Got a lot o' livin' to do!

Paul Martin used to stick his sideburns on with Evostick and Velcro before graduating to the real thing. "It gave me an instant facelift," he says.

Now he wears two permanent furry slabs on his face, dyed, like his carefully-coiffed hair, a strange shade of bluey black.

Nearby, in the darkened bar of the Queen's Hotel, Blackpool, England, are other men dressed like him in tight white, rhinestone-studded jumpsuits and equipped with the same strange facial furniture. They sit or stand in huddled groups, drinking Boddington's and smoking Embassy No 1.

When his turn comes, each man mounts the small stage in the corner and strikes his opening pose. The pre-recorded music starts and he is no longer in a hotel in tacky Blackpool in January 2006 but standing in front of an audience of hundreds at Caesar's Palace circa 1971.

Long live the King

He is no longer Dave or Mike or Melvyn, but Elvis, the King at the height of his powers.
Elvis, Elvis, Elvis. Everywhere in the hotel over the weekend there was an Elvis: in the lift, in the car park, in the lavatory. There were Elvises rehearsing in the lobby and Elvises sitting with their wives and children in the lounge watching Elvis in Blue Hawaii.

There were even Elvises taking a stroll outside on the forlorn Golden Mile, cold, deserted, terminally out of season.

Some 50 contestants from Britain, Norway, Poland, the Czech Republic and Israel attended the European Elvis Convention 2006, the aim of which was to find the most convincing Elvis impersonator. Except that you must never refer to them as Elvis impersonators; they are Elvis Tribute Acts, or ETAs.

Most are lovely, a few rather vain and some unhinged. You can tell the ones who are bonkers by the fact that they remain in role even after finishing the act.

Jumpsuit happy

Heats to select the 15 finalists began last Thursday. For hour after hour they performed, uh-uh-ing into the microphone, striking poses, curling their lips and sweating profusely. Many make a good living from being Elvis, singing Are You Lonesome Tonight? at weddings, anniversaries and corporate events. Others are rubbish.

Start-up costs are not inconsiderable: an Elvis white jumpsuit can cost up to £1,500 (about Dh10,000). The jumpsuit is the favourite costume for most of the ETAs, although a few prefer the black leathers of Elvis's 1968 return to the stage after years of making lucrative but generally naff films.

Larry Hassall, a Nantwich lorry driver (stage name L A Ray), is a generously proportioned Elvis. Trinny and Susannah would probably have advised against a white jumpsuit, but he is not bothered about that.

Energetic

"I'm not as good-looking as Elvis but a good act is about energy, Elvis had lots of that, and that amazing charisma," he said.
Martin, a specialist welder from Warwick, said: "It takes a lot of work, studying DVDs to get the moves and getting that Elvis vibrato right. You can have someone who is brilliant but then you switch on the DVD, watch the real thing and realise that no one, no one comes close."

As every Elvis fan tries to forget, the King's reign ended on August 16, 1977. Heart failure is a kind way of describing his terminal malady.

The poor boy from Tupelo, Mississippi, was a prodigious eater towards the end of his life, famously flying from Memphis to Denver in his private jet to get his hands on a batch of 22 "Fool's Gold" (peanut butter, jelly and bacon) sandwiches. Another favourite was a super-sandwich containing a life-threatening 10,000 calories.

The winner

And the winner of the European Elvis Convention 2006? A Norwegian, actually. Kjell H Bjornestad, from Lyngdal, south of Oslo, put on a spectacular show in the Horseshoe Bar to secure victory.

Earlier he could be heard complaining about how he had to fight the women off. "For a European competition, this was not so good," he said. "Only one or two were strong vocally."

On Sunday, to mark what would have been Elvis's 71st birthday, the contestants, reinforced by veteran Elvises, gathered for a mass performance of Viva Las Vegas.

Then of course there are always those who believe that he is still alive. "Why are some rooms at Graceland always locked?" one asked. "If you were an idol, would you want to be seen in public old and grey?" said another. "Who saw the body and why did his wife never remarry?"

In the hearts of those who gathered for four days in that hotel on the edge of the freezing Irish Sea, the King will reign for ever.