Elvis Costello
BARRY GORDON
ELVIS COSTELLO AND THE IMPOSTERS **
USHER HALL, EDINBURGH
EVERYONE likes a bit of Elvis. The problem is deciding which era you like best. And that’s the trouble with an Elvis Costello concert: you never know what you’re going to get.
Recent forays into classical music and love-song crooning have tested even the most ardent supporter. Thankfully, long-winded violin solos and self-indulgent schmaltz were ditched in favour of music more commonly associated with the Mississippi Delta.
Soaked in Americana and varnished in blues, the majority of the set - a two-and-a-half hour journey through Costello’s back catalogue - focused on the 50-year-old’s 21st album, The Delivery Man, the story of an ostensible anti-hero.
Heart Shaped Bruise, a plaintive country ballad, and Button My Lip, about a desperate man on the verge of committing a terrible crime, were notable highlights. Still, it took gut-bursting versions of Chelsea and Pump It Up to spring the audience into life. Looking portly in seam-busting suit, stubbly Costello brought things to a crescendo with Oliver’s Army. But while he was seemingly enjoying it, you couldn’t help feeling Costello wished he was somewhere else.