Creem, February 1978: Difference between revisions
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''(As Elvis Costello is set to tour the States, as Elvis Costello has a brilliant debut album out on CBS Records, My Aim Is True, and as we're tired of your whining that there's nuthin' new and good, we would like to introduce you to Elvis via this English article. We don't have to introduce you to writer Nick Kent, who has often graced these pages. Elvis signed to Jake Riviera and Dave Robinson's Stiff Records in August 1976. Recently the partnership between Robinson and Riviera was dissolved, and Riviera departed the record company with Elvis and a few other Stiff acts. At presstime Elvis still had no U.K. record company, but thanks to his American deal with CBS, YOU can have Elvis. OK? — Ed.) | ''(As Elvis Costello is set to tour the States, as Elvis Costello has a brilliant debut album out on CBS Records, My Aim Is True, and as we're tired of your whining that there's nuthin' new and good, we would like to introduce you to Elvis via this English article. We don't have to introduce you to writer Nick Kent, who has often graced these pages. Elvis signed to Jake Riviera and Dave Robinson's Stiff Records in August 1976. Recently the partnership between Robinson and Riviera was dissolved, and Riviera departed the record company with Elvis and a few other Stiff acts. At presstime Elvis still had no U.K. record company, but thanks to his American deal with CBS, YOU can have Elvis. OK? — Ed.) | ||
El's already had his share of controversy, y'know. Yessir, even the National Front have apparently been trying to dog his tracks ever since the release of the first-ever Costello vinyl artifact "Less Than Zero" (a Stiff 45) which bears a heavy anti-N.F. bias the song itself being a tacitly fanciful depiction of the landed gentry's lave black sheep boy of the Isherwood era, Oswald Mosley. | El's already had his share of controversy, y'know. Yessir, even the National Front have apparently been trying to dog his tracks ever since the release of the first-ever Costello vinyl artifact "Less Than Zero" (a Stiff 45) which bears a heavy anti-N.F. bias the song itself being a tacitly fanciful depiction of the landed gentry's lave black sheep boy of the Isherwood era, Oswald Mosley. | ||
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''"Let's talk about the future now we've put the past away."'' | ''"Let's talk about the future now we've put the past away."'' | ||
We're in a pub just round the corner from Island Records' St. Peters Square building, Elvis and me, talking about the subject matter of " | We're in a pub just round the corner from Island Records' St. Peters Square building, Elvis and me, talking about the subject matter of "Less Than Zero" when Jake Riviera suddenly pipes up with the information that all the Yanks who've heard it think it's about Lee Harvey Oswald. | ||
"Yeah right," Costello's terse gruff voice breaks in. | "Yeah right," Costello's terse gruff voice breaks in. | ||
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I touch my forelock at the imparting of this factoid. After all, being in a Costello song is a deal more prestigious than being a name in this little black book he carries around, and which possibly might soon be making quite a name for itself. | I touch my forelock at the imparting of this factoid. After all, being in a Costello song is a deal more prestigious than being a name in this little black book he carries around, and which possibly might soon be making quite a name for itself. | ||
Elvis's black book? Oh, it's just full of these names of folk who have crossed our El, who have hindered the unravelling of his true destiny these past years. Maybe they were responsible for not signing him to their label (prior to the Stiff inking this is) or maybe they referred to him as another | Elvis's black book? Oh, it's just full of these names of folk who have crossed our El, who have hindered the unravelling of his true destiny these past years. Maybe they were responsible for not signing him to their label (prior to the Stiff inking this is) or maybe they referred to him as another Van Morrison sound-alike. | ||
Whatever the cause, they're all marked men, cows before the slaughter, names and livelihoods about to come under the thunder of Costello. | Whatever the cause, they're all marked men, cows before the slaughter, names and livelihoods about to come under the thunder of Costello. | ||
