a back-to-back set of high-energy rock songs
Elvis' Australian shows have been getting great reviews.
Extract - What became clear as this show progressed was how adept Costello and the incredibly tight and versatile musicians who accompany him have become at a sort of sleight-of-hand with the playlist. Costello is no '70s revivalist; it's the new material that matters most to him.
Throughout this 130-minute, 30-song set, he played 11 of the 13 tracks from his latest album, the southern-gothic song cycle The Delivery Man, many of which took on more lyrical and musical power in the live setting. But because he also rolled out most of his old hits - Good Year For The Roses, Oliver's Army, (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding, Pump It Up and Every Day I Write the Book (reworked into A Hard Day's Night-style, beat group outing) - as well as some surprises from the back catalogue, such as the new wave classic No Action, the show seemed at first blush like an even-handed survey of the voluminous Costello songbook.
Was it the best Costello performance Melbourne has seen? I'd give that honour to his Hamer Hall gigs in 2002. But as a testament to the life-affirming, emotionally challenging effects of four people playing amplified instruments, it was hard to go past.
Extract - As with the finest records, there's an ineffable alchemy at the core of the best shows which comes to define them. You can point to a high standard of playing or songwriting or sound and say that's why it works. And you'd be half-right: the cerebral half.
For example, quite aside from Elvis Costello's songwriting, the band he has now can play pretty damn well by any criteria.
Drummer Pete Thomas and bass player Davey Farragher do everything necessary superbly with not a superfluous, grandstanding note more, while Steve Nieve is an often astonishing whirl of improvised organ runs, electric piano stomps, theremin squalls and delicate spirals.
But what marks them out in concert now, three years into their partnership (when the American Farragher joined the long-established English trio) is feel. Over and around the brain of these songs is the blood, bone and sweat of a group so in tune with the music and each other that matters flow without thinking.
And that's true whether it is rugged as in the thumping simplicity of Uncomplicated and the slashing pinpoints of Needle Time, very danceable as in 13 Steps Lead Down and I Can't Stand Up For Falling Down or more sensitive as in the delicacy of Heart Shaped Bruise (coming out of a lovely Good Year For The Roses and featuring "Daveylou" Farragher standing in for Emmylou Harris on backing vocals) and Nothing Clings Like Ivy.
In the company of a new batch of songs steeped in, but not simply beholden to, the basics of rock'n'roll in post-war rhythm and blues and unfussed country, this approach makes Costello's less refined guitar playing - where angularity, tone and absence where necessary are key - not just appropriate but vital.
It also positively encourages moves such as the rolling thunder of the uninterrupted opening four songs (which climaxed in a throbbing-vein-in-the-temple version of Radio Radio); the perfectly judged Johnny Cash walking rhythm of Hidden Shame (which Costello wrote for Cash) alongside the southern soul touches in Either Side Of The Same Town and Peter Green's Love That Burns; and the pairing of Dave Bartholomew's 1954 New Orleans stomper Monkey with its "answer song", Costello's own Monkey To Man.
To get this energy and thought matched by feel meant that this 30-plus song, 2-hour show, including an hour-long encore which was in effect a more energised second set, never felt anything but pulsating. It was a great rock (and country, and rhythm and blues) band playing great rock (and country, and rhythm and blues) songs. Sounds simple doesn't it? Hardly.
Elvis Costello and the Imposters
Reviewer Shaun Carney
November 26, 2004
The Age
Palais Theatre, November 23
On Tuesday night, Elvis Costello, keyboard player Steve Nieve and drummer Pete Thomas strode purposefully on to the same performing space that had hosted their first Melbourne show back in 1978 and did just what they did all those years ago: they kicked straight into a back-to-back set of high-energy rock songs. Only a few things had changed. There was a little nod to modernity with a taped intro, Dave & Ansel Collins' Double Barrel, heralding the group's arrival, and the band has a different bassist. Instead of the linear, busy playing of Bruce Thomas, there is now the supple, swinging style of Davey Farragher. But otherwise, it was a quintessential Elvis Costello show, even down to the employment of the much-loved Accidents Will Happen, which was a brand-new composition back in 1978, as the opening song.
