My brother played guitar in a country band. I got sacked as singer because everything I did sounded like Elvis. I became an impersonator and since then I've always thought if you're going to do it, do it right. The replica costumes can cost up to £3,000. Some would try to do it on the cheap to make money. There are even ones who have plastic surgery. I want a nose job but that's for me; I'm not going to take in a picture of Elvis.

The moment you win over an audience is special. When I start with All Shook Up I suss them out, see who might be trouble. Other than performing, the rest of the job is pretty crap. It can be a sad, lonely life. Most of the adoration is to Elvis's credit, not mine. Twenty minutes after the performance I'm back to reality in the car, on my own, heading home.

Elvis wasn't happy. I can turn it off. He couldn't turn Elvis off. I never sing at home, in the car, in the shower. Happiness for me is security. It's knowing bills are paid and my two kids are comfortable. Money is the root of most unhappiness, even for Elvis impersonators.

I'm worried I don't have a fallback when I reach 50 and can't be Elvis. Once I stop I don't have a career as such. I had an Elvis theme bar that didn't work out. Now I run an agency for other Elvises. Some people think the Elvis thing is going to carry on forever. That would make me happy but it might not happen. I'm just happy I'm not a Gary Glitter impersonator.