Let's End the Plastic Wave

Are you a Tennessee builder who becomes Elvis at night, or an Elvis who happens to build houses by day?

I wish I could say that it’s one way or the other but I find both extremely rewarding. They are actually interconnected in surprising ways as we utilize our tribute shows as fundraisers for our foundation that assists youths in [the] pursuit of trade careers like electrical, plumbing, etc.

What does each of your two professions give you that the other one doesn’t? 

They are surprisingly similar in that they both allow a certain creative outlet and from perhaps an ego standpoint, you receive praise from your respective audiences. I’ve always loved music but had gotten away from it for many years so the tribute shows are a chance to really embrace that passion. 

Do you feel like your personality, mannerisms, and facial expressions change when you dress up as Elvis? Do you have your own style or is it Elvis’s?  

Elvis had a ton of really unique mannerisms that I try to emulate while performing but invariably my personality and own mannerisms still show—sometimes more than I prefer to see when I watch myself back. But the crowds love our shows; they say the fun I have is infectious. I love hearing that. I share that with Elvis. He was living his best life while performing. Truth be told, I much prefer watching Elvis than listening to him and it’s because that fun and energy really is really is contagious.  

At what point does studying an icon become something closer to devotion?  

I think it’s when studying someone stops being about simply learning what they do and becomes about understanding who they are. I spend a lot of time watching and listening to him, practicing in the mirror, taping every rehearsal. There’s his voice, which I try to replicate as closely as possible and of course the Southern accent. I’m thankful that those things have come pretty naturally to me for most of my life. But then there are the movements, the mannerisms, the way he carries himself. At a certain point, it becomes less about imitation and more about trying to inhabit the person. It really becomes as much of an acting performance as it is a musical one.

Do you feel that your Muse protects you, or are you the one protecting his memory?  

I think I’m the one protecting his memory, although in a way, he protects me too. I’ve had the privilege of knowing people who knew Elvis personally and they’ve given me a much more human picture of him—complex and imperfect, but also incredibly humble, funny, spiritual, generous and kind.

I think a lot of people only know the caricature of Elvis, particularly the later years, and miss how extraordinary he was at his peak. 

So, I feel a responsibility to remind people of the person behind the icon—not to make him perfect, but to make sure his complexity and humanity aren’t forgotten.

How do you earn the loyalty of an audience when you are stepping into someone else’s legacy?  

It can definitely be a challenge. But when people see that you’re not being cheesy, that you genuinely respect the legacy and are putting everything you have into getting it right, they recognize that. You earn their respect, and eventually they become fans not only of Elvis, but of what I do with his legacy. 

Do you ever feel that your own identity disappears sometimes? 

Not really. For instance, when I speak, I use my own voice. I can talk like Elvis, but I choose not to, because I’m not pretending to be him. I’m paying tribute to him. There’s a real difference in the intention, and ultimately in what you create.

Would you consider impersonating Elvis a form of theater? 

1000%. If you’re doing it right, it’s theater in every sense. There’s the costume, hair and makeup, instruments, mannerisms, facial expressions, movement, and of course the voice. You’re building a character from the ground up. When all of those elements come together, it’s every bit as much a theatrical performance as any other production.

What happens when the two versions of you meet?  

They play nice together. In all seriousness, I think most of us are multifaceted. Even Elvis, he’s started out as a blue collar guy before becoming the world’s biggest star.