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About five years ago, I missed the Armed Forces tour. Three New York clubs in one night. Sold out.
In Kansas City, it was the Imperial Bedroom tour. An unavoidable conflict. Darn.
So the prospect of Elvis Costello's Tuesday night show at the Fair Park Band Shell loomed large in my imagination for weeks, maybe months. I fully expected the earth to shake.
It was, therefore, slightly disappointing Tuesday when Costello registered about a 2.5 on the excitement scale.
Maybe I was expecting too much from one of the artists who gave rock a good name again in the boring 70s. Taking that into account, I can only blame Elvis' less than mesmerizing Band Shell performance on a few key factors.
First, and maybe most important, was what he sang. While Costello is not the sort of fellow to trot out a hit parade and drool all over the stage like an eager puppy trying to win affection, he seems to have made a concentrated effort to pack the show with some of his least interesting material.
Second, the sound was murky. That, in itself, is not necessarily the performer's fault. And, as often happens, it's the sort of problem that, with a little finesse, can be easily overcome.
But, point No. 2, when combined with point No. 3 — which is Costello's thick British accent and almost unintelligible diction — made for something of a mess.
And all that leads to point No. 4. To get the most out of Elvis Costello, you've got to be able to understand his lyrics. And, throughout most of Tuesday night's show, that was just not possible.
Elvis took the stage wearing dark glasses and looking characteristically grim. He raced through a couple of numbers, and things didn't really start to pick up until he got to "Watching the Detectives," to which he jumbled the rhythms and slurred most of the lyrics. "The Only Flame in Town" — a good vehicle for Costello's powerful crooning, as are most of the ballads — was served up nicely, even inspiring a few couples into a little slow-dancing.
"Mystery Dance," delivered through clenched teeth and barely parted lips, also sounded good, especially with Elvis teasing the dancers in the crowd by breaking off and stopping momentarily just before the danceable refrain. "Shabby Doll" was alternately intense and then throwaway, as was "Love Field."
One of the few things I managed to catch Costello saying was the dedication of "Worthless Thing," which became a putdown of some other performers. Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It" was referred to sarcastically as "real dangerous" music; Billy Idol's "Eyes Without a Face" he facetiously called "real rebel stuff."
And that's OK — compared to those colleagues, Elvis certainly comes out on top. Nevertheless, Tuesday night he failed to capture the rare ability he possesses in the studio to make an entire album come alive. The waves of excitement didn't reach much beyond the band of diehards gathered in front of the stage; most of those seated farther back on the benches either remained seated throughout the show or milled around making social calls and beer runs.
Nick Lowe opened the concert with a performance that rivaled Costello's in the mundane department. The most interesting aspect of Lowe's set was the fact that he gave away a hefty chunk of it — three songs — to his keyboardist, Paul Carrack, formerly of Squeeze.
"Tempted" was a pleasant reminder of Carrack's old group, and, all in all, his turn at the microphone was a welcome relief from the tedium of Lowe's music.
So much for great expectations.
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