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Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink

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Author:Elvis Costello

‘…the line between present and past never seemed clear to me as a child.’

Background: I know Elvis Costello’s early work well: ‘Imperial Bedroom’ is one of my favourite albums. I gave up after ‘Blood and Chocolate’. I have a lot of interest in him and respect for him as a writer but I wouldn’t call myself a huge fan, not am I particularly knowledgeable about his work. [Dons flame-proof hat.]

The short version:

This is an autobiography of a difficult and complex man who was heavily influenced by his father’s musical background (and perhaps his father’s habitual adultery). His largely traumatic relationships with women are documented (after all, it’s all there in the lyrics). The book demonstrates his passion for music and willingness to experiment and learn from others who he would admit are more talented in certain respects. The book meanders a bit at the end and becomes less engaging, but the material on his parents and grandparents is fascinating and he comprehensively documents his life in London and Liverpool via his Irish heritage and how this influenced his life and songs. He also demonstrates the power and significance of music within families; how musical talent, knowledge and traditions are passed on. It’s too long and the latter parts need editing right down, but worth a read for his early family life and life on the road in the years prior to his fame, and for getting inside his head a little to discover something of his writing process. He’s self-aware and self-critical, and in some respects it’s a more open and expansive book than one might expect, with a great deal of warmth.

The details:

Strict chronology is not followed. The book moves backwards and forwards through musical experiences and career events, and these are weaved together with childhood memories. So it’s simultaneously linear and non-linear; there’s an over-arching forwards trajectory but it often dips back into memory. It begins with a story about his father playing at the Hammersmith Palais with Joe Loss. Costello’s time spent there watching this is obviously stamped on him, as is his childhood in London and Liverpool where he moved to with his mother. There is a lot of detail on his complex relationship with his often-absent father and his father’s music and love of Irish poets. In lots of ways it is a memoir of and tribute to his father. A touching section is included on the impact of his father giving him ‘Please Please Me’ to listen to:
‘I didn’t know any of these words to describe the music back then, but to say that it was thrilling and confusing doesn’t do it justice. I went into the living room and sat quietly on the couch’.
The detail on the writing process is illuminating: on ‘Beyond Belief’ he notes that he left out lines that were ‘inelegant’, which indicates something about how he likes to leave some things unsaid. He makes some perceptive points about the ‘carnal power struggle’ described by the lyrics. In this way, we get little snapshots of how lyrics are formed and rejected. Costello is fascinating on the process of writing ‘Imperial Bedroom’ and what he was listening to at the time: Billie Holiday, Miles David, Erik Satie, Debussy, Miles Davis; the album is connected to so many musical threads. The book is very revealing on his writing process and worth buying for that alone.

There is a thorough account of the experiences and reflections that lead to ‘Imperial Bedroom’, some personal, some less so, and how incidents and observations were entwined. Costello perceived it to be a more upbeat record than ‘Trust’ but it doesn’t sound or read as such (to me, at least). The writing and recording is described as a more fluid, unplanned, less calculated and more improvised form: ‘I knew there was more than one way to tell a story or to make one’s confession. ‘Imperial Bedroom’ seemed determined to explore them all’.

There’s a nice story (that reflects badly on him) regarding the encounter that inspired ‘Accidents Will Happen’ although he states this is ‘pop music, not confession’. Although later in the book he admits that many of the lyrics written for other people are about his relationship breakdowns (particularly with Cait O’Riorden).

There is extensive detail on his early encounters with other musicians which were initially tentative but with whom he grew to form strong bonds (Springsteen, McCartney, Ringo, George Martin, Dylan, Bowie, Neil Diamond). He is (rightly) very generous to other performers although he admits he wasn’t always so (for example Neil Diamond). He does note his often fractious relationship with The Attractions, pointed to in Bruce Thomas’ book I think (see Dave’s review: https://theafterword.co.uk/rough-notes/)

He has an obsessive, exhaustive and eclectic music interest, influenced by his father, and he takes music very, very seriously: Dylan, CSNY, T Rex, Little Feat, The Band, The Grateful Dead, Hank Williams and later, Johnny Cash and Gram Parsons (he makes an astute point about the similar vulnerability in the voices of Cash and Parsons). He points to the influence of Joni Mitchell, Neil Young and Van in the early years, and this helps to explain his later musical diversions and explorations: ‘There was too much to learn and too much to love’.

Costello is well aware of the charges against him. At one point, he imagines interviewing himself in the style of his later US chat show:
‘“Don’t you agree, you’re a sellout, a hypocrite, a dilettante, a bigot, a socialist, an elitist, a misogynist, a has-been, and a talentless egotist?” I would have liked to have seen how I’d have wriggled out of that kind of interrogation.’

