|
Spontaneity has become too risky in this age of big-money rock concerts. To be safe, bands rely on cookie-cutter performances with every move planned from start to encore. Elvis Costello dares to be original.
Saturday night's show at the SDSU Open Air Theater was full of the unexpected. For the Almost Alone Tour, Costello is without his usual sidekicks, the Attractions.
The fans who have followed the cagy British singer/songwriter through his 13-album career were looking forward to the sensitivity that a solo performance can reveal. While some may have been initially disappointed by the absence of the Attractions, the show proved so provocative that those feelings couldn't last long.
Costello's producer/friend, Nick Lowe, opened the show with a spirited solo performance. "I stand before you naked," he said — referring to the fact that he had no backup musicians — "clad only in this $3,000 (acoustic) guitar." He then proceeded to knock off such favorites as "And So It Goes" and "Cruel to Be Kind." When the audience demanded an encore (unusual for an opening act), Lowe bolted back on stage to play an enthusiastic version of "I Knew the Bride," a tune made popular by Dave Edmunds, fellow Englishman and former member of Lowe's pop band Rockpile.
The lights dimmed and the stage crew produced an unusual set, complete with slide projector, Gatorade-stocked TV bar with bar stools, a huge chain-link Go-Go cage, and a tiny drum set.
Costello, once known as one of the most angry — and articulate — young punks of the late 1970s, started with an acoustic set that included oldie "Red Shoes" from his first album, My Aim Is True.
While Costello fans know and love his edgy, hoarse vocals, it was immediately obvious that his voice was not at its best. Actually, it seemed quite painful at times. He confessed, "I'm here against my doctor's advice!" and then went right into "Green Shirt."
Next he bid the audience, "Come with me on a trip around the world ... I've brought my holiday photos," and started a slide show of diverse and humorous pictures that he related to the songs he played.
Highlights of the first hour included a change from acoustic to electric guitar midway through "Uncomplicated" where the catchy lyrics wrapped around the guitar riffs in a way that brought the audience to their feet.
Also, new verses were added to the insightful and poetic "American Without Tears," and the Beatles' "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away" was beautifully blended with "New Amsterdam." The most stunning moments, however, came during his ballads. The confessional "I Want You," with its plaintive vocals, seemed all the more urgent with Costello's strained voice. Marred only by a few catcalls, there was more emotion in that one song than most bands give in an entire evening.
Nick Lowe was brought back for a folkish version of "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding" and though the harmony was a bit off-key, seeing the two music greats standing side by side and rattling off those acoustic chords was truly inspiring.
They then surprised the audience by saying goodnight. Was Costello's voice so bad that he could only play an hour? The audience screamed for more. Costello then reappeared a moment later in a black top hat yelling "Hello! I'm Napoleon Dynamite, your host for the rest of the evening!"
The crowd went wild and a back curtain went up to reveal the "Spectacular Spinning Songbook" — a 12-foot-tall wheel displaying 38 song titles. And so began Costello's own surrealistic game show.
Members of the audience were chosen to come up on stage and spin the wheel to determine which tunes would be played. They were then invited to sit at the TV bar or dance in the Go-Go cage. Costello also chose a young lady (at random) to accompany him on the tiny drum set. (She was good, too.)
The wheel landed on everything from oldies like "Alison" and "Girls Talk" to "Everyday I Write the Book" — the one Elvis song mainstream enough to make the U.S. pop charts in 1983. Amazingly, Costello's voice seemed to improve as the night went on.
As a show capper, Costello dove into a passionate version of "Pump It Up" with all the urgency and frustration it demands.
Costello is indeed one of the few rockers today to embody that honest, emotional rebellion that keeps him intriguing album after album. In a time when pop music prefers to be disposable, Costello remains sarcastic, witty, and unforgettable.
| 