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My single encounter with Costello was revelatory basically because we both ended up drunk and talked for some four hours. Still he refused to discuss his past musical endeavors in any detail and it was only afterwards, by chance, that I learnt about his former identity as one D.P. Costello, lead singer of a bluegrass group called [[Flip City]] whose collective high-point was the totally unexciting fact of them having a residency as house support-band at the Marquee maybe two years back. | My single encounter with Costello was revelatory basically because we both ended up drunk and talked for some four hours. Still he refused to discuss his past musical endeavors in any detail and it was only afterwards, by chance, that I learnt about his former identity as one D.P. Costello, lead singer of a bluegrass group called [[Flip City]] whose collective high-point was the totally unexciting fact of them having a residency as house support-band at the Marquee maybe two years back. | ||
" 'Course nobody wanted to know back ''then''. And" — Costello turns quite venomous at this point — "neither were ''you!'' I remember the time you came down to the Marquee when we were supporting | " 'Course nobody wanted to know back ''then''. And" — Costello turns quite venomous at this point — "neither were ''you!'' I remember the time you came down to the Marquee when we were supporting Dr. Feelgood and you spent all your time in the dressing-room talking to Wilko Johnson. You didn't even bother to check us out. Oh no! And I really resented you for that, y'know. For a time, anyway. You were almost down there on my list." | ||
Costello always seems to double back to this unhealthy infatuation of his with wreaking vengeance on his self-proclaimed wrong-doers. He now almost relishes the fact that literally every record company in Britain he approached with his demo tape turned him down, and admits that the years of bottling up the vast frustrations of being a nonentity out in the cold looking for a foot in the door have granted him the basic ego-drive with which he intends to bring the whole music scene to its feet right now. | Costello always seems to double back to this unhealthy infatuation of his with wreaking vengeance on his self-proclaimed wrong-doers. He now almost relishes the fact that literally every record company in Britain he approached with his demo tape turned him down, and admits that the years of bottling up the vast frustrations of being a nonentity out in the cold looking for a foot in the door have granted him the basic ego-drive with which he intends to bring the whole music scene to its feet right now. | ||
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Costello's slightly nervy abruptness of manner has vanished completely to be replaced by the style of a man totally coldly calculatingly confident. The real Elvis Costello finally is now ready to open up. | Costello's slightly nervy abruptness of manner has vanished completely to be replaced by the style of a man totally coldly calculatingly confident. The real Elvis Costello finally is now ready to open up. | ||
The first volley goes something like this, tying in with Costello's surprising infatuation with country music, particularly the work and lives of two heroes of his, | The first volley goes something like this, tying in with Costello's surprising infatuation with country music, particularly the work and lives of two heroes of his, George Jones and Gram Parsons. Parsons' blighted life and times he is particularly enamored of. | ||
"Yeah Gram Parsons had it all sussed. He didn't stick around — he made his best work and then he died. That's the way I want to do it. I'm never going to stick around long enough to churn out a load of mediocre crap like all those guys from the '60s. I'd rather kill myself. I mean, Parsons' exit was perfect." | "Yeah Gram Parsons had it all sussed. He didn't stick around — he made his best work and then he died. That's the way I want to do it. I'm never going to stick around long enough to churn out a load of mediocre crap like all those guys from the '60s. I'd rather kill myself. I mean, Parsons' exit was perfect." | ||
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However, he claims that he was viewed upon as a factory "freak" — an object of mild affection and ridicule even though he looked as pastily anonymous as he does now (El's worn the same hairstyle, clothes and bi-focals for years now, or so he claims). | However, he claims that he was viewed upon as a factory "freak" — an object of mild affection and ridicule even though he looked as pastily anonymous as he does now (El's worn the same hairstyle, clothes and bi-focals for years now, or so he claims). | ||
We talked about other songwriters — First, the obvious ones like | We talked about other songwriters — First, the obvious ones like Springsteen who El reckons to be a lousy lyricist — "His stuff about being on the streets is trite and unbelievable — the only song I like of his is 'E Street Shuffle'. I heard it in the bath once and thought it had a good riff." | ||
And Van Morrison — El just sneers and claims he's never even heard ''Astral Weeks''. So much for influences. | And Van Morrison — El just sneers and claims he's never even heard ''Astral Weeks''. So much for influences. Lou Reed and Patti Smith El's hardly heard a note of — "though I never miss reading one of their interviews." | ||