So I think he is more than aware of his flaws. The chapter about the ‘N’ word is the shortest, and he has said it was the hardest to write. His regret and distress over the incident seem genuine but it’s not hugely illuminating about why it happened at all. Costello is pretty forthcoming about charges of misogyny, although he argues that the male protagonist (himself?) was always the subject being ridiculed. Having said that, he is honest about his behaviour towards women whilst he was married, on the road dealing with his new fame. When reflecting about writing about himself at this time, he admits that ‘I don’t much care for the subject’.

His relationship breakdowns and encounters with groupies and his own responsibility are documented, although there is little prurient detail and surprisingly little about Cait O’Riorden, given their 18-year relationship (she doesn’t even appear in the ‘Acknowledgments’). His relationship with her appears to have been fractious at best and he alludes to what troubled people they both were at the time. He describes his many casual encounters whilst touring and how deadening they can be. Inevitably they took a toll on his marriage: ‘…trust is the hardest of the graces to repair’. This was all a little oblique; I can understand why, as most people involved are still alive, but it is slightly frustrating to refer to these relationships without giving much detail. But I guess it’s all in the lyrics.

There is a moving account of working in New Orleans post-Katrina and the impact on the community and his experience of recording in the context of this. He does touch on his well-known political beliefs throughout the book but not at any great length. His anger about the suffering of people post- Katrina comes off the page, although he finds joy in the recording sessions.

After a difficult and complex emotional life, it’s hard to begrudge him some comfort, stability and happiness, but the last section is rather glib: ‘here’s my beautiful wife and my showbiz pals’. This got a bit trying. Everything is here: every collaboration, all the US TV shows, and I’m not sure what it adds. To me it was much less interesting, although I wasn’t aware of just how famous he is in America. For me his early life is much more interesting than the ‘fame’ years (I think someone on the blog said this about all musician’s biographies). (The Morrissey biography has the same flaw- it starts well and descends into a morass of back-biting about the court case and an almost list-like account of the US tours.)
Towards the end, he touches on his own children’s love of music: ‘There is no way to prove that that this disposition for music must run in the blood, except for all the evidence’. Music is the thread tying him to his grandfather, father, and children.

The book is written in short, concise paragraphs; it’s unshowily written, and (unsurprisingly) unflowery: it ‘sounds’ like him, if that makes sense, although the one-sentence paragraphs are a little mannered after a while. However as noted he tends to be somewhat circuitous at times, especially (understandably?) in reports of his romantic life.

The book is written in a style of either faux self-deprecation or humbleness and honesty. I would go for the latter, I think. He is all too aware of the limitations of his voice, the lyrics, his spikiness when younger and his behaviour with women. He points to ‘disappointment’ with some of his work (such as the recorded version of ‘Shipbuilding’ and ‘All This Useless Beauty’). He frequently characterises his early lyrics as ‘quips’ and writes that the pre-‘Almost Blue’ catalogue is comprised of ‘Tricky, bitter little songs that only appealed to a certain kind of creep’.

As you might expect, he has a gift for a concise phrase and /or a vignette that encapsulates so much. A semi-fictionalised story in Leeds that formed the basis for ‘…And in Every Home’ discussed two girls entering a café in Chapeltown: ‘Their skin is coarse and pancaked when striped of shadows by the buzzing neon’.

I don’t know how to end this. One for the fans, obviously; but also anyone who loves songwriting and wants a little insight into one artists’ inspiration.

Length of Read:Long

Might appeal to people who enjoyed…

Autobiographies by Patti Smith, Keith Richards, Dylan.

‘Rough Notes’ (Bruce Thomas: see ‘Reads’ for review- link above).

One thing you’ve learned

Misc. aka ‘all the bits I couldn’t fit in’:
1. Steve Nieve‘s piano part in ‘Oliver’s Army’ was inspired by ‘Dancing Queen’- I didn’t know that but now it seems obvious.
2. He’s entertaining on the bizarre yet mundane experience of TOTP: the tedium of miming, getting pissed and pissing about, BBC dunderheads, banal DJs and the eclectic bunch of performers that he would bump into.
3. On his first trip to America he appears on a San Fransisco radio station and his playlist (p. 305) probably tells you what you need to know about his comprehensive music knowledge.
4. There’s a nice quote in relation to ‘Radio Radio’: ‘The idea that the radio broadcasting from within you was ultimately of more value than the radio in the dashboard or the wireless on the shelf or a transmitter on a pirate ship, beaming from beyond the three-mile limit, is something that I would argue to this day’.

3

Comments

  5. I’m not a big fan of Costello, but I do like reading music-related biographies. He has clearly led an interesting life. