Look, I get that time rolls on and that nostalgia kills. I get it, I do. Your average millennial is not all that concerned with rock n’ roll in general, nevermind who the “King” of the greatest American art form of all time is, or was. But I do. It’s Elvis. Elvis Presley is still the fucking King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. And all I have wanted for the past ten years is an Elvis bust that looks enough like him that I don’t have to explain why I’ve got a statue of, like, a generic fat guy with greasy hair in my living room.
Back in the 70s, before he gasped his last pill-shoveling breath on his golden toilet, Elvismania was at its apex. Most American homes had some evidence of Elvis worship, be it a crying Elvis black velvet painting, a ‘68 “Comeback Specal” commemorative ashtray, an Elvis Golden Hits box set, or a giant gaudy Elvis bust. My Canadian uncle Al had one of the latter, a memorial ‘77 Chalkware edition rushed out shortly after his death. That particular model became the standard-bearer. They even made a lamp out of it. It didn’t really look like Elvis, but you got the drift with the scarf, at least.
Elvis(?) lights the way
There were many others before and after, some as recent as the late 90s. Some are even animatronic. None of them capture the essence of the man who was, lest we forget, as close to a God as any American has ever gotten. I’ve been searching for a decent Elvis bust for years, but so far it’s been a disaster. Here’s a few of the travesties I’ve encountered.
Creepy 50s greaser with jaundice making duckface for a selfie, or the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll?
Grumpy old neighbor Elvis wants you to move your car
More Elvi (that’s plural) after the jump…