|
UPPER DARBY, PA. — Elvis Costello began his career nearly a decade ago as "new wave" music's original angry young man. "He was a fine idea at the time / Now he's a brilliant mistake."
On his "Costello Sings Again" tour of six American cities, which ended in Philadelphia, Costello adopted a sort of Grateful Dead approach in order to chronicle as much of his career as possible onstage. He traveled with two bands (in the early '70s, the Dead used to travel and play with New Riders of the Purple Sage and other musicians), and played for more than seven hours over three nights. Some of the music was acoustic, much was electric, relatively few songs were repeated and those that were didn't sound the same from one night to the next.
Night One was the gentlest, swingin'-est, most generous and a great treat for fans interested in early rock and roll, country and America's musical history in general. For about half the evening, Costello was accompanied by The Confederates, a band made up of Jim Keltner (drums), Jerry Scheff (bass), James Burton (guitar) — all session pros — Michael Blair (marimba, vibes, percussion), Ralph Carney (sax), and, from Tom Petty's Heartbreakers, Benmont Tench (keyboards), filling in for Mitchell Froom, who had to leave the tour early due to production commitments.
Every second in which these guys participated was a pleasure. Keltner, Scheff and Blair beat out some cool grooves without ever becoming overbearing and Tench's creamy organ fills and expansive piano flourishes fit in perfectly (no small feat, since he was a last-minute substitute). Burton, who played on Ricky Nelson's original hits, and also accompanied the late Gram Parsons, Emmylou Harris and the other Elvis, showed why he's the Clapton of country-rock, as he tickled precise fills and perfectly phrased solos out of his Telecaster. Only the sax, which until late in the evening was lost in the mix, and wasn't utilized as much in general, failed to make much of an impact.
Since several of these guys had worked on Costello's King Of America lp, it wasn't surprising to hear them go at much of this countrified material, including the jittery "Glitter Gulch" and "The Big Light"; the delicate "Indoor Fireworks" and "Little Palaces"; the passionate "I'll Wear It Proudly"; the playful "Lovable"; the torchy "Poisoned Rose"; the confessional "Brilliant Mistake," and "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" (as sung by Costello, the words to the Animals oldie fit him so perfectly they became his own); the waltzy, "American Without Tears" (played for the second time in one evening) and the climactic "Sleep Of The Just," featuring some especially eerie, clanging vibes and martial drumming set against muted organ and piano.
Costello and company also got to share some of their knowledge of America's musical past, as they covered a wide spectrum of songs. These included Buddy Holly's most beautiful ballad, "True Love Ways," Allen Toussaint's "Riverboat" (recorded by Lee Dorsey and, later, Robert Palmer), and Jesse Winchester's boppin' "Payday."
Costello himself established the evening's relatively quiet tone by doing most of his own playing on an acoustic guitar. In fact, he played two solo sets, which alternated with those featuring the band. The primitive limitations of his guitar style were especially apparent during these portions, yet used to good effect — simple notes were picked with a quiet desperation shattered by sudden chords.
During the first of these sets, which kicked off the evening, he played before a small screen, on which were projected comical "travel slides." Elvis also shared some quips: he stopped before certain verses of the opening "Tokyo Storm Warning" to offer dubious explanations for upcoming lyrical references. Introducing "You Worthless Thing," he suggested that MTV was a KGB plot to weaken American youth by selling and feeding them Snickers candy bars.
"Suit Of Lights," "Green Shirt" (percussion provided by the clapping audience), "Heathen Town," a simpler "American Without Tears" and "The Deportees Club" were also featured here, although the highlight was "New Amsterdam," broken up in the middle by a beautiful reading of The Beatles' "You've Got To Hide Your Love Away" — one of several tributes Costello paid to John Lennon during this engagement.
The second solo set also contained plenty of gems: "Radio Sweetheart," the first country original Elvis recorded; "You Little Fool," one of my favorites from Imperial Bedroom; a credible cover of the Psychedelic Furs' "Pretty In Pink"; and "The Only Flame In Town," done more slowly and sounding sadder than it does on record.
Running exactly three hours, with no intermission, the first night was perhaps a bit too long — the solo sets could have been trimmed a bit. But those who stuck it out to the very end went home happy. And the next morning, I was eager for more.
Night Two's presentation was totally different. It centered upon the gigantic "Spectacular Spinning Songbook," trimmed with colored lights and featuring at least 40 song titles, including most of Costello's "greatest hits," some favorite obscurities and few surprising covers.
