New York magazine, June 13, 1994
BRINGING IT ALL BACK HOME

By Christian Wright

"...Costello's and Byrne's records are both autobiographical. Both are
about getting older. Sound like a drag? Nah. They rock. . ."

Even if "Woodstock 2" weren't happening (and would that it weren't), this
would indeed be the summer of pop nostalgia. The Rolling Stones, Pink
Floyd, and the Eagles, for God's sake, are doing stadium tours. The bloated
arena schedule includes Crosby, Stills and Nash; the Doobie Brothers; the
Moody Blues; Emerson, Lake and Palmer; Steely Dan; and yes, Yes.

But before the legends wheel themselves in, before the sticky reminicence
begins, a couple of icons of a different generation (the hypothetical one
between Boom and X) are coming to town. Elvis Costello, with his former
cohorts the Attractions (from whom he split in 1986), plays Jones Beach
this Saturday night, June 11. And long-ago Talking Head David Byrne, who
has hooked up with a rock band once again, plays the Supper Club next
Wednesday and Thursday, June 15 and 16. In each case, it's a heady home
coming. Both New Yorkers--Byrne by Zip Code, Costello by sensibility- they
have long been championed by critics and intellectuals as the
thinking-man's rockers, their albums filed alongside works by John Ashbery
and Raymond Carver.

Lately, there has been much critical bleating about "returning to form" and
"getting back to basics" regarding their new records--Costello's Brutal
Youth (Warner Bros.) and Byrne's efficiently titled David Byrne (Luaka
Bop/Sire/Warner Bros.). But neither artist really seems to pine for a
misty-eyed visit to past glory. "I don't want to be all nervy and New Wavy
again," Costello said recently. Indeed, he's made a career of changing
musical styles more often than many of us change our sheets. The renewed
interest in simple rock and roll seems to have happened almost by accident
for both artists, another curve in their improbably parallel lives.

Elvis Costello and David Byrne simultaneously rushed through the door
opened by punk rock--Costello with My Aim Is True and Byrne with Talking
Heads 77--to introduce a distinct kind of smarty-pants dork rock on
respective sides of the Atlantic. Before that, Costello was Declan McManus,
a music enthusiast from Liverpool working as a computer programmer; Byrne
was an artist from Baltimore and the Rhode Island School of Design looking
for a medium. That was seventeen years ago. Byrne is now 42, Costello
almost 40. Both might have drifted off into obscurity; at times it looked
as if they would, Byrne with his Afto-Latin pop and Costello with his
chamber music (The Juliet Letters, recorded with the Brodsky Quartet).
Instead, they've endured--largely without hit singles, usually without
heavy rotation, and always without sticking cucumbers down their trousers
or making any other conspicuous attempt to stay rebellious and young.
They've even outgrown their dorkiness. They're dignified rockers now.

Through the late eighties and early nineties, both Byrne and Costello had
been very busy. Byrne, after outgrowing the Heads in 1988, became a musical
Renaissance man, tackling business (he started his own label, Luaka Bop),
video (he directed the clip for the new album's first single, "Angels"),
film, dance scores, and soundtracks (he won an Oscar for The Last Emperor).
Costello produced, composed, covered Kurt Weill, set a Yeats poem to music,
learned to drive, and kept up his usual prolific pace, which is perhaps
second only to Prince's. For both Costello and Byrne, rock and roll had
become almost incidental.

Then last year, after releasing the funky Latin Uh-Oh (and co-directing his
own concert film, Between the Teeth), Byrne happened to do a few one-off
acoustic duets (performing variously with Lucinda Williams, Rosanne Cash,
and Natalie Merchant), which reminded him: singer-songwriters! He'd been
working on some new material, so he put together a band (bassist Paul
Socolow, drummer Todd Turkisher, and percussionist Mauro Refosco), grew his
hair long, and played a few small-club dates, including a couple at CBGB,
where it all began. It felt good. Some of that raw abandon has made it onto
David Byrne--from the monotone whine that turns into a neurotic yodel on
"Angels" to the messy guitar quarrels on "Back in the Box."

Meanwhile, in England, former Transvision Vamp singer Wendy James asked
Costello, whom she'd never met, to write her a song for an upcoming solo
record. Costello and his wife, Cait O'Riordan (a former Pogue), promptly
holed up in their house and, over the course of one weekend, came up with
ten rock-and-roll songs. Costello, along with Attractions drummer Pete
Thomas, immediately went into a studio to demo the songs for James. It felt
good. (Pity he gave the songs away, though: Musician editor Bill Flanagan,
who heard the demo, raved, calling it This Year's Model, Part 2.) No
slobbering, sentimental Attractions reunion followed- but, when it came
time to record Brutal Youth (Trust, Part 2?), Costello said, "I wanted to
just record with a combo again, and [the Attractions are] the best one I
know." They're all back on Brutal Youth--Pete Thomas on drums, Steve Nieve
on keyboards, Bruce Thomas on bass, and former producer/sometime bass
player Nick Lowe--but they're billed individually, not as the Attractions.
Still, their sound is unmistakable, from Nieve's tinkling organ on "You
Tripped at Every Step" to Pete Thomas's free-range drumming on "Pony St."

Costello's and Byrne's records are both autobiographical and reflective, at
times regretful and sad. Both records are about getting older. Sound like a
drag? Nah. They rock. And Costello and Byrne have both proved themselves
willing and able to approach old songs with new vigor. Byrne and his band
have been burning down various European concert houses with stormy versions
of Talking Heads songs like "Once in a Lifetime" and "Life During Wartime,"
neither of which seems even mildly outdated alongside new songs like "A
Self-Made Man" (which is basically "Psycho Killer" with a master's degree).
On previous tours, Costello has practically ignored songs he recorded with
the Attractions, or contemptuously distorted them beyond recognition. On
this tour, though, he's reveling in the late seventies' "Watching the
Detectives," "Mystery Dance," "Pump It Up," even "Alison," all while
showcasing this year's record. Neither Costello nor Byrne tries to
re-create a time and a place, but both have come nicely full circle. And as
neo-elder statesmen, haven't they earned the indulgence of a little
nostalgia?