What became clear as this show progressed was how adept Costello and the incredibly tight and versatile musicians who accompany him have become at a sort of sleight-of-hand with the playlist. Costello is no '70s revivalist; it's the new material that matters most to him.
Throughout this 130-minute, 30-song set, he played 11 of the 13 tracks from his latest album, the southern-gothic song cycle The Delivery Man, many of which took on more lyrical and musical power in the live setting. But because he also rolled out most of his old hits - Good Year For The Roses, Oliver's Army, (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding, Pump It Up and Every Day I Write the Book (reworked into A Hard Day's Night-style, beat group outing) - as well as some surprises from the back catalogue, such as the new wave classic No Action, the show seemed at first blush like an even-handed survey of the voluminous Costello songbook.
Was it the best Costello performance Melbourne has seen? I'd give that honour to his Hamer Hall gigs in 2002. But as a testament to the life-affirming, emotionally challenging effects of four people playing amplified instruments, it was hard to go past. One more thing: Melbourne's Stephen Cummings, aided by guitarist Shane O'Mara, played a brilliant support set. Tickets were priced under $100. Who needs the Eagles?
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Elvis Costello and the Imposters, State Theatre
By Bernard Zuel
Sydney Morning Herald
November 26, 2004
November 24
In a recent interview Elton John conducted with Elvis Costello, the rejuvenated John (whose two-decade slump ended three years ago when he once again tapped into the spirit of his early, best, music) said this: "With certain older records you can't even describe what it is that makes them sound so unique, whether it's the studio or the group of musicians. Those elements just had a way of working in conjunction with one another."
As with the finest records, there's an ineffable alchemy at the core of the best shows which comes to define them. You can point to a high standard of playing or songwriting or sound and say that's why it works. And you'd be half-right: the cerebral half.
For example, quite aside from Elvis Costello's songwriting, the band he has now can play pretty damn well by any criteria.
Drummer Pete Thomas and bass player Davey Farragher do everything necessary superbly with not a superfluous, grandstanding note more, while Steve Nieve is an often astonishing whirl of improvised organ runs, electric piano stomps, theremin squalls and delicate spirals.
But what marks them out in concert now, three years into their partnership (when the American Farragher joined the long-established English trio) is feel. Over and around the brain of these songs is the blood, bone and sweat of a group so in tune with the music and each other that matters flow without thinking.
And that's true whether it is rugged as in the thumping simplicity of Uncomplicated and the slashing pinpoints of Needle Time, very danceable as in 13 Steps Lead Down and I Can't Stand Up For Falling Down or more sensitive as in the delicacy of Heart Shaped Bruise (coming out of a lovely Good Year For The Roses and featuring "Daveylou" Farragher standing in for Emmylou Harris on backing vocals) and Nothing Clings Like Ivy.
In the company of a new batch of songs steeped in, but not simply beholden to, the basics of rock'n'roll in post-war rhythm and blues and unfussed country, this approach makes Costello's less refined guitar playing - where angularity, tone and absence where necessary are key - not just appropriate but vital.
It also positively encourages moves such as the rolling thunder of the uninterrupted opening four songs (which climaxed in a throbbing-vein-in-the-temple version of Radio Radio); the perfectly judged Johnny Cash walking rhythm of Hidden Shame (which Costello wrote for Cash) alongside the southern soul touches in Either Side Of The Same Town and Peter Green's Love That Burns; and the pairing of Dave Bartholomew's 1954 New Orleans stomper Monkey with its "answer song", Costello's own Monkey To Man.
To get this energy and thought matched by feel meant that this 30-plus song, 2-hour show, including an hour-long encore which was in effect a more energised second set, never felt anything but pulsating. It was a great rock (and country, and rhythm and blues) band playing great rock (and country, and rhythm and blues) songs. Sounds simple doesn't it? Hardly.