Glitzy silver curtains, like those that adorn tv game show sets, hung across the back of the stage. A Go-Go cage took up the corner opposite the wheel. A "society lounge," consisting of a tv set turned on to Moonlighting, comically-titled self-help paperbacks (e.g., Living with an Imperfect Person) and Gatorade all but obscured keyboardist Steve Nieve; in fact, the trappings squished Costello and his long time band The Attractions (bassist Bruce Thomas, drummer Pete Thomas and Nieve) into a relatively limited playing space.
Using his latest nom de plume, "Napoleon Dynamite," Costello himself emceed the evening in a glib, garrulous manner that was a far cry from the hostile, stand-offish persona with which he originally made his reputation.
Aided by one "Xavier Valentine," a hulking, mustachioed gent who roamed the Tower in a tux and black, curly toupee, Costello selected from the audience, volunteers to spin the wheel and choose each song to be played. After the song was selected, the spinner manned the Go-Go cage — women alone, men with dancers provided by Costello — while the band performed the selection.
If this sounds unusual and a lot of fun, it was in fact; it was as original a concert as I've ever attended. However, the evening lacked momentum musically. By having to stop after each number to select a new spinner, The Attractions didn't build up much of a head of steam until towards the end, when they had five women spin the wheel before playing any of their chosen selections. And the performances of some of the songs were perfunctory, as if the music were secondary to the concept — which it was.
Still, the audience got to hear a lot of the songs they wanted, including "Watching The Detectives," "Pump It Up," "Alison" (which Costello tossed in himself), "Red Shoes," "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love And Understanding," "Radio, Radio," "Everyday I Write The Book" (rocked up considerably for the benefit of the go-go cage), "Less Than Zero," and "The Beat."
Elvis even moved the wheel from "Man Out Of Time" to "Green Shirt" to accommodate a girl who wanted to hear the latter; "If I can't cheat here in America, where can I cheat?" he asked the house with a dash of his old scarcasm.
The musicians even rendered ragged but rollicking renditions of Tom Petty's "American Girl" and Prince's "Pop Life." And to remind everyone that he was good for more than just his better-known rockers, "Napoleon" paused for a brief "word from our sponsor," so that he and Nieve could perform a quiet miniset consisting of the obscure but lovely "Hoover Factory," the melodramatic "Shot With His Own Gun" and "Shipbuilding."
Night Three was devoid of gimmicks and trappings. Positioned at the center of an otherwise barren stage, Costello and The Attractions performed a traditional — at least, as much as the word can be applied to them — concert.
Although built around their newest lp, Blood & Chocolate, the group also ran through a lot of older material. In fact, "Watching The Detectives," "Red Shoes," "Radio, Radio," "Peace, Love And Understanding" and "Pump It Up" were played with much more fervor — even Costello's guitar work was serious — than they had been on previous evenings, making it clear that clowntime was over.
Costello rummaged further through his catalog for dynamic definitive versions of "Clubland" (featuring a verse from The Drifters' "On Broadway"), "Mystery Dance," "Beyond Belief," "Shabby Doll" (Bruce Thomas' unique bass work capturing the concept of things falling apart) "Lipstick Vogue," "Accidents Will Happen," "New Lace Sleeves," "Hand In Hand" and "Jack Of All Parades."
Anyone who's been having trouble warming up to Blood & Chocolate would have found this show invaluable. The lp's engineering may be a little careless but the songs are there, as Costello made clear tonight. His new wife, Pogues bassist/vocalist Cait O'Riordan, helped bring out the melodic loveliness of "Crimes Of Paris" and powerful melancholy of "Poor Napoleon" with her background vocals (the latter ended the show in a powerful fadeout of feedback and white light).
"Uncomplicated" and "Tokyo Storm Warning" packed plenty of primal fury, while "I Want You" possessed as much primal passion as the John Lennon/Abbey Road song of the same name. Costello also brought a suggestion of desperation to "Battered Old Bird," and conjured up connections between the stripped-down fury of "Honey Are You Straight Or Are You Blind?" and poppy "Blue Chair" with This Year's Model and Armed Forces, respectively.
Actually, the look and frantic pacing of this entire final night harkened back to The Attractions' early years, when they exuded so much power and energy. But now, the playing was more sophisticated, Costello's singing more expressive and his attitude more open. Back to square one but not really, with so many accomplishments under his belt, Costello is now much more poised. With — and without — The Attractions, he reached a new peak as a performer on this visit.
|
