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ORLANDO — Bathed in an unearthly green light and wearing his black school teacher's glasses, Elvis Costello looked like anything but a rock star last night.
But his headlining set at the Orlando Jai-alai Fronton illustrated that he is one of the most interesting and dynamic new performers to come along in years.
Costello and his band ran through tunes from his first album, My Aim Is True, and the latest, This Year's Model.
(Costello also headlines the concert bill tonight at the Tampa Jai-Alai Fronton).
What sets Costello apart from other angry young rockers is his ability to mingle ballads along with high energy music.
His song, "Alison," and a new tune, "Party Girl," sound almost tender, but listen to this line from "Alison":
"Sometimes I wish I could stop you from talking, when I hear the silly things that you say."
And take this line from "The Beat": "I don't want to be your lover, I just wanna be your victim."
Costello's stage manner is business-like yet appealing. He avoids gimmicks, unless of course, you consider his narrow-lapelled, three-piece suit a gimmick.
Costello is not punk or new wave; what he is is a throw-back to the early days of rock and roll when the feeling was still primitive and undisciplined.
In two albums Costello has managed to combine catchy melodies with powerful, surreal lyrics without losing any of the intensity of punk rockers like the Sex Pistols.
Their concerns are somewhat the same. Like the Pistols, he is angry at boring existence, the "no future" the Pistols (used to) sing about.
Although Costello looks more like Buddy Holly than Johnny Rotten, his concert did bring out a few of the Orlando punks, their dress leaning toward garrish sunglasses, and their actions inclined to pogoing, the punk dance of bouncing frantically.
Costello's producer, Nick Lowe, opened the show with a high-octane 30-minute set, owing much to Chuck Berry and Little Richard.
Lowe did four songs from his diverse album, Pure Pot For Now People, but mostly — particularly on "They Called It Rock" — showed his four-member band's British interpretation of rock's roots.
Sandwiched between them was Mink DeVille, a New York band which travels in those mean streets frequented by Lou Reed and Southside Johnny.
But, for the most part, the band's vocals were lost in the overall sound, and the soul searching failed to move many in the disappointing crowd at the Jai-Alai Fronton.
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