Early in Elvis Costello's recording career, a reviewer remarked that Costello "must have listened to every rock album ever made." Seventeen albums and literally hundreds of songs later, that assessment remains true, with one qualifier: Maybe it's every album ever made.
On early efforts like My Aim Is True and This Year's Model, he concocted a rich melding of Motown and Memphis rhythm and blues, of rockabilly and reggae, of Buddy Holly's tenderness and Bob Dylan's bile, a sound that stood apart from the jackhammer rifling of late-'70s punk bands. As he evolved as both a writer and interpreter, he embraced torch songs, swing tunes, even an unsuccessful attempt at classical tone poems with the The Juliet Letters.
Costello's new Kojak Variety is a valentine to the singers and songwriters who've inspired him, from an artist who's never forgotten what it's like to be a fan.
That said, does "the El" succeed with this eclectic and eccentric collection of covers songs, which date from 1930 to 1970? For the most part, yes.
He fares better when not tackling compositions identified with some the preeminent artists of this century. "The Very Thought of You" is too fixed in this writer's mind with the great Billie Holiday to work within Costello's relatively limited vocal range. It's the same with Little Richard's "Bama Lama Bama Loo," Bob Dylan's "I Threw It All Away," and "Running Out Of Fools," recorded by Aretha Franklin during her stint with Columbia Records.
In contrast, Costello has a ball with Screamin' Jay Hawkins' "Strange" (done in his best Dylanesque bray), Willie Dixon's "Hidden Charms," "Whisperin'" Bill Anderson's pokey "Why Must You Throw Dirt In My Face" and James Carr's torrid "Pouring Water on a Drowning Man."
Save for drummer Pete Thomas, the Attractions are missing in action as Costello employs a stellar crew of session pros, including keyboardist Larry Knechtel, guitarist James Burton (former axman with that other Elvis) and guitarist Mark Ribot, who provides a tasty swing solo on "Hidden Charms."
"Who loves ya baby" was the catch phrase of the album's television namesake. No question here: The love affair between Costello and the music he cherishes is still going strong.
Thirteen years ago Costello released another disc of cover songs, Almost Blue, a collection of country classics recently reissued by Rykodisc as part of the label's ongoing series of Costello's Columbia recordings.
As on Kojak, the less obvious the choice of material, the better it works. Patsy Cline's "Sweet Dreams" has been the litmus test for two generations of female country singers, and there's little Costello can add to the sublime renditions previously done by Loretta Lynn and Reba McEntire. He's more at home with an obscure nugget like "Sittin' and Thinkin'," an early-'70s track by Charlie Rich, or when tossing reverence aside for a full-bore obliteration of Hank Williams Sr.'s "Why Don't You Love Me Like You Used To Do."
But Costello's finest foray into country music was four years earlier with "Stranger in the House" (on Ryko's 1993 reissue of My Aim is True). Later covered by George Jones, it effortlessly captured the homespun lyricism that's at the heart of country music and what's too often missing from Almost Blue, despite his best intentions.
Almost Blue came in the middle of a phenomenal creative spurt that began with My Aim Is True in 1977 and ended with Goodbye Cruel World seven years later, during which he released nine full-length albums, some with as many as 20 tracks per disc, and a blinding array of EPs, live tracks, outtakes and enough idiosyncratic selections to satisfy all but the most ravenous of collectors.
As with other reissues in Ryko's series, Almost Blue contains plenty of neglected treasures, doubling the length of the original set. Included are blistering takes of Johnny Cash's "Cry Cry Cry," the Burnette Brothers' "Honey Hush" and Gram Parsons' "I'm Your Toy," performed with Britain's Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.
Imperial Bedroom (1982) is widely considered Costello's masterpiece, and with good reason. His melodies are complex, but never convoluted, bracing rather than banal. The orchestrations, by Attractions' keyboardist Steve Nieve, are always challenging, especially on "Tears Before Bedtime," "Town Cryer" and the haunting "Man Out of Time."
Where a rawer Elvis used to overwhelm the listener with his fury, on Bedroom's" opening track, "Beyond Belief," he slowly lets the tension build, stating volumes in what's not unleashed.
Punch The Clock (1983) features his only American Top 40 hit, "Everyday I Write the Book," an infectious marriage of Jamaican reggae, South African "high life" and Philly soul. Also included is "Shipbuilding," perhaps his finest song ever. Written during Britain's war with Argentina over the Falkland Islands, its anti-war message is obliquely stated, the promise of an economic boom set against the horror that comes from the fruits of such labor, and capped with a brief moment of pure eloquence from the ill-fated trumpeter, Chet Baker.
Among the odds and sods grafted onto Punch The Clock are live versions of "The World and His Wife" and "Everyday I Write The Book" and an electrifying version of Yoko Ono's "Walking on Thin Ice."
"Congratulation! You've just purchased our worst album" — so Costello drolly writes in the liner notes for Goodbye Cruel World (Ryko's reissues are a must if only for Costello's often wry and always enlightening asides). It's a fair assessment, as his fans jumped off the bandwagon in droves with this release (who, me?).
In retrospect, the album has aged better than a lot of British pop from the Human League era. The horn-driven arrangements of Punch The Clock are more pronounced here. "Inch By Inch" is a forerunner to his late '80s work on Spike.
"I Want To Be Loved" is a nice try at the striking presence of the rotund Barry White, but it's one task that this slight Irishman from Liverpool, England, isn't ready for.
|