Street Fever, December 1977

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Street Fever
  • 1977 December


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A bunch of Stiffs — live!

Bath University

Donald Robertson

Nick Lowe bounds on stage and launches straight into fast rock 'n' roll. He only plays a short warm-up set but its solid, no-nonsense stuff. His band sounds like they've been playing the music all their lives. Lowe plays fast rhythm guitar leaving the lead to Larry Wallis, ex-heavy metal axeman with Motorhead. After three songs, Wallis steps forward and does a couple of his own numbers in the same vein. Then Dave Edmunds joins Nick and the band for a gutsy rendition of Nick's classic "Heart of the City" single. The crowd is appreciative.

Next on, Wreckless Eric. As soon as I see him I know: he's going to be great. He looks such a loser. If New Wave has done anything it's given the losers a break. His band looks amazing. On drums, polio victim Ian Dury. On bass Dury's girlfriend, a tall beautiful Jamaican lady who stands perfectly still, beaming at Wreckless as he pours out his songs. A stray saxophonist injects some quirky runs, and a keyboard player completes the line-up.

Most of the material was unfamiliar but it didn't matter. Eric played with enough commitment to win the crowd over. Ian Dury bashes out the basic rhythm, grimacing with concentration. The sweat from his face flies everywhere. Wreckless stands unmoving at the mike, his voice breaking with emotion. The sound is simple with lots of spaces between the instruments. Uncluttered and effective. His single "Whole Wide World" is greeted with roars of approval and rightly so. If 1977 hadn't been such a great year for singles it'd have to be single of the year. As it is it'd be in the top three. Wreckless Eric looks like he's been down so long he can't believe he's a rock 'n' roll star. He comes over as so genuinely nervous you have to feel for him. He sings neurotic love songs with a punchy beat. At the end of his final song he has to be carried off stage by a burly roadie. The release of pent-up emotion has proved too much.

After Wreckless, Elvis Costello and the Attractions come on. Looking really smart in a three piece suit, Elvis was undoubtedly the star of the show. I'd heard he was a nervous performer, but it certainly didn't show — in fact he is in complete control the moment he hit the boards. The Attractions provide a crisp, precise back drop-for Elvis' rapier-sharp lyrics. "Less than Zero" from the album is instantly recognisable. Elvis has a great sense of musical rhythm, he knows when to stop and change. He reminds me a little of Graham Parker and the Rumour, though Parker is tighter and has a rawer voice. But it's the lyrics that stand out.

The stand-out track of the set — of the whole concert, was "Watching the Detectives," now released as a single. Thudding bass, hypnotic reggae beat and Elvis shouting out the chorus, "Watching the detectives/ Don't get cute/ Watching the detectives/ They shoot, shoot, shoot." It's brilliant!!

Elvis is an original. His versatility, especially as a songwriter is stunning, and on the evidence of the new material he has just begun to amaze us. The crowd brings him back for two encores, "Blame it on Cain" and "Red Shoes."

When he finally leaves the stage, Mick turns to me and yells over the crowd, "That guy is going to be a star!"

All this excitement is getting a bit much, so we fight our way through the crowds to the bar for some liquid refreshment. As a result we miss the beginning of Ian Dury's set. When we get back down the place is rocking. There's no doubt Dury has an arresting stage presence. He has swapped his drumming outfit of a T-shirt and tea cosy hat for a white suit and is stomping around the front of the stage inciting the crowd to riot. With his hair cropped short on top and straggling down the back of his bull-like neck he looks like a cross between Rasputin and The Incredible Hulk. Between songs he harangues the crowd with shouts of "Blockheads" (which turns out to be his last song) and other quaint cockney slogans. I am physically drained after pogoing throughout Wreckless and Elvis so I am incapable of dancing, but the crowd is jumping all over the place.

I pitied whoever had to play last because by that stage the whole thing was accelerating into the realms of overkill. According to the pre-concert publicity the playing order was changed nightly, so the problem was shared equally and that for me was one of the beautiful things about the concert and the whole Stiff enterprise. It's a real family affair. Everyone plays in each other's band, Everyone lends a helping hand. And that's a very healthy antidote to anyone's superstar ego-trips.

It was only fitting that when Ian Dury was called back for an encore everyone on the tour, Nick Lowe, Wreckless, Elvis, Dave Edmunds, Larry and all the supporting musicians come on too, to treat us to a blitzkrieg brain-destroying performance of Ian's new single, "Sex, Drugs and Rock 'n' roll." That finished everyone off. And what better sentiments to close on?

While all this mayhem had been going on, a tremendous electrical storm had been raging outside. Sally, Mick and I were sitting out out on the stairs when Elvis walked by, underneath us. If we hadn't just seen him participate in one of the most energetic, satisfying concerts ever I doubt we'd have given him a second glance.

1977 — the year of the little guy.


Street Fever, No. 1, December 1977

Donald Robertson reviews Stiff's Greatest Stiffs, Friday, October 7, 1977, Bath University, England.

Donald Robertson reviews the single for "Watching The Detectives."


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Page scans.

Watching the Detectives

Elvis Costello

Donald Robertson

1977-12-00 Street Fever page 05.jpg

This is possibly the most brilliant single yet thrown up by the New Wave. A fusion of reggae beat and sharp rock rhythm looping along underneath the most arresting set of lyrics I've heard since reading Raymond Chandler's Big Sleep. Real poetry.

"They beat him up till the teardrops start,
But he can't be wounded cos he's got no heart"

There are snatches of the Third Man theme in there for you to discover just to add that original Detective flavour. The song is about being in love with a girl in love with T.V. unreality.

"She draws his eyes out with a face like a magnet,
She's filing her nails while they're dragging the lake"

The mood of laconic bitterness is cleverly concealed by the beat and chorus.

"Watching the detectives,
Don't get cute,
Watching the detectives,
They shoot, shoot, shoot."

But if you listen hard you'll see how sharp the words really are.

On the flip are live versions of "Blame it on Cain" and "Mystery Dance" recorded at the Nashville in London. They show just what a fucking tight rocking little band Elvis has got. The single has just entered the British charts. If anyone on Adelaide radio has any taste (doubtful) it could be the first big New Wave smash. Elvis is dead — LONG LIVE ELVIS.

Photographer unknown.
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Cover and page scan.
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