Jimmy Ekho of Iqaluit, known to many as Arctic Elvis, died June 10 of lung failure. He was 48.
He was no near look-alike for Elvis Presley, as a diminutive Inuk with a whispy moustache, long hair and no sideburns.
But that didn’t matter once he donned his big, tinted glasses and his sealskin jumpsuit, complete with flared pants and an oversized collar.
On stage, he would wiggle his hips and strike the same dramatic poses as Elvis as he sang and strummed an acoustic guitar. The crowd, remembers Dave Boileau, who played keyboard with Ekho for two years, “would go absolutely nuts.”
A true folk singer, Ekho sang entirely in Inuktitut and had little sympathy for better-known Inuit musicians who chose to perform in English.
His best-known song was a spirited rendition of “Be-Bop-A-Lula,” a rockabilly hit that was not, in fact, written by Elvis, but by Gene Vincent.
Ekho began performing at coffee houses in Iqaluit in the early 1980s. As his popularity grew he went on to play concerts across Canada’s north, notably at Yellowknife’s Folks on the Rocks festival, and at shows around Nunavut and Nunavik.
His performing career was cut short by bad lungs. He had, since he was a small boy, suffered from lung problems, and they only grew worse after years of heavy smoking.
In recent years Ekho was left with so little breath he was unable to sing in front of a crowd - a big reason, friends say, why he appeared increasingly gloomy.
To many, Ekho was also the familiar face that greeted them when they stepped inside Nunatta Sunakkutaangit Museum, where he worked for many years as a guide.
At the desk where where Ekho usually sat, there remain piles of Elvis books, an Elvis poster, and stacks of CDs, which are, unsurprisingly, mostly Elvis albums, as well as music by his other musical hero, Rasmus Lyberth, who helped popularize Inuit music in Greenland.
Ekho often lamented how he wasn’t blessed with as good a voice as Lyberth.
But despite his vocal limitations, Ekho’s recordings show a broader emotional range than most Inuit music heard on CBC radio, which often veers towards being plodding and mournful. His music, while plaintive, has spring in its step.
In 1993 Ekho recorded a CD, Guti, in memory of a close friend, Tikivik King, who died of AIDS while Ehko held his hand.
It was recorded inside Nakasuk School - there was no other available venue - with the help of Boileau, who added ethereal keyboard effects to back Ekho’s singing and strumming. There is only the occasional cymbal or kick-drum effect for percussion. Ekho, accustomed to playing solo, had trouble following a drum track.
Copies of the CD may now be hard to come by, but a half-dozen of Ekho’s songs may be found at his personal web page, at http://www.bebo.com/ttyee.
The museum job allowed Ekho to endear himself to many visiting journalists and documentary producers, to whom he would market himself as Arctic Elvis. As a result, his name graced the New York Times, and he has appeared on television in Poland, Germany, and in Canada on the CBC.
He once tried to persuade a documentary maker to make a film of him visiting Graceland. The trip, and the film, unfortunately never happened.
Ekho’s sister, Mary Wilman, remembers how he was often sick as a child and had difficulty in school. But he always had big dreams.
He taught himself guitar, and, much to her surprise, managed to overcome a shy streak by getting up on stage.
His Bebo.com page states he was scared of “rap music” and happiest “when I’m in hiding.”
Ekho succesfully quit smoking in recent years and his health improved, until last winter, when his eldest son, Johnny, 22, committed suicide. Ekho resumed smoking shortly afterwards, and his health quickly declined.
Brian Lunger, who worked at the museum with Ekho, says he suspects Ekho had been living on “borrowed time.”
But Ekho always put a brave face on his deteriorating health. Last year he collapsed one day at work in the museum.
Upon returning he joked that, like Elvis, he had faked his death. A visit to the pharmacy would prompt jokes about similarities between him and Elvis in pill consumption.
Ekho’s Elvis costume was sewed by his adopted mother, Naki Ekho. He was buried in the oufit.
Ekho leaves his wife, Akeego, and eight children.