut of the Drifters, "There Goes My Baby," and the choice exotica that became the Clovers' swan song on the pop charts, "Love Potion #9."

While Griffon handled the lion's share of the comedy, it was Daniels who seized the spotlight in lead vocals Ben E. King made famous, torching the anthemic "Stand By Me" with particular force. But I found the steamy duet on "Spanish Harlem" more to my liking, with Sams and Mekia Cox intertwining. Cox also turned the heat up on a tasty Elvis/Ann-Margret vehicle, "You're the Boss," paired with Hall.

Aside from Cox and Payton, the women in the ensemble were rather bland. Then again, studs and small gangs of doo-wop delinquents have always enjoyed greater opportunities to shine in the Leiber & Stoller songbook. We tend to associate this raunchy team with the Purple Gang from "Jailhouse Rock," the goofballs of "Yakety Yak," the underdog from "On Broadway," the young buck heading for "Kansas City," or that disgraced schmuck seeking his "Love Potion" because he has flopped with chicks since 1956.

Yet for one incandescent moment, Leiber & Stoller bestowed an arrogant swagger upon Peggy Lee as potent as anything they had given Elvis. All four ladies in the ensemble bit into a piece of "I'm a Woman," one cocky stanza at a time. So it was curly Kate McCann who drew the chance to spit out the closing lines: "I can make a dress out of a feed bag, and I can make a man out of you!"

As ineffectual as McCann's caterwauling was all evening long, that one sentence drew spontaneous yelps from the audience. Fifty years after "Hound Dog," the best of Leiber & Stoller still has that power.

A new excitement surrounds the Charlotte Philharmonic Orchestra these days after their recent appearances on TV in numerous major PBS markets. Looking at the crane-mounted video camera swooping in-and-out, up-and-down, across-and-back over the Belk Theater stage during the Three Tenors of Charlotte concert last Saturday night, you didn't need clairvoyant gifts to see more TV in CPO's future.While a little more woodshedding might be necessary for Charlotte's Phil to rival Keith Lockhart's brigade at Boston Pops, maestro Albert E. Moehring & Co. clearly have the chops to fill the void left by the demise of the Champagne Music Makers and the late Lawrence Welk. Adorned by the cunningly costumed charges of the Charlotte City Ballet, the CPO's evocation of the traditional New Year's soiree staged by the Vienna Phil was undeniably telegenic.

The sounds wafted into the hall were also eminently respectable. Strauss's "Overture to Die Fledrermaus," nicely paced by Moehring from the podium, overtaxed the violins only in the swiftest passages -- but not enough to burst the champagne bubble of this seasonal favorite.

All the local tenors delivered deep satisfaction to CPO's loyal subscribers. They're not a persnickety bunch.

Armed with the most strength in his upper register, Christopher Cameron was truly impressive singing Cavaradossi's gorgeous Act 1 aria from Tosca. Sporting the most velvety top, Craig Estep confined himself to show tunes in his solos, most effectively in "Anthem" from Chess. Jeffrey Price had to stray into falsetto to navigate the upper reaches of "Danny Boy," fairly butchering the lad, but he managed to navigate the familiar "Flower Song" from Carmen with a trace of passionate panache.

Onstage together, the tenors had fun while bungling a handoff in the "Libiamo" from La Traviata and another in their West Side Story medley. Best of the trios was the "Nessun dorma" from Turandot. Working together, the trio was able to muster a lusty "Vincero!" victory that they probably couldn't replicate individually.

If you think President Bush has a hard job in the Oval Office, I hope the TV broadcast delivers close-ups of the tenors belting out their highest notes. Gazing with watery eyes at the topmost balcony, the bearded Estep was arguably the most agonized, looking like a Robert Foxworth in the throes of circumcision.