Only the name of | Only the name of Pete Townshend produces anything like an interesting retort. | ||
'Yeah well his early stuff of course — I mean, ' | 'Yeah well his early stuff of course — I mean, 'Substitute' is a perfect song but he blew it by being too bright for his own good, too analytical. Actually, that's one thing — I'm wary of falling into the same trap that Townshend did. There's parallels there — they've already been noted. It's the same thing as being called the balladeer of the new wave' by one paper because of 'Alison'. | ||
"See I'm 22 — that's only one year older than Johnny Rotten, isn't it. I just don't want to become the 'elder statesman of punk' or whatever, which is just what Townshend got locked into back in the 60's. It's a dangerous position." | "See I'm 22 — that's only one year older than Johnny Rotten, isn't it. I just don't want to become the 'elder statesman of punk' or whatever, which is just what Townshend got locked into back in the 60's. It's a dangerous position." | ||
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He really has no friends. | He really has no friends. | ||
He's just written another song about the National Front called " | He's just written another song about the National Front called "Night Rally." | ||
He personally scans all gig lists making sure that anyone whose name was down but who didn't turn up the last time his name was included is struck off the Est forevermore. | He personally scans all gig lists making sure that anyone whose name was down but who didn't turn up the last time his name was included is struck off the Est forevermore. | ||
Jake Riviera and | Jake Riviera and Nick Lowe both think he's loopy but a genius to boot. | ||
Finally — if they ever do another ''Rock Dreams'' book Elvis Costello will surely be in there along with the rest. He'll be the mousey figure, all insect anonymity, seated in a tube train carriage in his insurance clerk-suit and misty bifocals mostly hidden by a copy of the ''Evening Standard'' with Elvis Presley's death announced in grandstand type alongside the latest tales of National Front marches and King's Road Punks-Teds confrontations. | Finally — if they ever do another ''Rock Dreams'' book Elvis Costello will surely be in there along with the rest. He'll be the mousey figure, all insect anonymity, seated in a tube train carriage in his insurance clerk-suit and misty bifocals mostly hidden by a copy of the ''Evening Standard'' with Elvis Presley's death announced in grandstand type alongside the latest tales of National Front marches and King's Road Punks-Teds confrontations. | ||
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'''Creem, February 1978 | '''Creem, February 1978 | ||
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[[Nick Kent]] profiles Elvis Costello. <span style="font-size:92%"> | [[Nick Kent]] profiles Elvis Costello. <span style="font-size:92%"> (from [[New Musical Express, August 27, 1977|''NME'', Aug. 27, 1977]]; slightly edited.)</span> | ||
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[[Mitch Cohen]] reviews ''[[My Aim Is True]]''. | [[Mitch Cohen]] reviews ''[[My Aim Is True]]''. | ||
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This bandit summer, this snatcher of heroes, loved ones and possibilities, will be remembered also for leaving behind intoxicating rock and roll, with this album near the top of the pile. Since August, competing for attention as a Stiff import with posthumous programming of Costello's namesake's output, ''My Aim Is True'' has been an antidote to the power failure all around us. In his preoccupation with frustration and mental revenge, his cynicism stemming from a realization that life's guarantees are worthless, and his imperturbably buoyancy in the face of it all, Elvis Costello is a contender. It doesn't even hurt that he styles himself a '50s schlemiel; his voice is captivatingly abrasive, his songs are, without exception, expertly crafted miniatures: there are 13 here (Columbia added his new U.K. single), and not one your stylus begs to skip, not one that doesn't reveal something special about Costello's sensibility or talent. Every song has ideas to burn and a memorable chorus. The title (from the hauntingly tough-tender "[[Alison]]") speaks chapters: his aim—his purpose and prowess—is true. | This bandit summer, this snatcher of heroes, loved ones and possibilities, will be remembered also for leaving behind intoxicating rock and roll, with this album near the top of the pile. Since August, competing for attention as a Stiff import with posthumous programming of Costello's namesake's output, ''My Aim Is True'' has been an antidote to the power failure all around us. In his preoccupation with frustration and mental revenge, his cynicism stemming from a realization that life's guarantees are worthless, and his imperturbably buoyancy in the face of it all, Elvis Costello is a contender. It doesn't even hurt that he styles himself a '50s schlemiel; his voice is captivatingly abrasive, his songs are, without exception, expertly crafted miniatures: there are 13 here (Columbia added his new U.K. single), and not one your stylus begs to skip, not one that doesn't reveal something special about Costello's sensibility or talent. Every song has ideas to burn and a memorable chorus. The title (from the hauntingly tough-tender "[[Alison]]") speaks chapters: his aim—his purpose and prowess—is true. | ||
