That was Norbert Putnam's first glimpse of Elvis, who grew up in a shotgun shack in Tupelo and became known worldwide as the king of rock and roll. Putnam, 28 at the time, had built a reputation as a one of Nashville's top studio bass players. He laid down classic lines on such hits as Dave Loggins' Please Come to Boston and Joan Baez's The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down . But working with Elvis ... that was different.

'I was pretty worried', says Putnam, a former resident of Grenada who taught music for two years at Delta State. 'I would always say a prayer before any session ... but that night I just said', Dear Lord, guide my fingers.' With anybody else I played with, I wanted them to leave saying 'This Putnam guy is the greatest bass player I've ever seen'. With Elvis, I just didn't want to screw up'.

Putnam's road to working with Elvis went through Muscle Shoals, Ala., where he was the studio musician for Tommy Roe, who was produced by Felton Jarvis in the early 1960s.

'When Chet Atkins became head of RCA's Nashville division, he brought in Felton Jarvis and gave him about six acts - one of them being Elvis. Felton respected my work and called me up. Elvis' musicians were getting up in age, and Felton was looking for some younger guys. But I was the last one into the group. The others had worked with him a few times before, so that's why I was so nervous that night. I really felt like I had to prove myself'. Over the next seven years, Putnam would record 122 songs with Elvis. And the man who went on to help launch the careers of Jimmy Buffett and Dan Fogelberg as their producer still says it was one of the most special times of his legendary career. 'You know what a great singer is?' Putnam says. 'It is someone who can deliver mundane lines with such tremendous emotion, it gives you chill bumps ... makes you feel things he or she didn't even say. Two people I worked with could do that - Elvis and Ray Charles. I think Little Richard could do that, and James Brown . But there weren't many. Elvis could do it every time he picked up a microphone'.

His introduction to Elvis was short.

'Elvis, this is Norbert Putnam', Jarvis said. 'He's going to be playing bass tonight. He played on Tony Joe White's 'Polk Salad Annie'. Elvis nodded and smiled. 'Aw, yeah, I loved that', he said. 'Glad to have you'.

'He worked differently than any musician I've ever been around', says Putnam, who lives in Jackson, Tenn., with his wife of 21 years, Sheryl. 'Felton would reserve two blocks of studio time - 6 p.m. to 9 p.m., and 10 p.m. to 1 p.m. Well, Elvis never got started until 10 o'clock, and we always went overtime'.

That first evening, they recorded I've Lost You, followed by seven more songs. They finished at 4 a.m.

'Over five days, we recorded 35 songs', Putnam says. 'That's knocking them out pretty good. But Elvis was really easy to work with. I can't remember one time that he came over and said', You need to play it like this' and then proceed to tell me what to play. In fact, that first night during one of the playbacks he walked over, put his arm around me and said', Great bass playing.' He wanted you at ease. He wanted you to have fun'.

The toughest part about recording with Elvis, he says, was that 'more times than not, he nailed it the first take ... which meant the rhythm section was screwed, because we didn't always get it perfect the first take. Now, we had great players - James Burton on guitar, David Briggs on piano.

But it's rare that everybody gets everything perfect on the first take.

'So we developed this subtle system to get Elvis to do another take. David or I would walk up beside him while we were listening to it back, nudge him in the ribs and say', Elvis, I know you killed it, but would you mind doing just one more time for me? I really think I can do it better.' And every single time he would say', OK, Put's got an idea he wants to try. We're gonna do one more take.' He was never put out by that'.

Putnam says a recording session was 'like an athletic event for Elvis'. He explains: 'He created so much adrenaline in the room. He would use a hand-held microphone so he could move around. He would sort of conduct us with his body. And he was totally courageous. He believed in himself so much. When that red light came on, he held nothing back. He went for it, which made you want to go for it, too. We fed off his energy'.

And, yes, he was eccentric. 'About 1 a.m., a valet would bring him a complete change