Review: Chicago Tribune
Costello harks back to when he was angry
EXCERPTS: "Yet even after returning to rock last year with his CD "When I Was Cruel," Costello remains defined by the music from his angry-young-man days of more than 20 years ago. Those songs made up most of his set. And on "Alison," he tacitly acknowledged that in their own way they now are as much a part of pop music's past as "Tracks of My Tears" and "Suspicious Minds."
"...But it was keyboard player Steve Nieve -- who, like Thomas, is a veteran of Costello's original backing band, the Attractions -- that kept the music on an emotional roller coaster with organ lines that seeped into the cracks of the songs, hovered over them, tumbled through them and chased them around the stage. Nieve may have been playing Costello's songs, but it was his show."
"...Costello still has a voice like a knife, and he used it to carve out his brittle melodies, but it's questionable how much he still feels the spiteful sentiments behind them. He was more animated mimicking soul man pleading during a
version of Sam and Dave's "I Can't Stand Up For Falling Down" and more persuasive singing his heart out on the poignant ballad "Deep Dark Truthful Mirror."
>From the Chicago Tribune
http://metromix.chicagotribune.com/reviews/critics/mmx-gud167pp9.24jul06,0,2366267.story?coll=mmx-critics_heds
Costello harks back to when he was angry
By Kevin McKeough
Special to the Tribune
July 7 2003, 1:30 AM CDT
Elvis Costello and his band had just finished
an epic, withering version of "... Dust"
Sunday afternoon when a woman in the center
of the near-capacity crowd at Petrillo band
shell softly called for "Alison."
The request couldn't have been heard from the
stage. But as if on cue, Costello obliged,
following one of his newest songs with one of
his first and most familiar, using it to
anchor a medley of hits by Smokey Robinson
and that other Elvis.
Costello has spent most of the last decade
consciously avoiding becoming an oldies act,
stretching himself artistically by
collaborating with the likes of classical
musicians the Brodsky Quartet, easy listening
icon Burt Bacharach, jazz guitarist Bill Frisell
and opera singer Anne Sophie von Otter.
Yet even after returning to rock last year
with his CD "When I Was Cruel," Costello
remains defined by the music from his
angry-young-man days of more than 20 years
ago. Those songs made up most of his set.
And on "Alison," he tacitly acknowledged that
in their own way they now are as much a part
of pop music's past as "Tracks of My Tears"
and "Suspicious Minds."
In a way, the mature Elvis Costello was covering
the songs of his younger self, so it made sense
that he loosened up the tightly knotted
arrangements of the original versions for
renditions that emphasized their garage rock
roots.
He abandoned the soul groove of "Everyday I
Write the Book" for churning guitar and
walloping drums, turned "Less Than Zero" into
a cheerleading session, and rolled breezily
over what were the hills and valleys of "Pump
It Up."
Former Cracker bassist Davey Faragher played
rubbery grooves, and Pete Thomas' relentless
drumming reached a peak on "Clubland."
But it was keyboard player Steve Nieve -- who,
like Thomas, is a veteran of Costello's original
backing band, the Attractions -- that kept the
music on an emotional roller coaster with organ
lines that seeped into the cracks of the songs,
hovered over them, tumbled through them and
chased them around the stage. Nieve may have
been playing Costello's songs, but it was his show.
Costello still has a voice like a knife, and he
used it to carve out his brittle melodies, but
it's questionable how much he still feels the
spiteful sentiments behind them. He was more
animated mimicking soul man pleading during a
version of Sam and Dave's "I Can't Stand Up For
Falling Down" and more persuasive singing his
heart out on the poignant ballad "Deep Dark
Truthful Mirror."
He saved his venom for a bluesy version of Mose
Allison's "Everybody's Crying Mercy," pointedly
singing, "Everybody's crying 'peace on earth'
just as soon as we win this war." Costello also
dedicated the last song of his show, "(What's So
Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding" to
much-maligned Bush-bashers the Dixie Chicks.
For all the vitriol in his back catalog, on this
afternoon it was as close to an act of defiance
as Costello or his music ever got.
>From the Chicago Tribune
http://metromix.chicagotribune.com/reviews/critics/mmx-gud167pp9.24jul06,0,2366267.story?coll=mmx-critics_heds
Costello harks back to when he was angry
By Kevin McKeough
Special to the Tribune
July 7 2003, 1:30 AM CDT
Elvis Costello and his band had just finished
an epic, withering version of "... Dust"
Sunday afternoon when a woman in the center
of the near-capacity crowd at Petrillo band
shell softly called for "Alison."
The request couldn't have been heard from the
stage. But as if on cue, Costello obliged,
following one of his newest songs with one of
his first and most familiar, using it to
anchor a medley of hits by Smokey Robinson
and that other Elvis.
Costello has spent most of the last decade
consciously avoiding becoming an oldies act,
stretching himself artistically by
collaborating with the likes of classical
musicians the Brodsky Quartet, easy listening
icon Burt Bacharach, jazz guitarist Bill Frisell
and opera singer Anne Sophie von Otter.
Yet even after returning to rock last year
with his CD "When I Was Cruel," Costello
remains defined by the music from his
angry-young-man days of more than 20 years
ago. Those songs made up most of his set.
And on "Alison," he tacitly acknowledged that
in their own way they now are as much a part
of pop music's past as "Tracks of My Tears"
and "Suspicious Minds."
In a way, the mature Elvis Costello was covering
the songs of his younger self, so it made sense
that he loosened up the tightly knotted
arrangements of the original versions for
renditions that emphasized their garage rock
roots.
He abandoned the soul groove of "Everyday I
Write the Book" for churning guitar and
walloping drums, turned "Less Than Zero" into
a cheerleading session, and rolled breezily
over what were the hills and valleys of "Pump
It Up."
Former Cracker bassist Davey Faragher played
rubbery grooves, and Pete Thomas' relentless
drumming reached a peak on "Clubland."
But it was keyboard player Steve Nieve -- who,
like Thomas, is a veteran of Costello's original
backing band, the Attractions -- that kept the
music on an emotional roller coaster with organ
lines that seeped into the cracks of the songs,
hovered over them, tumbled through them and
chased them around the stage. Nieve may have
been playing Costello's songs, but it was his show.
Costello still has a voice like a knife, and he
used it to carve out his brittle melodies, but
it's questionable how much he still feels the
spiteful sentiments behind them. He was more
animated mimicking soul man pleading during a
version of Sam and Dave's "I Can't Stand Up For
Falling Down" and more persuasive singing his
heart out on the poignant ballad "Deep Dark
Truthful Mirror."
He saved his venom for a bluesy version of Mose
Allison's "Everybody's Crying Mercy," pointedly
singing, "Everybody's crying 'peace on earth'
just as soon as we win this war." Costello also
dedicated the last song of his show, "(What's So
Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding" to
much-maligned Bush-bashers the Dixie Chicks.
For all the vitriol in his back catalog, on this
afternoon it was as close to an act of defiance
as Costello or his music ever got.
Copyright © 2003, The Chicago Tribune
.