Yes, you can call it "new wave": a tactical combination of the anarchic and the absorption of "classical" influences. ''My Aim Is True'' is so dramatic an entrance, such a total picture of its maker's worldview and personal use of rock grammar, that it's like ''Breathless''. A B-movie with a difference. Even Costello's moral stance fits. He's a sensitive punkabilly, continually getting dumped on by girls. In his (our) world, the men are romantics, looking for touchstone love; the women more practical and self-preserving. Belmondo and Seberg. "We could sit like lovers staring in each other's eyes/But the magic of the moment might become too much for you," he sings. On " | Yes, you can call it "new wave": a tactical combination of the anarchic and the absorption of "classical" influences. ''My Aim Is True'' is so dramatic an entrance, such a total picture of its maker's worldview and personal use of rock grammar, that it's like ''Breathless''. A B-movie with a difference. Even Costello's moral stance fits. He's a sensitive punkabilly, continually getting dumped on by girls. In his (our) world, the men are romantics, looking for touchstone love; the women more practical and self-preserving. Belmondo and Seberg. ''"We could sit like lovers staring in each other's eyes / But the magic of the moment might become too much for you,"'' he sings. On "(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes" a strange Faustian bargain doesn't prevent a girl from telling him to drop dead as she leaves with someone else; on "I'm Not Angry," another tale of rejection, the key word is ''"anymore"'': one suspects that anger stopped only when turned into art. Girls are hard to please, he discovers on "Miracle Man"; they make comparisons, and fools of men who leave their wounds open. Costello is so tormented by this treatment that he makes the inability to do the "Mystery Dance" seem a sexual dysfunction. | ||
And all the time this tension is going on — he ''does'' have other subjects, like ad hoc guilt transferral (" | And all the time this tension is going on — he ''does'' have other subjects, like ad hoc guilt transferral ("Blame It On Cain"), the horrors of employment ("Welcome To The Working Week") and surrealistic depictions of societal breakdown ("Waiting For The End Of The World," "Watching The Detectives," "Less Than Zero") — the music, the Nick Lowe-produced environment for all this rancor, is being sensational. If he's his own lead guitarist (the wholly admirable musicians are anonymous), he's got the touch: economical, versatile, adept. Snappy rockers alternate with modern blues, lovely ballads, mood pieces. "Sneaky Feelings" crackles and pops. "No Dancing" reminds us that a wall of sound is next to nothing without a gliding melody beneath. Throughout, there's witty background singing and spare, aggressive playing, close in spirit to The Rumour (as vocally Costello is temperamentally akin to Graham Parker). | ||
The only questionable aspect of Elvis Costello is how far he'll take his misogyny, how long he'll keep blaming women because he was raised on romance and has had it pulled out from under him. He snarls, "Everybody loves you so much baby/I don't see how you can stand the strain" with the passion of mid-'60s Jagger, and it's great, it's even honest, and lesser men have made such sentiments springboards for whole careers. But such petulant putdowns indicate that he has some way to go before his emotional maturity matches his prodigious artistic skill. | The only questionable aspect of Elvis Costello is how far he'll take his misogyny, how long he'll keep blaming women because he was raised on romance and has had it pulled out from under him. He snarls, ''"Everybody loves you so much baby / I don't see how you can stand the strain"'' with the passion of mid-'60s Jagger, and it's great, it's even honest, and lesser men have made such sentiments springboards for whole careers. But such petulant putdowns indicate that he has some way to go before his emotional maturity matches his prodigious artistic skill. | ||
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Revision as of 14:09, 14 July 2018
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