Review of The Delivery Man
Observer, 2004-09-19
- Phil Hogan

Elvis Costello: The Delivery Man

Sunday September 19, 2004
The Observer

Elvis Costello
The Delivery Man (Mercury)
4 stars
£13.99
A new Elvis Costello record invariably raises hopes of a return to form, though which form is anyone's guess, since no two fans agree on his high water mark. Get Happy? Those Burt Bacharach croonings? 'Shipbuilding'? King of America ? In terms of ambition, some might point to his latest classical CD, also released this month, Il Sogno, a full-length work scored for an Italian ballet based on A Midsummer Night's Dream and performed by the LSO. (Those nervous of high culture should head for track nine, a Gershwinesque drama of spiralling horns and exploding drums.)

What The Delivery Man signals though is a return to melody after his last 'straight' pop offering, When I Was Cruel , which despite shots of brilliance was easier to lose patience with than lose your heart over, with its sudden movements and miscellaneous gratings. The opener here could be a bonus track from those sessions - a cacophony of bumping bass and plonking 'hot club' piano that sounds like someone playing it with their feet.

As for the rest, though, there is a lot to like and even love. One hesitates to describe Costello as relaxed, but here he is at his most assured. Absent is any straining at theme or grandeur; there is no studio trickery; no room for showboating among his musicians (his regular band, The Impostors, plus guests). Vocally, Elvis is on song too, having abandoned his dentist's chair vibrato of recent years in favour of the less studied passion of his earlier records, alternating his flights of fury with that familiar close-mike intimacy with which he can bring the tenderest utterance to the brink of menace. These are fine songs - some sprung on modish rhythms, others dipped in country or blues - and possessed of tunes with the nuisance power to follow you around the house. 'Country Darkness' is an aching ballad in the mould of 'Motel Matches'. There's a crazed duet with a stupendously drawling Lucinda Williams and what sounds like eight guitars played through the same amp. The stately 'Nothing Clings Like Ivy' and 'Heart Shaped Bruise' see him sharing the vocals with Emmylou Harris. In between, there's dark wit in 'Monkey to Man' and foreboding in the title track - vintage Costello with its ominous refrain ('In a certain light he looks like Elvis; in a certain way he seems like Jesus') amid the drone of organ and lazy snare. The album ends with the beautiful and affecting 'Scarlet Tide' from the movie Cold Mountain , performed again with Harris in close attendance over a lone, picked, folk guitar.

If you used to love Elvis Costello, you'll love this.

Burn it: 'Nothing Clings Like Ivy'; 'The Delivery Man'

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