Rolling Stone (on-line), 1998-09-24
PAINTED FROM MEMORY WITH BURT BACHARACH
- Greg Kot
3.5 stars
Polygram,1998

In case you missed his cameo in Austin Powers or his nationally
televised tribute concert, Burt Bacharach is again in vogue; his
opulent brand of Sixties-pop songwriting has found a new audience
among swizzle-stick hipsters. Elvis Costello, on the other hand, has
seen his chic factor drop to less than zero in recent years, in part
because he keeps fluttering from genre to genre, collaborating with
the likes of the Brodsky String Quartet and avant-jazz guitarist Bill
Frisell.

In Bacharach, Costello has found his most empathetic sidekick yet.
The former's arrangements for orchestra and rock combo (including
longtime Costello keyboard player Steve Nieve) are typically suave,
embellished with the kind of instrumental forget-me-nots that
Babyface would die for. Bells chime in "The Sweetest Punch"; the
horns say a little prayer in "Toledo."

But the album ultimately turns on Costello's voice. Bacharach's tunes
demand a certain effortlessness, and while the supper-club singer
inside Costello has long yearned to break free, he's not always
smooth enough to pull off the traditional crooner approach.
Costello's vibrato-drenched baritone strains to spear high notes,
and the soulless female backing vocals heighten the sense that this
should have been Luther Vandross' gig.

When he turns down the volume, Costello creates ideal moods for
jilted lovers. His phrasing is tart, his tone quietly seething. The
cheerful, trite "Such Unlikely Lovers" is out of place here, but
self-mutilation burns through the exquisite orchestrations and subtle
wordplay in "This House Is Empty Now" and "God Give Me Strength."
Thanks to Bacharach, Costello's bile has never sounded so sweet.