It wasn’t until recently that many rock bands were willing to play Vegas, as a result of what I call the Curse of Fat Elvis: a sense that playing here meant your career as a serious artist was over. But in the case of Elvis, who died 30 years ago this week, the music he recorded during his early years in Vegas was the most vital he would make in the years left to him. Later, after he became almost pathologically averse to recording studios, Vegas became the only place this deeply troubled man was still able to work. Perhaps it’s time to reassess the complex relationship between the King and the city where his image still dominates.