Another fine article from the good folks at Gangrey. This time it’s Sean Daly of the venerable St. Pete Times sharing the significance of Memphis (or Big Shelby, as James Autry’s relatives referred to it in Nights Under A Tin Roof), for good or ill, from a barstool in Earnestine and Hazel’s to the gates of Graceland to the balcony of the Lorraine Motel.

And Ben is correct when he lauds the greatness of Daniel Wallace’s shots. I just wish I could’ve seen the girls’ mystery ghost/golden retriever shot from Jeff Buckley’s old house.

I love that city and it’s time to go back. I think I may have found my spring break destination. Save me a seat, Russell. I want to sit and talk about Otis and Elvis and Albert and B.B. and Bobby “Blue” Bland all afternoon long.

In Earnestine & Hazel’s, Memphis makes beautiful, haunted sense.

This is a town where restaurants and bars pride themselves not on their DJs or their stereo systems, but on their jukeboxes. Slide a quarter in and press play for the past.

Music connects everything here – the food BBQ, fried catfish, related artery nightmares, the architecture (brick, mortar, cinder block), the people (cliche in their hospitable charm) – and almost everything is connected to Elvis, Otis, the Delta bluesmen. Memphis is hot, steamy, mosquito-ridden, but it also is soundtracked by greatness.

“We have everybody here,” George says. “The Queen of Rock ‘n’ Roll: Tina Turner. The King of Rock ‘n’ Roll: Elvis Presley. The King of Soul: Otis Redding. And the Queen of Soul. You know who that is? Aretha Franklin. She’s from here, too.”