|
At the risk of offending Burt Bacharach fans, it seems fair to suggest that Elvis Costello is one of the most talented songwriters alive today. Since 1977, when My Aim Is True took the music industry by storm, Costello has released some six albums worth of consistently accomplished original material — some of it brilliant (such as the songs found on last year's Imperial Bedroom); most of it at the least very good. As Costello's own standards for his work appear to be quite high, his efforts are inevitably more interesting than most other releases in his genre.
In this light, Punch the Clock fares quite well. The songs are bright and melodic, the tunes are memorable, and the biting Costello wit is still intact. Nothing grates, no song is too demanding. It's crisp, clean pure pop of which his former producer Nick Lowe would be most proud.
Compared to the achievement of Imperial Bedroom, however, the new album ultimately disappoints. Costello has responded to the former record's lack of commercial success by making Punch the Clock overt where Bedroom was subtle; loud and brassy where its predecessor was quiet and subdued. Virtually all the new songs fit this same mould; the two notable exceptions, "Pills and Soap" and "Shipbuilding," easily the finest compositions on the album, seem strangely out of place here.
The record has an eerie quality about it; Elvis seems more than a touch uncomfortable with his new "sound." Perhaps the awkward brashness can be interpreted as a resurfacing of his earlier rage, though this time in a musical form, and directed not at the industry, but at a fickle and unappreciative public.
|
