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It was bound to happen: albums by both Elvises the same week. But it's not a fair matchup. The 14 Costello songs are new, many bristling with the vitality of the Englishman's invigorating Armed Forces LP in 1979. It's a must.
Unfortunately, the 10 Presley tunes aren't newly discovered classics from the RCA vaults. They are 10 old tracks that have been touched up instrumentally to make them more "competitive" in today's market. It's a mistake.
The albums, however, do show that the two Elvises have one thing in common: an affection for country music. All the tunes on Presley's album have a country tinge, while Costello's "(Put Your Rings on a) Different Finger" is a knockout of a honky-tonk cheatin' song. Sample lyric: "I don't want to hear your whole life story / Or about my strange resemblance to some old flame / All I want is one night of glory / I don't even know your second name."
Coupled with the haunting, gothic emotion of his earlier "Stranger in the House" and his impassioned treatment of Patsy Cline's "He's Got You" on his current tour, the track suggests that Costello ranks alongside John Fogerty and the late Gram Parsons as the most original and soulful interpreter of rock and country music since Presley.
Costello once wanted to be a pure country singer, but he didn't feel he'd be accepted as one because he's from England. He's probably right. Given his intensity and often impetuous manner, the country music establishment in Nashville would probably circle the wagons if Costello headed their way.
But that's an old story. The conservative Grand Ole Opry turned down Elvis Presley's audition and Gram Parsons never had a single on the country music charts. Small world, isn't it?
Guitar Man is a misguided attempt to rewrite pop history by doctoring tracks Presley recorded in the late 1960s and in the 1970s. The vocals were kept intact, but the instrumentation was altered to make it seem as if Elvis had re-recorded the songs today. That's as outrageous as publishers deciding that William Faulkner's novels would be more meaningful to today's readers if the setting were moved up to the 1980s.
Because he worked closely with Presley in the recording studio, Felton Jarvis, who produced this album before his death last month, knew enough about the rock star's musical sensibilities to lend some credence to the project, but he was given an impossible task. RCA should call a halt to what could be an endless series of revisions: "Elvis Goes Reggae" ... "Elvis Meets the L.A. Philharmonic" ... "Elvis Joins the Plasmatics."
The ironic thing about the album is that it starts off with "Guitar Man," which was the excellent 1968 single that signaled the return of the dynamic Elvis after years of those bland Hollywood sound-track albums. The original version had a striking, guitar-dominated country-rock feel that was intimate am! authoritative. The new arrangement is annoyingly busy, leaving the tune as soulless as those sound-track albums. Not everything is as disastrous as this track, but nothing on the record justifies the tampering. Avoid.
Trust, Costello's sixth album in five years, reaffirms that the Englishman is one of the most arresting lyricists ever in rock. Though it's again hard to make out some of the words because of Costello's tenacious style, the songs continue to be filled with imaginative rhymes and gripping images about the aftershock of romantic encounters. By not including a lyric sheet with the LP, he forces you to participate by piecing together what he's saying.
Singing with vein-bulging intensity against a swirling instrumental assault, Costello speaks in the feverish language of someone engaged in emotional combat, not someone simply reflecting upon it. The tone in Trust, however, is softer and more consoling than in the more embattled Armed Forces. The theme is the difficulty of establishing trust given the hazards of modern relationships. A key line: "Be on caution where lovers walk."
In the album, Costello contrasts innocence with corruption ("Even presidents have newspaper lovers / Ministers go crawling under the covers..."), desires and disillusionment ("Dreams never come cheap / I don't close my eyes when I go to sleep"), anticipation and despair ("He comes without warning / Leaves without feeling"). The music is sometimes tender ("Pretty words don't mean much any more") and sometimes explosive ("White knuckles on black and blue skin / He didn't mean to hit her but she was laughin'...").
With more than 80 songs on the six albums, Costello has established himself as both a prolific and consistent writer. There's not the slightest hint in this album that that's about to change.
This doesn't mean there aren't challenges for Costello. The question is whether he can make his music more accessible without diluting it, thereby hooking a wider audience. That's an especially tough task these days because of the conservativeness of Top 40 radio. Costello toyed with more inviting textures in his Armed Forces album, but retreated last year in Get Happy!! behind an often sketchy production style aimed chiefly at cultists. In Trust, he reopens the door to a wider audience.
The standout track in that regard is "From a Whisper to a Scream," a brilliant number about romantic fervor that is filled with the intoxicating rhythm of records like the Rolling Stones' "Have You Seen Your Mother, Baby" and Bruce Springsteen's "I'm a Rocker." Costello is joined on lead vocals by Squeeze's Glenn Tilbrook. Springsteen and Costello already form the most potent one-two artistic punch in rock in more than a decade. If "From a Whisper to a Scream" becomes a hit, Costello could also duplicate much of Springsteen's recent commercial advance. The Elvis name is in good hands.
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