Complicated Shadows (55 page)

The musicians on stage replicated the line-up on the album: Steve Nieve on keyboards and piano, a small orchestra, a band playing traditional rock instruments and three female backing singers.
Following ‘What The World Needs Now Is Love’ – not a sentiment which many people would have expected to hear from Elvis’s lips – came the first of three segments
featuring selections from the new record: ‘Toledo’, ‘Such Unlikely Lovers’, ‘This House Is Empty Now’, and ‘Tears At The Birthday Party’. Then he
sang ‘I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself’, a song he had been performing live since 1977 but – as he admitted – never with all the right chord changes until
now.

Then he left the stage to Bacharach, who played a medley of some of his greatest songs, including ‘The Look Of Love’ and ‘Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head’. Elvis
returned after half an hour to sing the rousing ‘Make It Easy On Yourself’, performing what
Uncut
magazine deemed to be ‘one of the most spectacular vocal performances of
his life’ at the London show.

‘Painted From Memory’ and ‘What’s Her Name Today’ followed, before Bacharach departed and Elvis and Steve played a short set of Costello songs: a stripped-down
‘Accidents Will Happen’ was followed by ‘Veronica’, where
the orchestra joined in towards the end and stayed for versions of ‘Just A
Memory’, ‘Almost Blue’ and ‘Alison’. After the opening shows in New York and Washington, Elvis added ‘Still Too Soon To Know’ to the solo set.

Then Burt re-emerged for the final flourish of ‘In The Darkest Place’, ‘The Long Division’, ‘My Thief’, ‘I Still Have That Other Girl’ and
‘The Sweetest Punch’. The encores were ‘My Little Red Book’, ‘Anyone Who Had A Heart’ and a closing ‘God Give Me Strength’, the latter more than
holding its own in such exalted company.

It was all very tasteful and respectful, although at $75 and £50 a ticket it was debatable as to what would have represented value for money. Elvis’s short set with Steve and strings
was a high point, providing a little grit in the shows, while the suitability – or otherwise – of Elvis’s voice remained a moot point. Many were thrilled by the combination of the
two unlikely bedfellows, the old-fashioned emphasis on the songs and the voice. Others seemed happy to talk through many of the performances.

In the end, Elvis cared little for what the critics said one way or another. The collaboration with Bacharach had been a piece of wish-fulfilment that was far more personal than merely writing a
few songs. Elvis had grown up watching his father singing big, emotive ballads – sometimes Burt’s – in a dinner jacket in front of a pop orchestra, and after working with
Bacharach he felt he had finally made his own mark on Ross’s territory. Hence the eager, non-ironic adoption of all the auxiliary hallmarks of the genre: the tuxedo, the glitz, the occasional
lounge singer affectation, the respect for the sanctity of the song. ‘It was very much an ambition of mine that one day I might end up doing exactly what [my dad] had
done,’
¹⁵
Elvis admitted.
Painted From Memory
was a fitting realisation of those childhood dreams.

* * *

Once again, there were ominous clouds on the horizon. Polygram was merging with Universal as part of a takeover deal by Seagram, and there had been a large amount
of blood-letting, including the departure of the man who had been instrumental in signing Elvis to the label, Danny Goldberg. The disruption meant not only that the post-release
promotion of
Painted From Memory
got caught somewhat in the middle, but also that Elvis’s plan to record a rock ’n’ roll album in 1999 was shelved. He wasn’t going
to let any more releases get caught in the corporate crossfire.

Painted From Memory
was listed in many of the year-end magazine and newspaper polls as one of the top albums of the previous twelve months. Indeed, it had attracted some of
Elvis’s best notices of the last ten years, benefiting from the kind of marketing campaign from his new record label that he had so long desired from Warners.

Furthermore, in February, Elvis and Burt bagged a Grammy in the slightly obscure catergory of Pop Collaboration With Vocals for the single of ‘I Still Have That Other Girl’, beating
the motley crew of R. Kelly, Stevie Wonder, Celine Dion and Babyface in the process. Typically, Elvis did his utmost to conceal his pleasure. ‘I am sceptical about these things,’ he
said. ‘The first time I was nominated, The Attractions were up against Chic for Best New Artist of the Year. We thought we might be in with a distant chance of second. What won? A Taste of
Honey with “Boogie Oogie Oogie”! So I can’t take it too seriously.’
¹⁶

Over all, there could be very few music fans in the western world who weren’t aware of the album’s existence, and yet it proved a huge commercial disappointment, peaking at No. 32 in
the UK – his worst-ever chart position for an album of new material – and No. 42 in the States.

