Just Pretend’: A Captivating Album Track by Elvis Presley from 1970

Introduction

Full view

“Just Pretend” is a song recorded by Elvis Presley and released on his 1970 album That’s the Way It Is.

– It was written by Guy Fletcher and Doug Flett.
– The lyrics portray someone asking their lover to “just pretend” that their relationship is still strong, even if the feelings have faded.
– Elvis first performed the song live in Las Vegas in 1970. It was never released as a single, but appeared on the That’s the Way It Is album.– “Just Pretend” shows Elvis’ smooth vocals and country/pop blend. Music critics noted it was a strong album track.
– Though not as famous as hits like “Suspicious Minds”, “Just Pretend” is considered one of Elvis’ better later-career recordings that deserves more recognition.
– Elvis only performed the song live during his 1970 Vegas season. It was never a concert staple once Elvis returned to touring in the 1970s.
– The most famous live version is from the That’s The Way It Is documentary/album from 1970

Video

Lyric

Let’s sing along with the lyrics!

Just pretend, I’m holding you
And whispering things soft and low
And think of me, how it’s gonna be,
Just pretend I didn’t go
When I walked away, I heard you say
If you need me, you know what to do
I knew it then, I’d be back again
Just pretend I’m right there with you

And I’ll come flying to you, again
All the crying is true
Oh, I will hold you and love you again
But until then, we’ll just pretend

Oh, it’s funny but I can’t recall the things
We said or why you’re crying
But now I know it was wrong to go
I belong here by your side

You Missed

LORETTA LYNN HAD FOUR CHILDREN BEFORE SHE TURNED TWENTY. NASHVILLE HAD NOT HEARD HER NAME, BUT THE SONGS WERE ALREADY STARTING IN THE KITCHEN. Loretta Webb was fifteen when she married Oliver “Doolittle” Lynn. He was a war veteran from Kentucky. She was a coal miner’s daughter from Butcher Hollow who had barely been away from the hills where she grew up. Not long after the wedding, they left for Custer, Washington — a logging town far from Appalachia, far from Nashville, and far from any place that looked like a music career. Loretta was pregnant with her first child when they arrived. By the time she was twenty, she had four children. There were diapers, laundry, meals, bills, and a small house crowded with the ordinary work of keeping a young family alive. Doolittle worked. Loretta worked at home. Nobody was waiting in Nashville for a woman with four little children and no record deal. Then Doolittle bought her a guitar. It was a seventeen-dollar Sears guitar. Loretta did not know many chords. She learned them one at a time. She played around the house, then at local clubs, then wherever somebody would let her stand near a microphone long enough to prove she could sing. The songs came from the life she already had. They came from women who worked all day and still had to deal with a husband coming home drunk. Women who had babies too young. Women who knew what it felt like to be left behind, talked down to, cheated on, or expected to smile anyway. Loretta did not need Nashville to invent those women for her. She had grown up around them. In 1960, she recorded “I’m a Honky Tonk Girl.” Doolittle helped press the records, mail them, and drive from station to station trying to get disc jockeys to listen. The song became a hit. Then came Nashville. Then “Success.” “You Ain’t Woman Enough.” “Don’t Come Home a-Drinkin’.” “Coal Miner’s Daughter.” But the real beginning was earlier. It was a young mother in Washington State, with four children in the house and a cheap guitar close enough to reach after the work was done.

10 STUDIO ALBUMS. 13 COMPILATIONS. MILLIONS OF RECORDS SOLD. BUT BEHIND COUNTRY MUSIC’S GREATEST DUET HID A BOND THAT EVEN DEATH COULD NOT SILENCE. For decades, Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn ruled the Nashville charts. When they stepped up to the microphone to sing “Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man,” the chemistry was so electric that fans swore they were witnessing a real-life romance. They were the undisputed king and queen of the country duet, delivering fiery hits with a gaze that could melt an arena. But the truth offstage was far more profound. They weren’t hiding a scandalous love affair; they were building an unbreakable, platonic devotion. Through the chaotic machinery of the music industry, they became each other’s safest harbor. It wasn’t just about perfectly timed harmonies; it was about late-night conversations, shared laughter in dressing rooms, and a trust that never wavered. When Conway passed away suddenly, that harmony was broken. Loretta didn’t just lose a singing partner; she lost the brother she never had. For years, she had to stand on those stages alone, singing their songs while the silence of his absence echoed in the room. Today, as fans remember Conway’s heavenly birthday, the sorrow of his departure is replaced by the warmth of what they left behind. Conway and Loretta are both gone now, reunited somewhere beyond the stage lights. But drop a needle on one of those old records, and they are instantly alive again. Every duet needs its echo. And as long as country music exists, theirs will never fade.