Two further releases from Costello's archives that underline what reissues should be about. Not only is there a generous album's worth of extended-play tracks added on to each of the original recordings, but there are extensive self-penned liner notes. On a purely functional level, the explanations and anecdotes for each of the tracks shed new light on what fans might have regarded as two of his most melancholy collections; knowing that a particular song was influenced by a musical reference or period as opposed to some tragic romance makes the whole experience seem a lot less harrowing — still personal, but less myopic.
On 1982's Imperial Bedroom, for example, you can put the Sergeant Pepper-style orchestral flourishes (provided in part by Pepper producer Geoff Emerick, in part by Steve Nieve) in a new perspective, with the knowledge that Emerick worked on the LP during a break in recording a Paul McCartney solo LP. You can feel how he was going for a real blast of a more extravagant past, with Costello and co trying out all sorts of instruments (Dobro, sitar, harpsichord, accordion) that might not have worked as well on a typical Nick Lowe production. The additional tracks include The Merseybeats' "Really Mystified" and a song originally written for the first solo LP from ABBA's Frida, which again sheds new light on Costello's later role as songwriter for Wendy James.
Almost Blue comes without the original warning sticker (about C&W music producing a radical reaction in narrow-minded people), which would have put a distasteful and dated stamp on the whole thing. The only song that really gets trashed in the reworking is Hank Williams' "Why Don't You Love Me" — the obligatory cow-punk track. What comes through loud and clear on the rest is Costello's dignified respect for Country giants such as George Jones and Patsy Cline. The additional tracks, recorded live in Aberdeen, include a pristine version of Cline's "She's Got You" and a splendid rendition of Johnny Cash's "Cry, Cry, Cry." The sound on both is close to studio quality, but then Costello doesn't go in for messy arrangements, which is why the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra sounds so right on "I'm Your Toy" (live at the Royal Albert Hall), when most orchestra-backed pop comes too close to Muzak for comfort. The formality of the song serves as a fitting punctuation mark for both releases, which collectively rubbish the notion that there can ever be too much of a good thing.
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