"I was a fine idea, now I'm a brilliant mistake" is the opening confession of Elvis Costello's 11th LP, an album so racked with the guilt of missteps, deceptions and misunderstandings — a smouldering cover of The Animals' "Please Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" is in perfect context here that the listener may well experience as many sleepless nights as the author evidently has.
Declan MacManus is fed up with the masquerade of Elvis Costello. This is his transition album, full of apologies for the insipid posing and downright rip-offs of the past. (In a current magazine he calls his last hit, "Everyday I Write the Book," "a hack pop song... an exercise in writing that sort of bad Smokey Robinson song with all the tricks of the trade.")
As pompous as his new announcement sounds, he emerges sincere.
One, because he makes the move from smirking pop to aching country-rock slowly, releasing a mixture of both over 15 songs. Two, because his various supporting musicians, from Elvis Presley's TCB Band (James Burton, Jerry Scheff, Ron Tutt) and "new country" interpreters David Hidalgo and Mitchell Froom to his old chums The Attractions and Costello-MacManus himself, throw themselves into the material with reckless emotion. Three, he's writing without dishonest obfuscation or baldly derivative hooks.
The raw melancholy of "Our Little Angel," "Indoor Fireworks" (heard earlier this year on Nick Lowe's Rose of England) and "Little Palaces" will tear you apart, and that's before you hear the lyrics — "So you knock the kids about a bit because they've got your name, and you knock the kids about a bit until they feel the same."
Side two, with good-natured filler like "Eisenhower Blues" and the uninspired singing on "Suit of Lights" is weaker than the first, but there are nine magnificent songs on this album and a person's soul is on the line. That adds up to more than your money's worth.
|