I find this story highly amusing.
Nevada has become the latest US state to make it illegal for musicians to falsely claim they are connected to well-known groups.
Perhaps that’s to be expected, but here’s the funny part:
Maxine Porter, manager for original Drifter Bill Pinkney, said: “In a town like [Las Vegas], where you have a constant flow of tourists, this is a place where people expect to have authenticity.
Eh? Vegas is a place where people expect authenticity? Elvis, for example, is a complex case:
The darling of Vegas, the real Elvis himself, was arguably just a tribute act, if not an outright impostor. Prejudice helped facilitate denial of any connection to the well-known (black) groups and artists that he emulated, so it raises interesting questions of how we come to terms with authenticity of an act.
While Elvis rocketed to stardom, resentment grew among talented musicians whose similar-sounding records weren’t getting the same play. The hip swiveling that merely disgusted conservative whites amounted to theft for blacks. More than one player laid claim to Elvis’ gimmicks.
Blues shouter Wynonie ‘Mr. Blues’ Harris told Sepia: “I originated that style 10 years ago. The current crop of shouters are rank impostors. They have no right to call themselves the kings of rock and roll. I am the king of rock and roll.”
In the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, guitarist Calvin New born said Elvis hung out in a black bar outside Memphis where he played. “He would sit there and watch me every Wednesday and Friday night,” he said. “I’d wiggle my legs and swivel my hips and make love to the guitar.”
In 1956, the Amsterdam News said Elvis had “copied Bo Diddley’s style to the letter.”
[…]
“The Elvis that died wasn’t the same Elvis that was coming up”, Chuck D said. “They said he was king. Based on who and what? Based on the quality of the people judging or the quality of his music? What does ‘King of Rock and Roll’ mean growing up in a black household? My Chuck Berry records are still in my house. Little Richard is still in the house. Otis Redding and James Brown. The King of what?”
Certainly not the King of authenticity, but perhaps the King of Vegas.