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The impressive thing about Elvis Costello's show Tuesday night was not how good it was, but that it managed to be any good at all.
Costello turned in a stellar performance, exactly what was necessary to salvage one of the most poorly produced concerts Atlanta has seen in a while.
The show was produced and promoted by the biggest name in Atlanta rock circles, Alex Cooley. Cooley has long been fond of "festival seating," and he tried it again Tuesday night.
"Festival seating" means that no one gets a seat, and everyone stands on the floor and pushes one another. Why Cooley insists on treating his crowds like beef cattle is beyond me, but I wish he'd knock it off. He deserves the credit for bringing Costello to Atlanta, and the blame for almost ruining the show once he got him here.
But on to more pleasant topics. Elvis Costello thrilled a crowd of around 500 at the Fox Theater's Egyptian Ballroom with a supercharged hour of rock 'n' roll.
When Costello took the stage, the effect was there. He wore his trademark black, too-large horn rimmed glasses, an old spangled jacket, corduroys and a narrow tie. He assumed a stiff, uncomfortable pose, looking alone, aloof, but, most importantly, angry.
Costello burst into his rapid-fire Chuck Berry style "Mystery Dance," telling of an enigmatic "dance" that neither he nor his partner can manage: "Both of us were willin' but we didn't know how to do it." Costello spit out the lament with the anger that has become his trademark. The crowd loved it.
Before we go any further, we ought to clear up one thing: ELVIS COSTELLO DOES NOT PLAY PUNK ROCK. Punk rock was best described by Dave Marsh, who called it "three chords and a cloud of dust."
Costello's musical talents are a far cry from punk. His band is a fine, cohesive rock 'n' roll unit, and it backs him up well.
Costello's lyrics are angry condemnations of all sorts of things, but where the Sex Pistols and their ilk pretend to hate everything, Elvis just hates the things that deserve to be hated.
Or to put it another way, Elvis is an artist. The Sex Pistols are not.
The 18-song show alternated between songs from Costello's first album, My Aim is True, and the new release, This Year's Model. Highlights are next to impossible to pick out, since almost every song is exemplary of the style and force that great rock 'n' roll is supposed to have.
Costello had the crowd spellbound as he attacked close-minded radio programmers in "Radio, Radio." Talk like this could ensure that Costello never gets played: "You either shut up or get cut out / they don't want to hear about it / it's only inches on the reel to reel / and the radio is in the hands of such a lot of fools trying to anesthetize the way that you feel." He sings, "I wanna bite that hand that feeds me," and that's just what he's done.
Costello played two encores, the last closing with "I'm Not Angry" from My Aim is True. Elvis led the crowd in a shout-along, the audience screaming "angry!" like they really meant it — as much as middle class American youths can.
Aside from the seating (or lack of it), there were other problems. The sound system was excessively loud, and the vocals were mixed so low as to be occasionally unintelligible.
The audience didn't help much either, being largely Idiots Who Thought They Were Punks But Were Actually Just Obnoxious.
But none of that was Costello's fault. His performance was superb, proving that he's not some funny looking fluke, but a true rising giant. He sings and plays with an awesome power that simply cannot be ignored.
Not only is he a great performer, but he's an important one as well. The rock world needs somebody willing to tell a few people to go to hell, and never mind the consequences. Elvis is it.
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