Introduction

Big Boss Man: A Blues Tune Gets the Presley Treatment
Elvis Presley’s “Big Boss Man” isn’t an original composition by the King of Rock and Roll. It has roots in the blues, specifically with Chicago bluesman Jimmy Reed. Reed released his version of “Big Boss Man” in 1960, and it became a signature song for him. The songwriting credits go to Luther Dixon and Al Smith, showcasing a collaborative effort behind the scenes.

While Reed’s “Big Boss Man” found chart success, Elvis Presley took the song in a slightly different direction in 1967. During a Nashville recording session aimed at producing both singles and tracks for the upcoming “Clambake” soundtrack, “Big Boss Man” emerged. This session notably featured country singer-songwriter Jerry Reed (no relation to Jimmy Reed) whose presence is said to have influenced the final product.

Elvis’ version of “Big Boss Man” retains the bluesy feel of the original, but with a touch of Presley’s signature rock and roll swagger. Released as a single alongside “You Don’t Know Me” in September 1967, it charted at number 38 on the Billboard Hot 100. While not a chart-topping hit, “Big Boss Man” gained further recognition through its inclusion in Elvis’ legendary 1968 Comeback Special. Here, it was featured in a medley with “It Hurts Me,” showcasing Elvis’ dynamic stage presence and even incorporating a bit of a karate-inspired dance move.

“Big Boss Man” wasn’t a permanent fixture in Elvis’ later shows, but it did make occasional appearances. This song stands as a testament to Presley’s ability to interpret and personalize existing music, infusing it with his own energy and style. It’s a bluesy gem that found new life under the King’s belt, offering a glimpse into his appreciation for diverse musical influences. So, put on your blue suede shoes and crank up the volume, because Elvis Presley’s “Big Boss Man” is ready to take you on a soulful ride.

Video

You Missed

“The death of Robin Gibb was not simply the result of fame or life’s choices. It was the heartbreaking conclusion of a journey marked by silent battles — struggles written into his very body long before the world ever knew his name. From the start, Robin carried an invisible burden: hereditary illness that made his health fragile. Decades later, doctors revealed the truth — cancer and intestinal complications that slowly stole his strength. Robin faced other challenges too — chronic pain, drastic weight loss, and relentless exhaustion. To cope, he relied on medications and treatments. What began as survival became a cycle: painkillers to endure, sedatives to sleep, and stimulants to keep performing. He didn’t do it for escape — he did it to keep living, to keep singing, to keep his promise to music and to fans. Food brought little comfort in his later years; his weakened body couldn’t fight back. Yet Robin still pushed himself onto stages, his fragile frame carrying a voice that remained achingly beautiful. Could he have been saved? Perhaps, with today’s science and knowledge, things might have been different. But in his time, no one fully understood the toll of genetic illness and relentless pressure. Robin trusted his doctors. He believed treatment would let him continue, if only a little longer. The sorrow deepened within the Gibb family. Barry, the eldest, bore the agony of watching Maurice and then Robin pass away, each loss tearing away a piece of the Bee Gees’ harmony. Robin’s life was a gift — a voice that was fragile yet haunting, carrying love, sorrow, and a rare humanity. But the world often took without seeing the cost. Behind the glittering disco lights stood a man quietly breaking — not from weakness, but from giving everything and asking for nothing. Robin Gibb was not only a star. He was a man of extraordinary talent with a body that betrayed him. He burned so brightly the world still feels his warmth. Yet his light faded far too soon. That is the part of the story we must remember — not only the legend, but the man who gave it all.”