In the long, glittering history of rock & roll, there are performances that entertain… and then there are performances that restore legends. Elvis Presley’s raw, blues-soaked rendition of “Baby, What You Want Me To Do” during his 1968 Comeback Special belongs firmly in the second category. And if the original broadcast version was electric, the alternate cut is pure voltage — looser, grittier, and thrillingly alive.
By 1968, Elvis Presley had nothing left to prove — at least on paper. He was already a global icon, the man who changed popular music forever. But behind the fame, something had dimmed. Years of lightweight Hollywood films and predictable soundtrack albums had distanced him from the edgy, rhythm-and-blues roots that first made him dangerous, magnetic, and unforgettable. The world still loved Elvis, but many wondered: Could he still rock?
The ’68 Comeback Special answered that question with a leather-clad, sweat-drenched, hip-shaking yes.
A Return to the Roots
Originally written and recorded by blues legend Jimmy Reed, “Baby, What You Want Me To Do” is built on a hypnotic groove and sly lyrical repetition. It’s not flashy. It doesn’t rely on vocal gymnastics. Instead, it thrives on feel — that elusive, unteachable sense of pocket and attitude that separates good performers from great ones.
That made it the perfect song for Elvis at this crossroads moment.
Seated in a small circle with his band during the now-famous sit-down sessions, Elvis looked less like a movie star and more like a kid back in Memphis jamming with friends. Gone were the elaborate sets and polished choreography. In their place: black leather, dim lighting, and a tight group of musicians locked into a blues groove.
The alternate cut of the performance pulls back the curtain even further. You don’t just hear the song — you hear the room. The laughter. The shouted encouragement. The spontaneous shifts in rhythm. It feels less like television and more like you’ve stumbled into the coolest private jam session of the decade.
A Voice Reawakened
Vocally, Elvis sounds reborn.
There’s a playful swagger in the way he phrases the lyrics, teasing the beat instead of dominating it. He bends notes with a bluesman’s instinct, sliding between grit and smoothness in the same line. At times he half-speaks a lyric, at others he digs deep with a growling edge that recalls his Sun Records days.
Most importantly, he sounds like he’s having fun.
That joy had been missing from many of his earlier ’60s recordings, where studio polish often replaced spontaneity. Here, every line feels discovered in the moment. When he tosses a vocal ad-lib toward the band, they answer back in kind, creating a lively call-and-response energy that turns the performance into a conversation rather than a presentation.
The alternate take makes these interactions even clearer. Tiny timing differences, extra guitar licks, and subtle rhythmic pushes give the track a pulse that’s impossible to fake. It’s messy in the best way — human, immediate, real.
The Band That Brought the Heat
Elvis may have been the star, but this performance is a masterclass in musical chemistry.
The band locks into a relaxed but driving blues rhythm, giving Elvis room to roam while never letting the groove slip. The guitar work is sharp but restrained, offering stinging fills between vocal lines without overcrowding the space. The rhythm section keeps things simmering, never boiling over, which allows the tension to build naturally.
In the alternate cut, these instrumental nuances shine. You can hear the musicians reacting to Elvis in real time — stretching a measure here, tightening a phrase there. It’s a reminder that great live music isn’t about perfection; it’s about connection.
Why the Alternate Cut Matters
So why does this alternate version resonate so deeply with fans and historians alike?
Because it captures process, not just product.
The broadcast version was already powerful, but it was shaped for television. The alternate cut feels more like a document of a moment unfolding without safety nets. Elvis isn’t performing at the audience — he’s lost in the music, feeding off the band’s energy and giving it right back.
You can sense the stakes. This wasn’t just another gig. This was Elvis proving — maybe even to himself — that he still belonged at the center of rock & roll.
Every loosened phrase and spontaneous grin you can hear in his voice adds to that feeling of rediscovery. It’s the sound of an artist shaking off the dust and remembering exactly who he is.
A Cultural Turning Point
The ’68 Comeback Special didn’t just revive Elvis’s career — it reset the trajectory of rock history.
In an era dominated by the British Invasion and psychedelic experimentation, some had written Elvis off as a relic of the past. But performances like “Baby, What You Want Me To Do” reminded the world that rock & roll’s foundation was the blues — and Elvis still knew how to live inside that groove better than almost anyone.
The special paved the way for his powerhouse Las Vegas years and reestablished him as a serious live performer. Without this moment, the later triumphs might never have happened.
More Than a Cover
At its core, this performance is more than a reinterpretation of a Jimmy Reed blues tune. It’s a declaration of identity.
By choosing a raw, groove-driven song instead of a dramatic ballad or flashy rocker, Elvis was making a statement: This is where I come from. This is what moves me. The alternate cut underscores that authenticity, stripping away any remaining polish and leaving behind pure musical instinct.
You don’t just hear Elvis Presley the icon. You hear Elvis the musician — listening, reacting, playing.
The Magic of Imperfection
There’s a beautiful irony in the fact that what makes this alternate take so special are the very things that might once have been considered flaws: the looseness, the informal vibe, the sense that anything could happen.
Those elements give the performance life decades later. It doesn’t feel preserved in amber. It breathes.
For longtime fans, it’s a thrilling reminder of why Elvis first changed the world. For newer listeners, it’s an invitation to discover a side of him that’s rawer, riskier, and deeply rooted in the music that shaped modern rock.
Final Thoughts
Elvis Presley’s alternate-cut performance of “Baby, What You Want Me To Do” isn’t just a highlight of the ’68 Comeback Special — it’s one of the defining moments of his entire career.
It captures a legend in transition, shedding an old skin and stepping back into the fire of live performance with grit, humor, and undeniable soul. In just a few minutes of bluesy groove, Elvis didn’t simply entertain an audience.
He reclaimed his crown.