Photograph by Dilip Vishwanat
The first thing you need to know about Bill Cherry is that he isn’t the real Elvis Presley. And that can be stated with certainty, because Elvis—at least as far as most people are concerned—left the building called Earth more than 30 years ago. But the King made such an indelible impression that he inspired a wave of impersonators. It was more like an ocean at various points. Even well-known performers, ranging from Kurt Russell to Andy Kaufman, tried their hand at the Elvis microphone. Not only is Cherry the best entertainer of their number to ever don the iconic jumpsuit, he also used to wear one that had a blue collar. This is no show-business insider.
“I’m a welder by trade,” he says. “I worked in Granite City at the steel foundry.” After a massive layoff, Cherry found himself with a pink slip in hand, which may actually have been his ticket to success. When the economy went south, Cherry did, too—but only geographically. Using the extra time to put the finishing touches on his Elvis performance, he proceeded to weld himself to the icon’s legacy.
“I won the 2009 Ultimate Elvis Tribute Artist Contest preliminary round in Tupelo, Miss., which is where Elvis was born,” he says. “I went from there to Memphis, and then I won the Ultimate contest.” In the process, Cherry beat out some of the best pretenders to the throne of the King. But his dream wasn’t realized overnight. “Ever since I can remember,” he says, “I’ve been an Elvis fan. My parents were Elvis fans. We only had maybe three of his albums, but that’s all it took. I would sing along with the records when there was nobody in the room.” Then Cherry got discovered. “My parents walked in on me while I was singing,” he recalls. “I was busted. It was embarrassing.”
Cherry may have been young, but his talent was King-sized. Before long, he was selling out the house. “We would do little mock shows,” he says. “We would invite some family members over, they’d sit on the couch, and we’d kill all the lights in the living room. My dad would stand in the corner of the room with a flashlight. I’d come out from the hallway, with my hair colored black, and do a little Elvis show.” It wasn’t quite Vegas, but what happened in Cherry’s living room stayed in Cherry’s living room—at least for a while. These days, the venues are bigger. “I never dreamed at that time that I could do what I’m doing now,” he beams. “I had no idea what a tribute artist was.” Though he’s barely heard of in the St. Louis area, his home turf, Cherry’s tributary gyrations have made the rounds.
“I did the Sunrise TV show in Australia; it’s their version of a morning show,” he explains. “And I just had a radio interview with England yesterday. To be known in the Elvis world like that is mind-boggling to me.” He speaks with a tone of better-pinch-myself excitement. “It’s really wild,” Cherry adds, “because I’m just me.” (Actually, he’s sort of Elvis, too.) Cherry, who happens to be in his mid-forties, grew up with the 1970s Elvis, so it’s that incarnation— minus the extra pounds—that’s become the reference point for his act.
“You have people who really like the ’50s Elvis, and this and that,” he says, “but when it gets down to the nitty-gritty, they still want to see that jumpsuit.” It’s a jumpsuit that Cherry had to grow into. Now, at last, it fits like a dream. “It’s kind of like when you’re a kid,” he observes. “You want to be Superman, so you run around the house with a cape tied onto your neck.” He pauses, as if to rescue a thought. “And in my case, it was Elvis.”
Bill Cherry performs at the Madison County Fireman’s Hall in Collinsville, Ill., on April 3 at 7 p.m. To see more performance dates—and more photos—visit him online at myspace.com/williamcherry.
