The book is simultaneously revealing and
guarded, in all the ways a Costello fan would expect it to be. Gloriously
written yet infuriatingly opaque. If fans know anything about Elvis it is that
he would be anything but obvious. What he does with great aplomb is to decipher
certain lyrics in such a way that I often wished for a compendium of his lyrics
with side-notes and references. It’s something I would buy, I suspect I’m not
alone.
Since the biog has no linear tendencies the
zig-zagging across the decades is occasionally perverse but eventually makes
sense. His form is to write of instances that remind him of why he ended up in
that position or artists that influenced this or that reference or song. There
is a lot about music, in some ways it’s all about music and his knowledge and
depths of references are bewildering in their expanse.
Elvis is the single artist by whom I own
the most work. In reading UM&DW I realised that I had barely scratched the
surface of his output. There were countless songs written for, and recorded by,
others of which I knew nothing. Added to this there are dalliances in genres of
music that I feared I would dislike but now yearn to hear.
Whilst reading the infinitely more linear, Detroit ’67, I had the urge to put together a Spotify playlist featuring every song in the order in which it was mentioned in the book. Of course, I didn’t do it, partly because life’s too short and partly as I was half-way through the book before I had the idea. With UM&DW the quest would’ve been equally unachievable by virtue of the incredible quantity of music referenced, it is a dizzying tribute to Elvis’ love of music and a remarkable testament to his father’s influence that it would take a lifetime to work your way through the sources.
Like a great gig will inspire you to visit
that act’s latest album or catalogue, so the book prompted a trawl of
Attractions/Imposters and many others, not that I ever need much encouragement
to listen to Elvis. Look Now mimics the book in collecting some discarded songs and placing them in a
current setting, rushing through themes and styles that have been prominent
throughout his years of making music. It can be argued that it’s most similar
to the Bacharach collaboration ‘Painted From Memory’ and has fewer ‘rock’
moments than some might hope for, that itch being sated by its predecessors
‘Momofuku’ and ‘Wise Up Ghost’. Melodically though it is vintage Costello.
Where other albums have tended towards a specific style it is more wayward and
erratic as if to echo every aspect of his output rather than confine it to
specific side-projects or concept albums. I can’t be alone in hearing a trace
of the oft-maligned ‘Goodbye Cruel World’, can I?
Costello confounds my theory that heritage
acts should stop releasing new material. 31 albums in, he doesn’t conform to
expectations or even his own predictions. If we’re on this trip with him then we undoubtedly buy into the enigma. With each step, we hope that we’re not
experiencing the epitaph, Bowie and Cohen having put that fear into our souls.
Few people will find this ‘organically’ or
use it as their entry point to Elvis Costello, perhaps he’s preaching to the
choir. If so he does an incredibly accomplished job of it, as if we’d have
expected any less.
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