He Don't Look Like Elvis is a rock and roll memoir from 1978, the year after Elvis left the building for good. It's the unflinching, tragicomic true tale of the author, a bass player, who took a chance and joined Bobby Love and the Love Machine, an Elvis impersonator band at the low end of the food chain. This is definitely not the pampered, plush, rock-star tour deluxe. No jets from city to city, no waiting limousines, no caviar in the dressing rooms. No dressing rooms. They play in dive bars, stay in low-rent motels in small towns, lug their own equipment and pray the pickup truck and trailer get them to the next gig in one piece.The band members strive to maintain a straight face and an even keel in a traveling rock and roll fantasy circus. A fantasy fueled not only because Bobby and the band deliver some knockout performances but also because the fans can never get enough of the King - alive, dead or otherwise. Bobby isn't Elvis, but mob him anyway for scarves, autographs and kisses.As the reality of playing in bars and living on the road sinks in - they'll never make Vegas, let alone Japan - the author realizes it's time for a change.
He Don't Look Like Elvis is a rock and roll memoir from 1978, the year after Elvis left the building for good. It's the unflinching, tragicomic true tale of the author, a bass player, who took a chance and joined Bobby Love and the Love Machine, an Elvis impersonator band at the low end of the food chain. This is definitely not the pampered, plush, rock-star tour deluxe. No jets from city to city, no waiting limousines, no caviar in the dressing rooms. No dressing rooms. They play in dive bars, stay in low-rent motels in small towns, lug their own equipment and pray the pickup truck and trailer get them to the next gig in one piece.The band members strive to maintain a straight face and an even keel in a traveling rock and roll fantasy circus. A fantasy fueled not only because Bobby and the band deliver some knockout performances but also because the fans can never get enough of the King - alive, dead or otherwise. Bobby isn't Elvis, but mob him anyway for scarves, autographs and kisses.As the reality of playing in bars and living on the road sinks in - they'll never make Vegas, let alone Japan - the author realizes it's time for a change.
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