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Last Wednesday, Elvis Costello played to a capacity audience, compressed, sweating and ready to go, squeezed in like hot sardines in the cellar of the Hope and Anchor. The audience swayed to the best, sang along and shouted out for their favourite songs. It was his second ever London performance. Elvis Costello had made, to date, one album and three singles, all of which appear on the album. Also, no-one knows a thing about him.
So don’t be too surprised if this time next week, he’s the hottest new property in the country. What really surprised me, though, was the man’s attitude to his own success. But let’s start at the beginning.
To begin with, here’s our Elvis Costello interview in its entirety, and the story behind it. We turned up early at the Hope, angling for interviews, and snuck downstairs to find Elvis hunched over the show’s running order with bass man Bruce Thomas. If you’ve seen his photos, you’ll know he looks offbeat, but it isn’t much resemblance. Elvis is a lot younger than he looks, but at the same time, looks a lot older than he is (you got me?), resembling a learned turtle in large-scale hornrims. He manages at once to be gangling and stocky, and to cap the effect, his top half sports an immaculate dark jacket and waistcoat with dark shirt while underneath is a scrubby pair of drains with hefty boots. But if you think he looks funny, wait’ll you see what he had to say for himself after flicking through a copy of NR No2 to see if we’d given him a good review.
‘OK, sure I’ll do an interview, but it depends what questions you ask. I mean, as far as I’m concerned, I’ve already done the definitive interview with Nick Kent. (Who hasn’t?-Ed) I did 2 interviews with Sounds, and it was just embarrassing. I read these Tom Waits interviews and they’re always the same. So you can interview me, only don’t ask me why I’m called Elvis, don’t ask me who plays on the album, don’t ask me, etc, etc…’
And that, dear reader, is the Negative Reaction Definitive Elvis Costello interview. Pretty definitive, eh, kids? What happened after that was that we nipped up to Highbury Station for a few minutes and when we returned to do the Full In-Depth Feature, the fat great bouncer on the door wouldn’t let us in again. Oh, well, better luck next time. All we can do in the circumstances is to tell you about the concert. First of all, the place was packed to the gills, and one of the sweatiest places I’ve ever been. To make things worse, the band kept everyone waiting for the sort of length of time you’d expect from the Floyd or someone. To be fair, I suppose it was only really noticeable because it was so packed, and because of everyone’s tensed anticipation, but it’s also indicative of the star treatment being laid on by Stiff, and of Costello’s attitude towards his audience, generally one of total off-hand contempt. Maybe it’s only nerves or something, or letting the music speak for itself (maaan), but he adopts a totally off-hand manner, not smiling, not saying much, and generally doing the classic low-profile thing. All he did say was to mention cursorily how hot it was, to say, ‘It’s great to play to some human beings, instead of fuckin’ liggers down at Dingwalls’ (but he probably said something similar at Dingwalls). Also, very revealingly, he directs the introduction of a song title right at the audience – ‘Lip Service – that’s all you’ll ever get from me!’ In short, his was the sort of onstage character which could mean lots of charisma or none at all. He don’t give nuthin’ away. But enough psychology, here’s the lowdown on the music itself:
If you’ve heard the album, you’ll know that Elvis is a real minimalist, if you’re looking to use the tag on someone. He writes the basic, neatly structured, smooth as silk R&B, no frills, with the sort of lyrics that could get him labelled as the new Dylan, or worse, which has already happened, the new Springsteen. On stage, the songs were played straight n’ neat, with a really fine band, ex-Willi Pete Thomas on drums and Hawaiian silk tie, Bruce Thomas on bass, ex-Quiverland, the two of them keeping up (to coin yer cliché) a rock steady beat. On discreet, stylish keyboards, Steve Mason, sounding sometimes like Bob Andrews, even Ron Mael at one point; he played some immaculate jazzy ripples in ‘Alison’. And on understated lead and rhythm guitar, Elvis, whose voice bears out, to an extent, the Van Morrison comparison, more controlled, but not constricted, more naturally flowing than Van, but just as passionate. They played most of the tracks from the album and some new ones; I couldn’t get any notes written in that sea of sweat, but they were all played straight, like I said. There wasn’t one bad moment in the whole set, a pretty rare thing these days, but the standouts were ‘Alison’, the most moving song I’ve heard for a long time, played to full tear-jerking effect (and that’s in no way derogatory), ‘Less Than Zero’, played slightly off-centre from the recorded version, a lot rawer and jerky, and most of all, a new number, ‘Watching the Detectives’, a tense, menacing reggae. ‘Waiting For The End of the World’ was also fine, choogling along tightly. All in all, one of the best sets I’ve seen for ages, but as for the man himself, a mystery. Still, maybe the Kent interview’ll tell you want we can’t.
Another thing about tonight is that it brings back the hallowed days of pub rock, remember that? When it was more likely to be a Guiness and country pie that London burning with gall and wormwood. Apart from the presence of Pete Thomas, them gold eons were recalled by the presence of such as Lee Brilleaux, Paul Riley, and someone very intoxicated looking a lot like a Great Crested Cockatoo in black, who turns out to be none other than Elvis’ producer and Stiff wunderkind Nick Lowe. On the ball, we go and hustle an interview. ‘I’m not one of the Damned, you know’, he fended. OK Lowe, we know who you are, just answer these questions. Right, first, what are you doing these days in the way of production?
‘I’m doing Elvis’ new album; at the moment I’m doing Dr. Feelgood’s new album, it’s a killer R&B record, a disco record, a pop record. I only record what I like – I don’t give a shit about tastes or trends, as long as I think it’s good.’ He also denies that he works non-stop. ‘I only work in real short stabs – some people like to work 15, 16 hours at a time. I did one with Alberto y los Trios Paranoias, a 14 hour session, I was knackered. I’d rather do short stints of high energy. I figure after 8 hours you just get unproductive. Even if things are really hopping, I’ll knock it on the head after 8 hours: it’s generally because of drugs if things are happening after that long.’
You keep in the background a lot, you’re more likely to be producing someone else rather than pushing your own solo career. ‘I don’t do that intentionally… I can’t do anything except make records or write songs, I’m not interested in 3 years at the top, cause after that, what am I gonna do, fry burgers? I’d go and fry burgers tomorrow, at least they give you 2 weeks pay, which is more than fuckin’ Swansong gave me when they fired me off the Dave Edmunds tour…’
They fired you? Now waitaminnit, this must be pretty controversial stuff; I didn’t read anything like that in the Nick Kent NME piece. Any chance of out-scooping him? Talk on:
‘Slung me off without so much as a quid. They fired the whole group. I should add, for three reasons. First, which I choose to believe is the main reason, Bad Company are taking a dive in America at the moment; they wanted a support act who’d pull in some punters on their own, 2000 seats. They draw 14-year old girls over there, here it’s the greatcoat brigade- Edmunds had hits when these kids were in nappies. Secondly, we were getting better reviews; Swansong are very paranoid about reviews. Bad Co. were getting slagged off. Personally, I couldn’t give a fuck about reviews.
‘Thirdly,, I’ve heard tell this is one of the main reasons, I can’t believe it though: because Bad Co. and Swansong are so freaked out about the New Wave thing, they fell that because I produce the Damned I’m like some sort of ringleader in a conspiracy to overthrow ‘em.’
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