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Through the dark ages of '90s rock, it was as if Costello took a working vacation — digging into expanding his horizons and seeing what happened. And when he did come up for air, in various personae (the Jerry Garcia Elvis, the Brodsky Quartet Elvis, the Burt Bacharach/Austin Powers Elvis), he was trying things out in public — seeing what worked, what didn't. It might have been frustrating to his fans, to bounce with him through his many forays — but it was necessary, really, in his growth process.
Well, it's only been two years since his album with mezzo-soprano Anne Sofie von Otter, but it seems an eternity (actually five years-plus) since the last "Costello" album (All This Useless Beauty). And now, he's come around full circle and given us his best album in over 20 years. Actually, 24 years. This will probably land on the medal platform with This Year's Model, his second album, and My Aim Is True his second and first discs, respectively.
I know; that's a serious statement, and some fans will point to Imperial Bedroom (1982) and King of America ('86). But three things set this album apart. It's a synthesis of just about everything he's absorbed musically over the years. It's clear that Costello finally took Bacharach's advice about trying to cram too many words into a bar of music, rediscovering the balance between lyric and melody, letting the lyrics breathe. And he rocks like he hasn't in a long time.
He's had his rock moments over the decade or so — "Veronica," "The Other Side of Summer," "13 Steps" — but not many. Here, backed by a core unit that includes old Attractions mates Steve Nieve and Pete Thomas, he lets loose years' worth. The nostalgic "45" explodes into a bloom of melody and sound, then retreats, then waits to do it again. "Tear Off Your Own Head (It's a Doll Revolution)" is, at turns, '60s trippy and poppy, edgy and relentless. The noisy "Dissolve" is his John Lennon venting moment, early-'70s vintage. And "Daddy Can I Turn This?" a rage against a golden cage, is as hard as he's sounded since the Angry Young Man days, a searing guitar screaming over a dense beat and ominous melody line.
But, master of subtlety and variety that he's become, he's just as effective slowed down. The acid test is when one can make a long song seem too short. "When I Was Cruel No. 2," a 7-minute tale, treads old territory (money can't buy happiness), but paints it with a craftsman's verbal dexterity, roasting it slowly over a musical bed of dread, sadness and emptiness. It will probably stand as one of his best songs. And "Alibi," nearly as long, uses dub reggae to set up a song that morphs into Bacharach/Dionne Warwick soul with a fuzzy guitar over it (think "Don't Make Me Over" at one point).
It's corny and untrue to say "Elvis is back" or even hint this is a comeback. The sly dog didn't go away, and besides, he knew what he was doing all along.
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