|
It has become expected in the '70s for rock 'n' roll groups to play it safe. The rush to follow the trends and avoid rocking the boat of success is overwhelming. With big labels like Warner Brothers saying that they will be releasing fewer records — meaning fewer new artists will be signed — things do not look good for creative rock.
But the situation isn't all that desperate. While Rod Stewart and the Doobie Brothers have hit the disco trail, a generation of new rockers has sprung up from nowhere and gotten at least a foothold on the industry. Initially the concern only of discriminating rock critics, these new rockers have moved steadily into the mainstream. At the top of the list is Elvis Costello, a bespectacled Englishman with a flair for ill-fitting clothes. He has become the most successful of the younger breed because he has taken the most chances.
Costello and his band, the Attractions, will make their third appearance in a little over a year at Memorial Hall on Monday on a bill that also includes the Rubinoos. And if you are into rock, Costello is someone to be reckoned with.
It is delightful, and not really too surprising, that a generation that has had the opportunity to assimilate the music of both the '60s and the '50s should now be creating variations that both emulate and extend the rock 'n' roll form.
Costello is seldom subtle. Gregg Geller, Columbia A&R chief, explained his signing of Costello by saying, He fit in with a tradition with this company: singer-songwriters with a real distinct view.
And what a point of view. Costello, over the course of three albums, has pulled no punches. When he snarls, "Sometimes I think that love is just a tumour / You've got to cut it out," you want to run for cover. He shoots from both hips, leaving no survivors.
His voice is not technically great, but like Bob Dylan, with whom he has many similarities, he uses it to his advantage. He times his phrases unpredictably, so the words are easy to hear amid the tumult of the Attractions' music.
Costello may be the most credible example of the cynical romantic since Dylan spewed invectives up and down Fourth Street in the mid-'60s. He is what it always seemed the post-Beatles John Lennon could become — a tricky wordsmith with an intuitive grasp of classic rock 'n' roll principles.
Of course, good rock 'n' roll never needs strong lyrics to be effective. Despite the heavy emphasis placed on Costello's words, the music is the most enchanting part of the package. His sparse, tight, three-piece band — organist Steve Young, bassist Bruce Thomas and drummer Chris Thomas — fills the records with short, energetic bursts of raw power.
The live show is even more powerful. His first local appearance was at Pogo's in February 1978 during the first American tour. Instead of relying completely on the familiar songs from his first album, he and the band ran through eight unfamiliar new songs with hardly a breath in between. Considering the smooth "greatest hits" spectacles that many concerts have become, that's taking chances.
But Costello seems to be able to laugh at himself as well as others, and his stage act is as humorous as it is musical. He makes a legitimate hero for the millions who don't look or want to look like Robert Plant or Shaun Cassidy.
He opens Armed Forces with the words, "I just don't know where to begin." Given his present situation — on the brink of the big time at 23 — it's easy to believe him. It is this bare-faced conviction and brutal honesty, set in those memorable melodies, that Is so attractive about Costello, and no doubt it will keep him around a long time.
| 
