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For a decade or so, the man called Elvis Costello has held forth — a black, brooding and bilious presence in the world of pop music. He regularly released albums that collectively revealed a prodigious talent behind the funny glasses and gap-toothed sneer.
The albums and the singer's public protestations branded Costello as a troubled performer whose ink bottle contained mostly vitriol. The infamous Costello-Bonnie Bramlett-Ray Charles brouhaha cast him as a cockney redneck and his broadsides at things American alienated many fans stateside. His songs presented an artist with a less-than-sanguine view of the world.
And yet, Costello consistently has been one of the best songwriters working, as such albums as Trust, Get Happy!! and My Aim Is True demonstrated. This is the man who wrote "Alison," "Watching the Detectives," "Shipbuilding" and many other gems. The same man who performed for Rock Against Racism. The same performer who can be gracious and relaxed — if not exactly ebullient — in conversation.
Will the real Elvis Costello please stand up?
On his new album, King Of America (Columbia), the singer goes further than that. In one of those dramatic show business moves, he abandons Elvis Costello. In a way, the new LP is the first by Declan MacManus (his name at birth). Apparently weary of hiding behind the smokescreen that Elvis Costello had become, the singer legally changed his name back to MacManus, then went to work. You won't find Elvis Costello anywhere here, although Columbia, ever cautious, credits the LP to "The Costello Show (Featuring Elvis Costello).'
So what about the record?
King Of America is one of the best Costello works ever. If this marks the rebirth of Declan MacManus, it is an auspicious return.
There are some changes. Costello's old band, the Attractions, appear only on one song. They have been replaced by Fort Worth's T Bone Burnett — who also produced — plus former Elvis Presley guitarist James Burton, jazzmen Ray Brown and Earl Palmer and the rhythm section of Hall and Oates. The 15 songs here are anchored within a fairly traditional rock 'n' roll setting, but otherwise are as disparate as pop and swing.
The emphasis is on the acoustic and on variety. Thus, we get the gentle, unaffected romance of "Lovable" (written with current flame Cait O'Riordan of the Pogues); the moving balladry of "Sleep Of the Just"; the barnyard raveup of "Glitter Gulch"; the country canter of "The Big Light," featuring the indefatigable Burton on electric guitar; and the tender, ostensibly gentle "Indoor Fireworks," whose tale of domestic disagreement ends with this startling, and typically Costello-like threat: "Don't think for a moment dear that we'll ever be through / I'll build a bonfire of my dreams / And burn a broken effigy of me and you."
Then there's the angry social commentary of "Little Palaces]] • [[ a chilling, acoustic song whose attack on "the sedated homes of England" and railing against child abuse is framed prettily by the intoxicating mandolin work of the Little Hands of Concrete (a.k.a. Elvis Costello).
The superb "Brilliant Mistake," lent a pristine air by the chiming guitars, gets the album off to a strong beginning. The song intrigues on a couple of levels. Elvis, a performer who got his inspiration — not to mention his name — from this country, skewers America, "Where they pour Coca Cola just like vintage wine." And he lampoons what he considers the shallowness of the nation: "She said that she is working for the ABC News / It was as much of the alphabet as she knew." At the same time, the refrain, "I was a fine idea at the time / Now I'm a brilliant mistake," suggests a reckoning of the Elvis Costello character itself. And so does Costello's cover of the Animals' "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood." EC's slower, musing version — with vintage-sounding Hammond organ and marimba — could be interpreted as further debunking of the Costello myth.
Costello's formidable writing skills receive good display here. There's "I'll Wear It Proudly," a confessional love song that is less celebratory of love than it is tormented by love and shame, its pain placed in relief by Mitchell Froom's funky Hammond. "Poisoned Rose" has a similar character, though this bluesy, almost a cappella tune communicates a more palpable sense of despair.
Costello resumes his social commentary on "American Without Tears," an extraordinary composition in which the protagonist remembers his grandfather and World War II GI brides, then bounces back to the present — and his feelings of alienation: "Now it seems we've been crying for years and for years / Now I don't speak any English / Just American without tears." Ron Tutt's brushes and drum, coupled with Jo-El Sonnier's wonderful French accordion give the song a thoughtful, lilting aspect and a two-stepping sway.
Throughout the album, Costello sings as well as he ever has, most affectingly on "Poisoned Rose," "American Without Tears," "Brilliant Mistake," "I'll Wear It Proudly," the album-closing "Sleep Of the Just" and "Jack Of All Parades," a sweet song that revels in the joy of romance, and which features beautiful piano work by Steve Nieve of the Attractions.
"Suit Of Lights," which features Nieve and the other Attractions — Bruce Thomas on bass, Pete Thomas on drums and Costello on acoustic guitar — is a stripped-down tune that sounds suspiciously like the public burial of Elvis Costello. As he sings the lyrics: "For goodness sake as you cry and shake / Let's keep you face down in the dirt dirt where you belong / And think of all the pleasure that brings," the newly restored MacManus seems harsh in his banishment of the Elvis Costello character. But while his relief at conquering his alter ego is understandable, many of us will remain grateful to Elvis Costello for a decade of great music.
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