SHAKE, RATTLE, AND ROLLING OFF THE STIGMA: An Interview With Aaron Smith
- Allie West
- Mar 4
- 5 min read

Aaron Smith has been breaking in his blue suede shoes since he was seven years old. While most kids that age were just waiting for recess, Aaron was donning a powder blue jumpsuit and taking the stage at Charlie’s Drive-In. The catalyst? A viewing of That’s the Way It Is. One look at the King in his prime and Aaron was hooked, heart and soul.
Fast forward to four years ago: Aaron was discovered in Wisconsin by Johnny Z, the man who would become his manager and mentor. Together, they began the meticulous work of mastering the voice, the iconic silhouette, and that unmistakable stage presence required to bring Elvis back to life. Today, the work is non-stop. Aaron tours the country, often living out of a suitcase for two or three weeks a month. Naturally, I had to ask how he fends off the inevitable burnout of the road.
Aaron: I take time with my friends, but they also know when I need my time alone. I also go to Planet Fitness to work out.
Look, I wish I could be the kind of person that goes to the gym to unwind, but I am most definitely not. If I’m at the gym, I’m there against my will and you should alert the authorities.
Aaron recently returned from a pilgrimage to the desert (Las Vegas) where he had the opportunity to perform on stage at the International (now the Westgate Hilton). Standing in Elvis’s actual showroom, performing to a packed house, left him both awestruck and uncharacteristically rattled.

Aaron: I’ve never been so nervous in my entire life. That first opening night… I was shaking. A LOT. Waiting backstage and hearing that intro, then they told me to go on… I didn’t think I could. But I performed and competed and it was an incredible experience. You can’t get better than that.
In these interviews, I like to pull back the curtain on the lows as well as the highs. Aaron shared a story of an impromptu acoustic set that proved he has the chops even when the tech fails.
Aaron: I was doing a show and the sound went out. Until they could get the sound working again, we had to do it acapella. It was cool, though; it happened during “Sweet Caroline.”
Me: That’s an audience participation song if there ever was one. BAH-BAH-BAAAAAAAAH!
Aaron: SO GOOD! SO GOOD! SO GOOD!
I’m fairly certain that, as an American, it is a federal requirement to sing along to that track. If you have the willpower to stay silent during the "BAH-BAH-BAAH," you’re a stronger person than I am.

Being from Wisconsin and Kentucky, respectively, Aaron and I shared a laugh over the inevitable culture shock that comes with performing in places that don't have cornfields. He admitted the West Coast was overwhelming, and I’m right there with him. Coming from a small town, the sheer density of humans in one spot makes you feel like you’ve stepped onto a different planet.
Me: I live in a VERY small town; we don't have much in the way of public transportation. Trying to navigate Santa Monica on city buses was... an experience.
Aaron: How did you deal with it?
Me: Not very well.
When I ask tribute artists about their future, the answers usually fall into two camps: branching out into original music or chasing the "Ultimate" title. But Aaron’s mission is deeper.
Aaron: I have autism, and I wanted to do something unique with the Elvis brand. I decided to do the “Autistic Elvis.” I try to reach the community in the cities we play in and talk to people about their struggles and life stories. I want to inspire them and show them that there are people like us with those same struggles, and that you can still live an independent life with a disability.


Aaron doesn't just talk the talk; he collects donations and sells merchandise to raise autism awareness. But I had to ask the obvious: how does someone with sensory issues survive the sensory assault of a Vegas stage? For Aaron, the stage is actually his sanctuary. He describes performing as a form of therapy. When he slips into the role, the jumpsuit becomes a suit of armor; the character is a distraction from the blinding lights and the roar of the fans. He stressed, however, that you can't do it alone. You need people in your corner who understand your limits and can provide a support system when you need it. Aaron’s people include his manager, Johnny Z, his co-manager, Michelle Ann Dehn-Lemaide, and his ETA brothers Jim Barone, Rob Lutz, and Rick Lenzi. He said that he wouldn’t be where he is today without their support.
I really admire Aaron for sharing his story and showing everyone that a disability is not an inability. I wish I could claim credit for that quote, but it’s one I read online somewhere. I asked Aaron what advice and words of encouragement he had for people with disabilities who want to step into the spotlight.
Aaron: It’s gonna be hard. You’re going to have the stigma and the people who judge you. You’ll have people who pity you, but you can’t let that cloud your dreams. Surround yourself with solid people and just go for the stars, man. There’s a lot of ignorance out there. You’ll get a lot of “I’ll work with you because you’re disabled.” That kind of condescension makes me want to quit sometimes, but I know I can’t. It’s an emotional ride, and being a musician in general is difficult.
I'll admit, I wrestled with how to write this piece. I even confessed my dilemma to Aaron, who, in his typical gracious fashion, told me he trusted my judgment. No pressure, right? My struggle was finding the balance. While autism is a vital part of Aaron’s "brand" and his advocacy, he is so much more than a diagnosis. He is a powerhouse vocalist, a road warrior who grinds through lengthy tours, and a craftsman who has stood where the King himself once stood. To focus solely on his disability would be a disservice to the sheer amount of work he does every single day.
Ultimately, Aaron’s story isn't just about navigating the world with a diagnosis; it’s about a man who found a way to turn his greatest challenges into his brightest moments. Whether he’s singing acapella in a silent room or shaking off the nerves at the Hilton, he’s proving that the music sounds a little sweeter when you’re brave enough to be yourself. By sharing his journey so authentically, he’s clearing a path for the next kid in a powder blue jumpsuit who might feel "different" but still dreams of the spotlight. He’s proving that he isn't just "The Autistic Elvis"- he’s Aaron. And honestly? That is more than enough.
Aaron accepts donations here

By the way, I'd like to congratulate myself for making it through our entire interview without quoting Key and Peele. It was a struggle.
Aaron Smith is a dedicated Elvis Tribute Artist and advocate who has been honing his craft since the age of seven, inspired by a lifelong passion for the King’s legendary stage presence. Discovered in Wisconsin by his manager and mentor, Johnny Z, Aaron has transitioned from performing at local drive-ins to grace the iconic stage of the International Showroom in Las Vegas. Beyond his meticulous vocal work and national touring schedule, Aaron utilizes his platform to champion autism awareness through his "Autistic Elvis" mission. By sharing his personal journey of navigating the industry with sensory challenges, he serves as a powerful reminder that disability is not an inability, performing with a "suit of armor" that inspires others to chase their stars regardless of the obstacles in their path.



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