|
AMHERST — Elvis Costello, who left a job as a computer programmer in England last year to record a critically-acclaimed rock album, succeeded in reversing the mood of a passive and irritated audience at the University of Massachusetts Student Union Ballroom Wednesday night, and left them on their feet shouting for an encore.
Costello, a slight, intense man whose black-rimmed glasses dominate a thin face, was responsible for the unrest when he threatened not to perform unless all cameras were confiscated from the audience.
A UMass spokesman Thursday said the camera ban was a contractual stipulation which was overlooked. Members of Costello's road crew reportedly became upset when they saw photographs taken during the opening act, Willie Alexander and the Boom Boom Band.
Several announcements were made from the stage while Costello's equipment was being set up, that he would not perform unless he was assured there were no cameras in the audience. Further, the show would be stopped at any time if a photograph was taken.
Despite promises that cameras would be tagged and kept safe during the concert, the crowd became increasingly angry, and it was questionable for a time whether Costello would appear.
As suddenly as the dispute began, Costello and his three-piece band, The Attraction, ran on stage, plugged in and began a set which built to a powerful finale.
When asked if the camera ban was merely a gimmick to agitate the crowd, a UMass spokesman said several cameras were confiscated before the performance. However, probably just as many were concealed under coats.
Costello, who reportedly adopted his name before the death of Elvis Presley last August, bore absolutely no resemblance to the late "King of Rock and Roll" as he paced the stage in a loose gray suit, blue shirt and narrow tie; looking more like he should be holding a stack of program cards than an electric guitar.
The set began with "Mystery Dance," a cut from his debut album, My Aim Is True, which has enjoyed good sales figures and considerable FM radio airplay since its release in this country late last year.
That song was followed by "Waiting for the End of the World." Despite the fact that his album received the "Rolling Stone Critics Award" last year, Costello did only two other songs, "Less than Zero" and "Red Shoes," from it, filling his set with other original material.
This point is essential to the "mystique" surrounding Elvis Costello. In an era when top-name pop stars do concerts consisting almost exclusively of new album cuts and their "greatest hits," it is unusual for a relatively unknown performer to virtually ignore familiar songs in favor of material the audience has not heard before.
But it didn't seem to make any difference Wednesday night. Costello's "unknown" material was received as well or better than his "hits," although "Red Shoes" drew an enthusiastic response, the audience clapping and singing along.
But Costello wanted more and jeered at the crowd to "Get up. Wake up. What do you think this is, a lecture?"
The ploy worked. For the last 10 or 15 minutes, nearly all of the 1,000 persons in the room were on their feet as Costello and his band fired off one raw, driving tune after another, building up tension and energy.
That tension burst into an absurd climax as the final song came to an end. The piano player somehow fell backward onto the keyboard, then kicked over two other keyboard instruments stacked on top of each other while Costello and the bassist threw their guitars into the drum set. The quartet then scurried offstage as if they suddenly had a plane to catch.
Despite chants of "Elvis, Elvis" reminiscent of the furor the late Presley ignited in his followers, there was no encore from the cryptic Costello and his band.
The concert opened with an energetic, but not well-received performance by Willie Alexander and the Boom Boom Band. Alexander, a veteran of the Boston bar-band circuit who, along with Costello, has been lumped into the category of "New Wave" or Punk Rock," seemed only able to excite his die-hard fans.
Nicknamed "Loco," Alexander is a very visual performer who alternated between playing a beat-up electric piano and stalking the stage. One moment he would be crouched and huddled in front of the bass drum, then would jump to life, spreading his arms wide above his head, wrapping himself up in the microphone cord, his face assuming menacing contortions.
His music, for the most part, was loud and fast; the songs conjuring up images of violence and decadence which is standard fare for "punk rock." Most notable was a tune called "Radio Heart" and an inappropriate version of the Righteous Brothers classic "You've Lost that Loving Feeling."
| 
