There's always something unique about Elvis in every era. Something tangible and otherworldly.
In the mid sixties, at least to me, he's so beautiful it takes my breath away.
It's a soft, delicate kind of beauty that, coupled with that sparkle in his eyes almost doesn't make him seem real. How could one person be THAT pretty?
In the late sixties, that delicate pretty evolved into smoking hot.
I know a lot of his looks and style was intentional as he evolved as a performer, but damn, he fully embraced it as though creating the definition of the words themselves.
I know he doesn't like to be called "King," but he truly does have a regal, magnificent presence throughout the seventies.
It's not so much that his image is up on a pedestal as it is he's earned the title.
Every time I watch Aloha, it's all I see.
He's tired, exhausted, probably starving and STILL he radiates a presence so powerful, I swear you could reach out and touch it.
And at the end of his life, when he's aching and run down, you can see all of these different stages on his face, in those eyes... and hear it in that immortal voiceā¤ļøāš©¹
