New York Rocker, April 1981: Difference between revisions
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Before anyone’s even had the chance to burp after digesting ''Taking Liberties'' and ''Get Happy!!'' rock’s most compulsive malcontent shouts yet again upon our collective chest, funnel in hand, pouring another piping helping of his murky complaint fillled stew. Setting aside his potentially endearing qualities for a second, the sheer accelerating tonnage of his recent recorded output (54 tunes released domestically in the past year) compels us to ask: “What is this man going on about? Why does he set it to music? Can’t he go to the bathroom without writing a song about it? Here’s a man obviously driven by the need to communicate, yet his intentions are continually obscured by this obsession with the baroque filigree of mundane detail. He gives us endless examples of personal minutiae, in themselves quite lucid, but the fragments never coalesce. If one were to take a machete to this thorny gnarled forest of non-stop verbiage one still might never slice to the core of Elvis Costello. He will not say what he means and appears willing to go to great lengths in order not to say it. | Before anyone’s even had the chance to burp after digesting ''Taking Liberties'' and ''Get Happy!!'' rock’s most compulsive malcontent shouts yet again upon our collective chest, funnel in hand, pouring another piping helping of his murky complaint fillled stew. Setting aside his potentially endearing qualities for a second, the sheer accelerating tonnage of his recent recorded output (54 tunes released domestically in the past year) compels us to ask: “What is this man going on about? Why does he set it to music? Can’t he go to the bathroom without writing a song about it? Here’s a man obviously driven by the need to communicate, yet his intentions are continually obscured by this obsession with the baroque filigree of mundane detail. He gives us endless examples of personal minutiae, in themselves quite lucid, but the fragments never coalesce. If one were to take a machete to this thorny gnarled forest of non-stop verbiage one still might never slice to the core of Elvis Costello. He will not say what he means and appears willing to go to great lengths in order not to say it. | ||
His latest | His latest slate, ''Trust'', extends this imagery yet ? of inadequate manhood metaphor, paranoia, free thinking, dissatisfaction, fingers, knuckles, more fingers, women’s garments and portions of women’s garments. | ||
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Latest revision as of 15:01, 1 January 2017
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