"Couldn’t Call It Unexpected"
Elvis Costello & Steve Nieve
Wednesday, 1999-01-27, Capitol Theatre, Sydney, Australia
- George Huitker


We didn’t know what to expect.

I was with a friend who had been present at an infamous 50-minute Elvis
Costello gig nearly twenty years ago, which was evidently during the
artist’s “young and impetuous” phase (to steal his own phraseology). My
colleague also stated that if Costello played too much of the ‘Bacharach
nonsense’, he would leave early. As it was, Costello did play a large
proportion of his Bacharch collaborations. As well as three encores
(which possibly lasted longer than the notorious concert in question).

My friend stayed. And will no doubt purchase “Painted from Memory”.

There could not have been many audience members that left the Capitol
Theatre disappointed after this 27-song marathon-stretch from “Mr
Revenge(less so) & Guilt(more so)” and Professor Piano. The standing
ovations Costello & Nieve received prior to an unforgettable conclusion-
a gut-wrenching, unplugg’d, in-yer-front-row’s-face rendition of
“Couldn’t Call It Unexpected No.4”- were more than well and truly
deserved. Costello crooned until his fragile voice was king hoarse, then
returned three times with selections thoughtfully clenched from the
darkest places of an impressive ouevre. The audience itself had very few
songs left to request by the end of a packed programme.

And the duo were never going to touch “Pump It Up”.

Costello and Nieve won over their audience with a professionalism that
had little of the pretence, emotional coldness and studied cynicism that
can sometimes be associated with many of the tired dinosaurs of rock. A
setlist that more than amply covered a range of songs, styles and
periods of Costello’s musical progression from “Alison” to “God Give Me
Strength” was more than assured to safely satisfy fans of all shapes,
sizes and persuasions.

In the new material, which featured predominantly throughout the
evening, Nieve frequently impressed. It was as if he was single-handedly
taking responsibility for replacing a whole darn symphony orchestra and
two remaining Attractions. While his fingers were running up and down
the keys and creating a veritable tornado of sound, his gangly frame
frenetically rocked back and forth on his piano-stool like a pipe
organist from a B&W gothic horror film. Very rarely did he need to
adjourn to his trusty synthesizer as he colourfully extracted myriads of
moods, dynamics and textures from his grand piano. In “Such Unlikely
Lovers” we almost heard violins.

Nieve’s showy virtuosity, never distracted or detracted from Costello’s
effecting vocal delivery which, although strained and tenuous in the
upper register (that the occasional pulling away from the microphone
could not disguise), contained an emotional warmth and honesty that
easily forgave the limitations of range. In “Toledo”, free from the
frills of backing radio sweethearts and lush Bacharachian
instrumentation, the song’s beautiful, buoyant melodies and subtle chord
progressions were allowed to effect the listener in a rawer, purer
state. It was the better for it.

The same could be said of the old classics, reworked by two musicians at
the peak of their powers, presented with simple, sincere and uncluttered
vitality. Uptempo numbers such as “(I Don’t Want to go to) Chelsea” and
“Watching the Detectives” provided upbeat relief amidst a set designed
to have listeners hurling themselves from the balconies of despair,
while slower, soulful and sultry renditions of “Temptation”, “Everyday I
Write the Back” and “Veronica” reinterpreted  recognisable
McCartneyesque tunes in a different, dimming light from their original,
sugary  recordings. “Radio Sweetheart” and “(The Angels Wanna Wear My)
Red Shoes” gave the audience the chance to add some backing vocals and
chant choruses, while “God’s Comic” allowed our bespeckled philosopher
to muse about the afterlife and the divine standpoint on rock legends
such as Elvis (the other one) and Frankie, as well as squeeze out the
evening’s rehearsed joke.

If the creator in question had heard the desperate longing in “I Want
You” which steadily reached boiling point through the controlled
intensity of Costello’s feverish strumming and Nieve’s volcanic
crescendos- subsiding into a passionate, fading plea of lust and
anguish, He or She would certainly have come down off His or Her
celestial waterbed and given the singer strength while banishing Andrew
Lloyd Webber to the pits of a very bland hell.

The highlight was to come at the end. Without amplification, a tired
Costello responded to the audience’s genuine applause, admiration and
appreciation by baring his soul and putting aside his microphone and
carrying us away to the melodious, mellifluous and mighty strains of
“Couldn’t Call It Unexpected No.4”, an underrated gem. Young and
impetuous no more, a wiser, wearier but ultimately spirited and
uplifting voice filled the Capitol to the stalls and surely stirred the
most hardest of hearts.

I can’t believe I’ll never believe in Elvis Costello again.

George Huitker
31/1/99
George.Huitker@Radford.act.edu.au