Predictably, Elvis pointed the finger at Polygram, but his continuing insistence on blaming record company problems for his lack of commercial success was becoming just a little suspicious. The
musical landscape had changed beyond all recognition, and Elvis had for some time been a cult act, albeit one who had flirted with huge, global superstardom and then backed off. He was
well-respected and well-rewarded, both renumeratively and in terms of the respect of his peers, yet he also appeared to believe
he was living in a halcyon age of songwriting
where Burt Bacharach records still got to No. 1 and sold a million copies. It was faintly absurd.

Instead of locking horns with the spirit-sapping forces of the musical industry, Elvis spent most of the year on the road with Steve. Before setting out, however, there were sombre duties to
address. Elvis attended Dusty Springfield’s funeral on 12 March at St Mary the Virgin Church in Henley on Thames, saying a few words during the service in appreciation for the unique talents
of the great soul singer whom he had loved since his teens, and who had recorded a version of Elvis’s bespoke composition ‘Just A Memory’ back in the ’80s. Less than a month
later, on 10 April, Elvis was at the Royal Albert Hall for a memorial concert for Linda McCartney, who had – like Dusty – recently died of breast cancer. He and Steve were accompanied
by the Duke String Quartet on Wings’ ‘Warm And Beautiful’, having already played an emotional ‘That Day Is Done’ as a simple duet. Again, Elvis spoke movingly, this
time recalling how Linda made him feel at ease and calmed his nerves when he had started working with Paul back in 1987. The three-song set ended with ‘(What’s So Funny ’Bout)
Peace, Love & Understanding’, backed by The Pretenders, and Elvis later joined the ensemble finale to sing backing and play guitar on ‘Let It Be’, Ricky Nelson’s
‘Lonesome Town’ and ‘All My Loving’.

The ‘Lonely World’ tour kicked off in Amsterdam two days later, coming on the back of a handful of brief collaborations with the pianist following their Italian tour the previous
spring.

Which version of the Costello-Nieve roadshow were audiences going to get? A performance together at the Fuji Rock Festival in Tokyo on 1 August 1998 had been disappointing, a mere forty-five
minutes in length and almost an apology for the non-appearance of The Attractions. For the first time as a duo they played old standards such as ‘Less Than Zero’, ‘Chelsea’,
and ‘Everyday I Write The Book’, songs generally unsuited to the pared-down format. They miscued the ending of ‘Chelsea’, Elvis fluffed the words to ‘(What’s So
Funny
’Bout) Peace, Love & Understanding’, and generally the performance was subdued and seemed to lack heart, as if he wasn’t really feeling these
songs anymore.

In contrast, a brief jaunt around New Zealand, Japan and Australia in February had seen some genuine treats thrown into the sets, some often played just once: ‘Baby Plays Around’,
‘Love Field’, ‘Pads, Paws And Claws’, ‘Inch By Inch’, ‘I Hope You’re Happy Now’, ‘Hand In Hand’ and ‘Town Cryer’ among
them.

In the end, it was the latter incarnation which came out of the blocks for the ‘Lonely World’ tour on the twelfth of April. Elvis and Steve had worked out about seventy songs in all,
ensuring that the setlists were open to substantial change every night, but the tour was loosely designed to promote
Painted From Memory
. ‘Toledo’ was released as a single in
April, but predictably did little business, and following the upheavals at the record company, Elvis felt the tour was ‘the only way to spread the word about these songs’.
¹⁷

The duo had become an awesome live act, with a huge repertoire not only of songs, but also of moods, textures and emotions. In the absence of Bacharach and his orchestra, the songs were stripped
down from their original recorded states and the lush presentations of the concerts the previous October. In many ways this freed them. ‘Steve Nieve’s stream of inventions and
embellishments allowed Costello to take the songs to places they’d never seen before,’ said Adam Sweeting in the
Guardian
, reviewing the Albert Hall show on 15 April.

