Tina Schlieske Photo by Liza Davitch The first time I saw Tina Schlieske perform back in the 1980s at the now-defunct Mississippi Live (at St. Anthony Main), she struck me as the first woman I'd seen who sang rock 'n' roll like a man. The rest of the world never got it. They will if they see Tina's Elvis. The show that Tina put on Friday night at the Cabooze suggests that she is the new King. Tina's not trying to be Elvis. She's not an Elvis impersonator. She takes his songs and delivers them her way, backed by Trailer Trash, a three-man horn section and three female singers. Having gone to see Dr. John and the Lower 911's late show Friday at the Dakota (it simmered but never really cooked), I arrived shortly after the second set of Tina's Elvis started. She'd already covered his 1950s and '60s songs; the final segment was all about the '70s. (Remember Elvis Presley died on Aug. 16, 1977; that's why Tina did her show this week.) No matter which band she fronts, Tina sings every song like it's the night's finale, pointed out my friend Charlie, who witnessed both Friday's 75-minute opening set and the 90-minute closer. Like Bruce Springsteen, she sings every song like it's the last song she'll ever sing. Didn't matter if it was a cheesy Elvis song or a full-tilt rocker, she poured every ounce of her soul into each and every number. And she pulled off the cheesy stuff with just the right sense of irony and rocked with abandon on "Burning Love" and others, all with a Southern-fried voice that suggested Shelby Lynne on steroids. Wearing a silver lame sportcoat, white pants and shirt, and a classic David Cassidy hairdo, Tina delivered covers – including "Polk Salad Annie," "Bridge Over Troubled Water" and "I Just Can't Help Believing'" – with more conviction than Elvis did. She cleverly used Ray Charles' "What'd I Say" as a vehicle in which to introduce her most excellent band members. (Loved the backup singers.) Tina had just enough Elvis mannerisms and moves to suggest the King but did not belabor them like an impersonator might. She added her touch to his sense of humor, especially when introducing "Moody Blue" by saying "before anyone else, he sang about PMS." And she had the crowd singing along on the hits (especially "Suspicious Minds") and dancing to both the fast and slow numbers. If Tina'd ended with "Can't Falling in Love" (which Elvis always closed with) instead of "That's Alright, Ma," it would have been perfect. Then, she could have exited properly and bandleader Nate Dungan could have announced: "Tina's Elvis has left the building." Tina -- who grew up in Apple Valley, launched her career in the Twin Cities (remember Tina & the B-Sides?) and now lives in Santa Barbara – should take this show to Las Vegas. That's where she could find the kind of sizable audience that the new King deserves. Viva Tina's Elvis!