Review of Painted From Memory
Rocktropolis, 1998-10-06
- John Bitzer

allstar rating: 8

Elvis Costello with Burt Bacharach
Painted From Memory
(Mercury)

It's about time Burt Bacharach got his due.
Long unjustly sneered at by a younger
generation for representing an old- school
establishment -- due mainly to his mistimed
prominence for hit pop songwriting during the
'60s age of rebellion -- his masterful
craftmanship is now finally coming to light for a
new generation, and rightly so. Anyone who
respects melody cannot overlook his
contributions to the pop pantheon -- among
them such elegant wonders as "Anyone Who
Had a Heart," "Walk On By," and "I Say a
Little Prayer," all hits for his main '60s
mouthpiece, Dionne Warwick. 
   But Bacharach has found a new champion in
longtime fan Elvis Costello, and a finer pairing
could not have been dreamed up. As much as
Bacharach's most famous lyricist partner, Hal
David, fit words to melodies like an old shoe,
he is not the wordsmith Costello is. David's
philosophy was this: less is more, say it quick,
and get the hell out of the way of those
gorgeous melodic twists and turns. 
   Costello, on the other hand, works on several
levels at once: subtlety, irony, alliteration, and
good ole this- line- just- sounds- great- so-
let's- leave- it- in playfulness. And that's the
exhilarating part: on his side, Bacharach
himself works on just as many musical levels,
constructing melodies that rise, fall, and turn
unexpectedly, ignoring the usual verse/ chorus/
bridge rules and setting his own (there are
bridges inside of bridges), yet somehow
polishing his mini- symphonies so that they
end up as three-minute pop songs that sound
simplistically, magically elegant. Combine the
two sides and the result is an album of
exquisite, almost perfect pop songs. 
      Almost because
   they lack one thing
   -- heart. That's the
   odd part. Certainly
   both writers have
   left the most
   personal sides of
   themselves on
   countless works in
   the past, yet both
   feel slightly
restrained here -- on paper, this is a perfect
marriage, but on record, it's a first date.
Costello sings a little too politely, perhaps
trying to emulate Warwick. And despite the
lush orchestration -- sweeping strings, backup
singers, tinkling pianos, etc. -- one senses too
much tentativeness. Ballads this beautiful
require a dose of emotion to truly pierce, yet
those moments are too few. 
   The exceptions: a fleeting line in "The
Sweetest Punch," where Costello seems to
lose himself in jealousy ("Then you better go to
him"); most of "Toledo," a sad reflection of a
dreamer's dull life in Toledo, Ohio, who
idealizes the city of the same name in Spain
(think Paris, Texas); and all six-plus minutes of
"God Give Me Strength," the song that started
this partnership, which originally appeared in
the Allison Anders film Grace of My Heart, and
which simply bursts with the thrill of discovery
-- of Bacharach's comeback and of this duo's
potential -- as well as sinewy melody, and even
plenty of pain. 
   But even if, at its weakest points, it feels like
an exercise, it's always a delicious listen. In
the end, both songwriters are such
accomplished, detailed craftsmen that they
refuse -- especially in collaboration -- to sign
their names to anything that doesn't represent
their best efforts.