Still rocking ‘n’ rolling: A review of Porthcawl Elvis Festival

Pierre Donahue

The Porthcawl Elvis festival, now in its 21st year, has grown to become the biggest festival of its type in the world. 40,000 fans flock there every September over four days to celebrate the man, myth, legend and of course, music of the king of rock n roll.

Why Porthcawl you might ask? Well – why not? That seems to be more the case. It may not come as a surprise to know that Elvis had no direct connection to this small Welsh seaside resort, although there are whispers that some of his ancestors may have come from Wales. But the town has taken him to its heart and becomes Elvis central every year. During the festival it’s a sea of wigs, gold rimmed sunglasses, Elvis t-shirts and of course- most unmistakably- that iconic white jumpsuit. It’s very kitsch and all done in good humour

However beyond the light hearted fun and behind the boozy, rather tacky, beachside resort style glitz, there is clearly a genuine love of, and reverence for, the music of Elvis Presley. That’s an important point. For some this is serious stuff, and this is embodied by the main event – the Elvis Tribute Artist’s or ETA’s themselves. Whilst not all of the same standard, shape, age, ethnicity or even gender (yes there are now female ETA’s too!), what unites them is their passion, their dedication, and above all, their respect for the king.

Occasionally one stands out, and through their moves and mannerisms, just for a fleeting moment, you get a tiny glimpse of what it must have been like to see the man himself. That’s the magic of a good one. For me, that moment came when I saw Jamie Warren – winner of Best Welsh Elvis 2024 – at the Hi Tide.

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Dressed in a slick black jumpsuit, Jamie stepped on stage, with a cheeky grin and a distinct Welsh lilt. His presence was undeniable – confident, charismatic, full of warmth. He soon had the entire audience singing along.

Then came the climax – American Trilogy. A hush fell, and by the time the final chorus soared, the room was on its feet, hearts full, voices raised, the walls echoing with a passion that felt more than just nostalgia.

I was singing too. We are all swept up in the shared joy of the performance. The room erupts at its sweaty conclusion. This isn’t about just dressing up – it’s about remembering the enduring power of a man, who, almost 50 years after his death, is still bringing people together through the power of his music.

I have to admit to having to wipe away a few tears as we walk back out into the Porthcawl sunshine. Elvis may have left the building, and planet Earth, back in 1977, but his spirit, and music, is very much alive in Porthcawl, South Wales.