The shows were a Costello fanatic’s dream. In Copenhagen on 30 April there were a couple of real rarities: ‘After The Fall’ and ‘Suit Of Lights’, while
‘Little Palaces’, ‘Any King’s Shilling’, ‘Waiting For The End Of The World’, ‘Little Triggers’, ‘Blue Chair’ and ‘Rocking
Horse Road’ also popped up throughout the tour. Each show ended with Elvis singing ‘Couldn’t Call It Unexpected No. 4’ without a microphone, trawling the front of the stage
as he serenaded the crowd, like a modern-day John McCormack. Audience reactions were genuinely passionate.

When the tour hit North America halfway through May, the duo incorporated the Charles Aznavour ballad ‘She’ into the set. Elvis had recorded the song as the
theme song for the film
Notting Hill
, a vehicle for Julia Roberts’ smile that went on general release at the end of May. His unironic and emotional reading – with vibrato in
full effect – was recorded at Abbey Road with a ninety-six-piece orchestra as he gazed at Ms Roberts on the studio cinema screen. ‘She’ gave Elvis his first Top 20 UK single since
1983 – reaching No. 19 in the summer and yielding an unlikely
Top Of The Pops
appearance, following which the single promptly plummeted.

The US tour ended with a show at the Woodstock Festival on 25 July, a misguided attempt to tap into the nostalgia surrounding the thirtieth anniversary of the original. It was an incongruous
place to find Steve and Elvis, but they nonetheless won the Sunday afternoon crowd over with a fourteen-song set which covered most points of his career. No longer merely contrary for the sake of
it, Elvis even finished with ‘(What’s So Funny ’Bout) Peace, Love & Understanding’.

* * *

There was a break in live work in August and September, with further dates planned with Steve throughout the final three months of 1999. Culminating with two concerts in Japan
on 15 and 18 December, the ‘Lonely World’ tour would end up being Elvis’s most intensive spell on the road since the late ’70s, featuring some of his most artistically
satisfying shows. During the lull, Universal released a comprehensive double CD
Best Of
collection, which provided Elvis with an unexpected hit record, entering the charts at No. 4, his
first Top 10 UK album since
Brutal Youth
five years earlier. While watching some of his old recordings climb the charts, Elvis spent much of his seven weeks off writing new songs.

It was the first time he had written ‘for himself’ for four years, and also the first time since 1994 that he had used the guitar as his principal compositional instrument.
‘45’
was written on his forty-fifth birthday, an autobiography in three minutes, dissecting late twentieth-century history and his own upbringing in clever
nine-year chunks, with just a handful of chords and a classic 1978 melody. ‘Alibi’ was a long, forensic examination of a lifetime’s worth of lame excuses which could have graced
Blood & Chocolate
without sounding out of place. ‘I love you just as much as I hate your guts’ was the central refrain, and he would add several more over the next two
years as the song evolved.

‘Heart-Shaped Bruise’ and ‘I Dreamed Of My Old Lover Last Night’ were more traditional tracks, both written from a woman’s perspective for a story-in-song cycle
that Elvis was developing, provisionally called
The Delivery Man
. The tunes were simple, written on acoustic guitar with instantly arresting country and folk melodies, with shades of
King Of America
.

These songs were firmly within the classic Costello template, but Elvis was also experimenting with computers, samples and beat-boxes for his next record, which he planned to build on a heavy
rhythmic base, using technology to explore different rhythmic settings for the songs. He had used computer technology since
Mighty Like A Rose
, but this was very far removed from writing
carefully layered orchestral lines. ‘I want the music to be driven more by rhythm,’ he explained. ‘I want to use the same computer technology, but balance the harmony with rhythm.
It might mean abandoning the accepted song structure a little bit, but I do think it’s possible.’
¹⁸

Partly, his inspiration came from an interest in the deep bottom-end of modern hip-hop and R&B records, whose production he found ‘absolutely mind-bending’. And partly it stemmed
from a desire to wrest control of the rhythmic rudder of a song, ensuring that it wasn’t reliant on the input of other musicians – a legacy of the dog-days of his relationship with
Bruce Thomas, perhaps.

The first results of these experimental approaches were startling. ‘When I Was Cruel’ was downright menacing, with airy, discordant guitar shapes ringing above a slow, rhythmic
pulse. The other new songs were sparse, disquieting tracks
written from a teacher’s and a lawyer’s viewpoint respectively, and had more specific starting points:
‘A Teacher’s Tale (Oh Well)’ and ‘Soul For Hire’ had initially prompted Elvis’s summer writing spree, composed to order for the film called
Prison
Song
.
⁴²