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It may seem like mere sentimentality at this late date, but when Elvis Aron Presley initially arrived on the scene, he was extreme. His unruly hair, his wigglin’ legs, and his unabashed singing of “race” music combined to place the Southern boy solidly outside of mainstream society. The King’s early television appearances were expressly limited to modest medium shots so that no wide-angle views of gyrating hips would be transmitted over the airwaves. So what of this Extreme Elvis person? It’s true that half a century later, the broadcasting of a breast still causes a commotion. Yet Presley was a legitimate breakthrough artist, and Extreme Elvis’ contribution to entertainment seems to be merely flabby, flaccid flesh and threats to shit on stage—territory GG Allin conquered long ago. Still, backed by a tight combo—complete with horn section, gal singers, and a sign-language interpreter—EE offers an enthusiastic interpretation of Presley’s post-Vegas bloated legend. Before the first song is over, the pants are down and Li’l E is out and shaking, too. When the drummer adds a rimshot to the proceedings, pantsless EE angrily attacks the kit. “Hey, fuck you, man! I’ll start the song when I fuckin’ start the song! You wanna start the song? I’ll start the song!” It’s Moon Over Graceland when Extreme Elvis (s)hits the stage with Hattattak at 8 p.m. Thursday, April 15, at DC 9, 1940 9th St. NW. $7. (202) 483-5000. (Dave Nuttycombe)