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Costello's new album, All This Useless Beauty, is the cornerstone of the show. It's a considered, thoughtful and occasionally very funny record, and the tracks picked from Costello's vast back catalogue to accompany the new songs tonight, the second of four Fridays in July, tended to be less the visceral catharsis that he built his reputation on (no "I Want You," no "I'll Wear It Proudly"), and more the stylistic exercises with which he consolidated it (plenty of the "Beyond Belief" and "Man Out of Time" ilk).
This made for an evening that, while largely uninvolving, was always listenable, save for a couple of ham-fisted medleys of old and new ("Distorted Angel" and "I Don't Want to Go to Chelsea" are as well-suited to each other as ice-cream and anchovies) and a couple of instances of flagrant showing off by The Attractions — it's probably forgivable, but the blaring subtext of their instrument-swapping for "Pump It Up" and "Miracle Man" was "Hey, we're The Attractions and we're conjuring this fearsome, wall-shaking Stax groove with a bass, a maraca, a floor-tom and a piano accordion just because we can."
An OK show from a great talent, which is always a frustrating experience. A year ago, Costello began his month of Fridays with a ferociously bad-tempered and unforgettably brilliant show, but sustaining that kind of intensity is difficult enough for people who aren't middle-aged and successful with nothing left to prove. Perhaps what Costello's residency needs is a return of the wheel of fortune that he once used to pick his sets. The introduction of some random factor that would make his shows feel slightly edgy would make a big difference. It'd be a shame, at this stage, for Elvis Costello, of all people, to settle for being a pretty good night out.
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