Review of concert from 2002-07-16: Melbourne, Concert Hall -
with Imposters Beat, 2002-07-16
Beat, 2002-07-24
- Shane Moritz
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pic by Jake Knowacowski |
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ELVIS COSTELLO AND THE IMPOSTERS
Melbourne Concert Hall
For two rare evenings fast week, the Melbourne Concert Hall was the
A-list refuge for Melbourne's art-damaged forty something hipsters.
These cats dusted off the black leather and descended in droves. The
normally sedated Melbourne Concert Hall became instantly cool by association.
They had turned up for a performance by The Imposters, a band led by
Elvis Costello, the illustrious hitmaker, who in an ironic twist, never
made many bits. However he did lose his virginity during the whole punk
whohaw, and ever since that first glorious record (1977's Less than
Zero), he has showed himself to be a proletariat of the pen, musically
adventurous, and determined to pursue every creative impulse that pumps
through his pores. The five hours over two nights. hardly hinted at
the amazing breadth of Mr. CostelIo's four-decade oeuvre. Needless to
say, the black-clad hipsters were not disappointed. Did I mention that
his voice has aged better than Hugh Grant?
The band opened with 45, the frisky opener off When I was Cruel, the
refreshingly raucous new album. The first taste of the back catalog
came third with Watching the Detectives. On the first night, Elvis dipped
repeatedly into his tenacious 1977-80 period, an artistic streak regarded
by many as one of the most vibrant in popular music.
Both nights were packed tight with slow-burning epics, songs that unfolded
languidly before growing a spiky menace. This affect was achieved through
Stove Nieve's keyboard wizardry and Costello's baritone guitar. Nieve
simply transported When I was Cruel and Watching the Detectives into
new, far-reaching dimensions, creating sounds I had never heard before.
For kicks, Nieve brought along a theremin, an obscure instrument that
produces equally obscure sounds. I won't try, and explain how the bizarre
thing works (I'm confused myself), but I will say it was the band's
secret weapon. When we learned that it would not be a part of the band's
set the following night, we mourned.
The crowd on Wednesday night again looked spectacularly decadent, as
it they had just returned from a weekend in Jay Mclnernerney's hot tub.
Everywhere you turned, gaunt cheekbones glowed like sunburned peaches
(open to interpretation), Apart from the eternally scruffy Trevor Marmalade,
I was the only person wearing white sneakers (a small crisis I am currently
dealing with).
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pic by Jake Knowacowski |
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Elvis dressed in black. His jeans wore rugged. He removed his jacket
once. He shuffled around six guitars, one was acoustic; the other five
took hard, regular doses of reverb, a critical component to the latest
album's success, His yellow- tinted spectacles couldn't decide if they
wanted to be Oakleys or uber-cool John Cafe wraparounds. From a distance
they invited comparisons to Bono, which is a compliment to Sono, l assure
you. Three issues disturbed me about the Concert Hall, Firstly, no alcohol
was permitted inside. Now this should unnerve anyone who depends on
the heavenly marriage of booze and amplified rhythm, Secondly, the balcony
acoustics kidnapped the guitar sound. Where was it? It was muffled and
AWOL, Thirdly, there is this great paradox called watching live rock
and toll in a seat. Might I add that yes, the seats were probably conducive
to the older crowd's weary bones, but it's still maddening, especially
when drummer Pole Thomas is staring down a rhythm and there's no choice
but to bounce restrictively in your scat But these are only minor points;
the music is what matters I am not sure if the girl next to me went
by the name Alison, all I know is when the band started playing those
familiar opening chords; she started to weep tearfully.
Radio, Radio kicked oft the second encore. This triggered an excited
bum rush to the stage front. A blazing, new wave retrospective followed:
Miracle Man, Lipstick Vogue, Accidents Will Happen, Oliver's Army, What
So Funny About (Peace Love and Understanding) Mystery Dance and finally,
Pump it Up. Simply amazing Both nights ended with I want you, a repugnant
guile epic about either an obsessive fan or an obsessive rock singer.
Either way, I nominate Robert Do Niro to star in the movie version.
SHANE MORITZ