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Elvis Costello is my hero. So you say, "I thought the New Wave outlawed heroes" or more intelligent yet: "Elvis Costello? He's not even punk, really..." Well, if that's you talking, you can fuck off!
This narrow-minded attitude will probably be the downfall of this New Wave. If kids can't play The Pistols next to Elvis, The Clash next to Nick Lowe, these stupid restrictions (preferably 2 minute double-time songs about something teenage) you're severely limiting your ability to appreciate this new music. Besides, Slash panned his lp — that ought to tell you Elvis is great!
His lp My Aim Is True is an insta-classic of spiritual masochism, self-hate and even some sentimental love in spite of it. He writes real songs; concentrating on lyrics, arranging and music. Elvis is, above all, an artist and a musician and those are not dirty words, m-a-a-a-n! His persona is wonderfully warped and quirky, I mean who would look like that on purpose? My Aim Is True, though, seems immature musically when compared to his excellent new 45 "Watching The Detectives," a reggae song about a guy who kills his girlfriend in a rage because she's so enrapt with Starsky and Hutch; his new band the Attractions aid him immeasurably.
I saw him both nights when he played the Whisky and the dancefloor was refreshingly free of pogoers; also the audience was the weirdest cross-section I've ever seen.
The band is creative, tight, entertaining and boasts a truly amazing drummer and keyboard player. They don't hold a candle to Elvis, though.
He looks like a bizarre wimp in horn rims but ironically is a totally captivating charismatic figure. He exudes confidence and total commitment and his little dramatic flourishes are so apt, he is the complete rock figure with personality, direction and talent.
Saturday night, though, he proved he will go the distance for integrity. Whatever humor is present in his work, he sure takes himself dead-seriously. There was this human-redwood, totally drunk, standing in front of Elvis blurting out dull comments during the show. I didn't even realize Elvis noticed when suddenly he picked up a full drink and doused the guy. This man was pissed off to say the least and launched the drink he was holding, only hitting the organ. Elvis, never stopping, calmly busted the glass on a monitor and held the shattered end up to the guy's face until Jake Riviera reached the heckler. Unsure of the consequences, Elvis unstrapped his guitar and held it axe-like ready to crush the guy's skull if he didn't leave post-haste, which he did.
It may have been an over-reaction on Elvis' part (it might have been a deeper conflict, who knows?) But the moral is: it was probably the most heroic rock 'n' roll moment I've ever seen. A quiet ex-computer programmer demanded his right to play and the according respect for being an artist. It was more angry, more violent and more honest a reaction than a pathetic Stiv Bators, a boring Iggy or a naked Capt. Sensible were able to muster this past six months. Don't tell me about punk — he's not blank, I'm not blank and the decision is in New-Wavers' hands if they can make their own minds up; a phenomenon I've seen pathetically little of so far.
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