Tom Balistreri Songwriter · Guitarist · Poet · Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Tom Balistreri was born on March 7, 1954, on the south side of Pittsburgh — into a home where music was always playing. Opera, folk, show tunes, classical — his family embraced it all. His father had a fine singing voice, and after dinner the family would gather around the table to sing together, seeing who could hold a note the longest. Good training, Tom says, for later in life.
He wrote his first song before he can remember writing it. The first performance he does remember was in the Cub Scouts — an original song that brought the house down. From there it was school plays, junior high productions, and by high school a full rock band called Riot, playing progressive rock at social halls and teen dances across Pittsburgh.
The Band Years
After graduation came a string of pickup bands, and then at nineteen, Toast — a hard rock outfit that pressed a record and landed on local jukeboxes in Bridgeville, Pennsylvania. That led to Estamira, a versatile club band playing top forty and standards, working their way toward the better rooms. To play the hotels, they needed a show. Tom had an idea.
"People used to tell me I sounded a little like Elvis. So I said — let's build a show around that."
This was the fall of 1977 — before the age of the professional Elvis impersonator. Tom wasn't trying to be one. He thought of himself more like an actor in a play. He came out dressed a little like Elvis, sang a set of his songs, and the crowds responded warmly. Then in August of 1978, Elvis died.
Overnight, everything changed. The tri-state area turned its attention to Tom. Local television came calling. Bookings exploded. Traffic backed up for miles outside the clubs. People didn't want Tom's own material anymore — they wanted Elvis. Tom spent years fighting against the label, never comfortable calling himself an impersonator. A difficult position to maintain, he admits, when you're dressed in a jumpsuit singing Elvis songs. But he held his artistic ground as best he could, and the chapter lasted nearly a decade.
The Audition
In 1978, George Klein — a lifelong personal friend of Elvis from the very beginning — was producing a major motion picture called The King of Rock and Roll and holding open auditions in New York City. Tom flew up and walked into a theater alongside three hundred other hopefuls, most of them in full Elvis jumpsuits. Tom wore his regular clothes.
Each performer got one song with the house band. Tom chose Jailhouse Rock and danced the way Elvis had in the 1950s. At the end of the auditions, out of all three hundred men in that theater, Tom was the only one the producers called back to the stage to perform a second song. He was the leading contender for the lead role.
The film was never made. A television movie starring Kurt Russell came out around the same time and killed the project. It was, Tom says simply, an opportunity that went out the window.
A Life After the Spotlight
Eventually Tom stepped away from the Elvis show, joined a country band as a bass guitarist, and opened for Eddie Rabbitt, Barbara Mandrell, the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Bill Anderson, and many others. Then he met his wife, got married, and in 1988 made a decision that mattered more to him than any booking — he stepped back from the road to raise a family. He continued performing occasionally on Christian television and sang briefly with a Southern gospel quartet, but the touring years were largely behind him.
Today
Around 2013, with the internet opening new stages, Tom began releasing music again — original songs, old standards, new recordings. The response reminded him why he started. After retiring from his day job, he returned to performing live alongside his son, playing select clubs and local events to warm audiences.
Today Tom is writing more original songs than at any point in his life. Several have been recorded by other local artists. His music is rooted in Christian faith — Orthodox in character, honest in expression — and ranges from gospel hymns to acoustic folk to the occasional standard, with poetry woven throughout. The south side of Pittsburgh is a long way behind him. The music never stopped.