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Now that enough so-called new wave musicians have been out playing and making records, the cream is rising to the surface while everyone else is sinking in see-through hype.
Elvis Costello, Mink DeVille and Nick Lowe are the real thing, the dynamic musical present and probably the shape of its future.
Wednesday they performed together at Winterland in one of the best triple-bills in ages. It was easy to endure the low fidelity sound system and poorly-designed lighting rig, simply because the music was so vital.
The 5,000 new rock fans who turned out were evidence that in the Bay Area at least there is not just a strong interest, but a demand for new music when it promises to be good. The biggest bummer of the evening was Nick Lowe's opening set. Not that it was bad; just the opposite: it was too enjoyable to cut short after half an hour.
Englishman Lowe has had, on an underground level, a highly successful career in the past few years. Starting as vocalist for Brinsley Schwarz band, he now produces Costello's albums, and has done the same for Graham Parker and others. But he also writes pop singles, most under three minutes long, and each a gem of pop craftsmanship.
Lowe's show reflected the same attention. Backed by his band Rockpile (including guitarist-singer Dave Edmunds), Lowe opened with "So It Goes," a quick look at the craziness of music and a reflection on the state of Western Civilization, a masterpiece in miniature with the refrain, "but where it's going no one knows." "They Call It Rock," "Heart of the City" and even "(I Love the Sound of) Breaking Glass" were loaded with rockabilly and early greaser rock 'n' roll sounds (including Bo Diddley rhythms and Everly Brothers harmonies) brought up to date and delivered with high-volume punch.
New York-based Mink DeVille can trace its roots to the Bay Area, where the band got together, including Alameda drummer T.R. Allen. Last year the band was a sparkling showcase for leader-singer Willy DeVille's ability to copy other great singers from Mitch Ryder to Lou Reed. Now he concentrates on making everything sound either like Ben E. King doing "Spanish Harlem" or like himself, especially on the rockers like "Spanish Stroll" and "Cadillac Walk."
DeVille doesn't just come out and play music; he presents a New York street-scene show. With high pompadour and three-piece black suit hung tightly over his skinny frame, Willy struts his stuff and seems about to break into a flamenco dance. Instead, he delivers the quivering ballads like "Venus of Avenue D" and "Mixed Up, Shook Up Girl," before throwing a towel over his shoulder and tearing through "Soul Twist," finishing it off with a leap in the air, landing in a record knee-drop.
DeVille and crew (especially saxophonist, castanet and maracas player David Leathers) have a late '50s-early '60s approach that seems dated compared to Costello, but it provides a romantic side to rock that neither Lowe nor Costello touch.
Clearly, from the crowd response, the man of the night was former angry man Elvis (he even changed one song to "I'm Not Angry Anymore"). This was Englander Costello's third local appearance in seven months. Each time around his approach becomes more simplified (he had the least equipment on stage, and only a spare trio for backing), and in the trimming process the music gains strength.
In an hour's time Costello and his Attractions played 16 songs (all Costello originals), with nary a beat missed between numbers.
His stage presence is riveting, even in a hall the size of Winterland. The pulse of his music is inescapable, from new tunes to those off his first two albums, although "The Beat," "Lipstick Vogue," "Watching the Detectives" and the punkoid takeoff on Bob Dylan's "Subterranean Homesick Blues," "Pump It Up."
What the three bands really have in common is individuality and a to-the-point, no frills approach to modern music. Each has his message (Lowe's is more amusing, DeVille's is emotional pleading, and Costello's is anger and action), and it is delivered in melodic, memorable tunes. When the rest of the new wave hits low tide, this trio should still be riding the crest, carried by that factor you don't learn, you just are blessed with: talent.
This was the last date on a cross-country tour.
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