London Observer, October 24, 2004: Difference between revisions
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Few question his sincerity or his reputation as a musical polyglot. But keeping one step ahead of his critics — not to say his fans, many of whom evaporated after his earlier, funnier albums, or his record companies, who have despaired at, rather than celebrated, his restless invention — has been an occupational hazard. | Few question his sincerity or his reputation as a musical polyglot. But keeping one step ahead of his critics — not to say his fans, many of whom evaporated after his earlier, funnier albums, or his record companies, who have despaired at, rather than celebrated, his restless invention — has been an occupational hazard. | ||
Never one to wait until he'd crossed his bridges before burning them, Costello has successfully alienated comers of all stripes in his determination to do exactly what he has wanted and sod the consequences. Where the impetus of punk faded, Costello's personal revolution shows no sign of flagging. But the thing that keeps him going — this refusal to let his achievements coalesce into a readily appraisable body of work — also tests the constancy of his admirers. | Never one to wait until he'd crossed his bridges before burning them, Costello has successfully alienated comers of all stripes in his determination to do exactly what he has wanted and sod the consequences. Where the impetus of punk faded, Costello's personal revolution shows no sign of flagging. But the thing that keeps him going — this refusal to let his achievements coalesce into a readily appraisable body of work — also tests the constancy of his admirers. "I want to be loved," he once sang, but not at just any price. He doesn't want to be loved for "Oliver's Army." | ||
In this book, pieced together with industry and care from a wide trawl of Costello's collaborators, schoolmates, foes, old lovers and anyone else who would open the door to its author, Graeme Thomson identifies a controlling motif in Costello's militant tendency, especially in the early years. He chooses as his prologue the now infamous | In this book, pieced together with industry and care from a wide trawl of Costello's collaborators, schoolmates, foes, old lovers and anyone else who would open the door to its author, Graeme Thomson identifies a controlling motif in Costello's militant tendency, especially in the early years. He chooses as his prologue the now infamous "Holiday Inn incident" in which, on the eve of what promised to be a triumphant US tour, Elvis engineered a drunken bar-room row with Stephen Stills, and — for the devil of it — dismissed Ray Charles as an "ignorant, blind nigger." The devil duly responded with a media frenzy, death threats and headless chickens in suits at CBS. It would be hard to plan a career sabotage so replete with options. | ||
But where, you wonder, did the anger and obstinacy come from? Why did Elvis make it so difficult for himself? You could point to the mood of the times but why did the mood suit him so well? Signs of his trademark impatience, cussedness and blind arrogance lurk in every chapter of this chronicle, album by album, tour by tour and, yes, blow by blow. | But where, you wonder, did the anger and obstinacy come from? Why did Elvis make it so difficult for himself? You could point to the mood of the times but why did the mood suit him so well? Signs of his trademark impatience, cussedness and blind arrogance lurk in every chapter of this chronicle, album by album, tour by tour and, yes, blow by blow. | ||
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© 2013 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. | © 2013 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. | ||
Revision as of 21:12, 5 December 2014
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