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If Elvis Costello has lived up to one of his own pre-election promises, it is already too late to buy one of this year's most provocative singles.
On the heels of "Shipbuilding," Robert Wyatt's chilling commentary on the Falklands war for which he wrote the lyrics, Costello released Pills & Soap (Demon IMP 001). For an assortment of tiresome contractual reasons it had to be credited to the Imposter, but its author promoted it personally throughout the election campaign and emphasised its political message by announcing that it would be deleted on June 9.
After a month of conspicuously clumsy "oratory" from too many of the professionals, "Pills & Soap" offers by contrast some genuinely elegant and memorable phrases in a telling essay on the austere compassionless 1980s.
The first target is the voyeurism of the media - "microphone in one hand, cheque book in the other... the camera noses in to the tears on her face."
The Government gives us our "daily bread in individual slices and something in the daily rag to cancel any crisis." The Press consists of "ash trays of emotion for the fag ends of the aristocracy."
Over a dramatic background of handclaps and relentless minor piano chords, Costello pleads for the needle and the rope. He wants to "melt them down for pills and soap."
I had intended this week to review some colourless and sadly predictable new albums from Rod Stewart - Body Wishes (Warners 92-3877), Elton John - Too Low For Zero (Rocket HISPD 24) and Crosby, Stills & Nash - Allies (Warners 78-0075). But as they pick over the bones of their decaying reputations none of them can compete with one simple, devastating single.
More effective is Speaking in Tongues (Sire 92-3883), a new collection of David Byrne's hypnotic hysteria from the Talking Heads.
Personally I find the Heads sounding more and more rural. Where once they evoked the panicky street beat of New York, there is now an unmistakable air of the pow-wow with Byrne shuffling out of the tepee for a quick bit of robot dancing round the camp fire.
But the lyrics are as taut and pertinent as ever. Like Costello, Byrne faces up to the challenge of making contemporary comments while so many vintage rockers turn their backs and retire into luxurious apathy.
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