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Last week my wife mentioned Elvis Costello was coming to town. It's been a while since we went to a proper rock concert (The last being Rita Moreno at the Plush Room — man, we're old), so tickets were purchased and plans to postpone bedtime were made. As a long time fan, I own the vast majority of Costello's major albums, with the exception of Kojak Variety, the more recent The River In Reverse, and various superfluous compilation albums. But this would be the first time I'd seen him perform live.
So what album is this tour in support of? Well, two compilation albums: The Best Of The First Ten Years and Rock And Roll Music — no new material. However, in terms of my first Elvis Costello concert experience, this old-is-new proved to be a positive. The set list was as though an indie rock fan reviewed all 4,529,284 Elvis Costello songs and eliminated everything non-rock or cute. Therefore, no Burt Bacharach, string quartets, North, Il Sogno, Punch The Clock-style horns, Dirty Dozen Brass Band, or duets with Anne Sofie von Otter (yes, I even have that CD) set foot in the Warfield. All left was "rock."
Now, Costello's definition of "rock" means: tribal drums (Pete Thomas), hammer-handed rhythm guitar strumming, a vocalist spewing words like a chainsaw through a dictionary (his quote, not mine), oddly placed tremolo guitar noises, and bass (Davey Faragher) and keyboard embellishments (Steve Nieve) sprayed all over everything, as if to compete with that chainsaw plowing ahead with five gears in reverse.
It also meant near-minimalist efficiency. Barely a word was uttered by the shades-and-suited Costello (think the cover of Trust) as he led the Imposters through clangy song after song, seamlessly moving from one to the next, only pausing for a sip of water and an odd, suspicious pose a few steps away from the microphone.
It seemed Elvis Costello and the Imposters had something to prove, perhaps that fifty-year-olds (well, save the bassist) can still thump out this askew brand of rock and exhaust the audience. Many songs clanged forth that I had no confidence he'd attempt, namely "Beyond Belief," "Uncomplicated" and "Lipstick Vogue." The only "slow" songs were "Little Triggers," "Country Darkness," and "Alison."
Yet I can't say he was pandering by playing only classic, early-career tunes or hits. There was no "Veronica," "Everyday I Write The Book" or "Oliver's Army."
But there was a whiff of: what artistic heights does Costello have to climb anymore? After making company with cellists, Paul McCartney, Diana Krall, and Hollywood movie ballads, what use does he have for artistic pretension? Everybody already considers him a stellar songwriter, even if they don't buy his CDs. So this was just straight rock performance, no "yeah, the Juliet Letters was brilliant," while stifling a yawn. He's earned his stripes, and so the right to strip them away.
Near evening's end, I muttered to my wife, at this rate — he'll certainly play "Radio, Radio" and "Pump It Up" — and of course The Delivery Man delivered. The last song was "What's So Funny About Peace, Love And Understanding" and the Imposters suddenly vanished into the shadows as efficiently as their take on rock and roll.
Note: Costello also played two Beatles songs: "All I've Got To Do" and "Hey Bulldog." Both have moments totally appropriate for that Elvis sneer ("you can talk to me"). I feel he'd pass the audition for the John Lennon role in the non-existent Beatles' reunion.
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