Living life as The King
By Ashley Wray – Maple Ridge News

Published: November 10, 2010 11:00 AM
Updated: November 10, 2010 11:21 AM

Morris Bates in his heyday as an Elvis impersonator.
Contributed

The drums pound and the horns blare.

“Ladies and gentleman – Morris as Elvis!” shouts the announcer.

Morris Bates walks down the staircase in the prestigious Empire Room at the Landmark in Las Vegas. The lights lift to reveal him in a white one-piece pantsuit and cape, sparkling with red, blue and gold jewels.

The black guitar strung across his chest pops against his shimming attire.

“I said see, see, see rider – Oh, see what you have done,” he sings, with one hand on the mic, his right leg moving to the bluesy beat.

His resemblance to Presley is striking – pompadour hair, gold chain, sweaty chest and all.

“It looks like I’m working hard,” laughs the 60-year-old Bates, watching the footage of himself performing 30 years ago.

The raw video was filmed as part of a documentary by the BBC called Elvis Lives.

Wearing a large crisp collar, a leather vest and a black fedora, Bates mouths the lyrics to the music on the TV – a seven-foot poster of himself in the background.

The Mission resident was hailed by Nevada critics as the best Elvis tribute act on the Vegas circuit since Presley’s death in 1977.

After 10 years – moving from The Silver Slipper, to the Landmark, to Vegas World – Bates earned the title of the longest-running Elvis performer and the second longest one-man show, next to Wayne Newton.

And as one of the first professional Elvis impersonators in the world, Bates performed the act in specific ’50s, ’60s and ’70s segments.

Growing up in Williams Lake on the Sugar Cane Reserve, Bates worked his way from back-up singer to front man in a variety of bands. In his early 20s, he did a satirical show called Elvis The Pelvis And His Cousin Enis.

He found his Elvis voice – from deep in his belly – while practising Rod Stewart’s Maggie May, trying to keep his voice down so he didn’t get kicked out of his apartment.

After throwing some Elvis tunes into a musical set, Bates started a ’50s revival show and went from making $500 a week to $3,500 a week.

By the time The King passed away, Bates had already spent four years perfecting his tribute show by studying photographs and watching Elvis perform on a five-inch Betamax TV.

Bates started in Vegas when he turned 28, with a gruelling three shows a night.

“We were just punk kids in Las Vegas, we weren’t ready,” he says with a laugh.

On the first anniversary of Elvis’s death, Bates performed on the Merv Griffin show, watched by 17 million people.

According to Bates, one of the things that set him apart from the other impersonators was his personality – he always remembered he was Morris Bates first and Elvis second.

“On stage it’s a theatre, backstage that’s me.”

That ability to differentiate is what messed up a lot of performers, he says.

With such a vigourous routine – two shows a night for 12 months a year, except Wednesdays – Bates’ vocal chords were starting to wear thin. He turned to nightly injections of cortisone to relieve the pain.

“I wasn’t allowed to speak in the daytime. I had to nod and I carried a pen and paper with me.”

He attributes his current raspy voice to old age and Jack Daniels, adding he can still reach for those tough notes.

After seven years of being Elvis on the strip, and three years performing at lounges in Vegas, the magic was gone.

“Elvis died at 42, so I thought then, maybe it was time to quit.”

He got into the karaoke business and became one of the pioneers in the industry, introducing the phenomenon to clubs. A few years later, he released the song Promised Land, an inspirational and controversial aboriginal chant, and later enrolled in a native youth worker training program at the Native Education Centre in Vancouver.

Working with the Vancouver Police and Native Liaison Society as a specialized victim assistance worker, Bates developed an aversion program called Reality Check for Indigenous People (R.I.P), sometimes known as Scared Straight. Looking back on what he has accomplished in his lifetime, it’s the chances he’s taken that stand out.

He hopes young people recognize that in an era without computers he was still able to live by his wits and accomplish something – and hopefully, that inspires them to do the same.

Book signing

Author Morris Bates is at the Maple Ridge library Thursday, Nov. 18 from 7 p.m. to 8:30 p.m. Morris as Elvis: Taking a Chance on Life is available at Chapters, Coles and Indigo stores or by emailing Bates at morrisbates@shaw.ca.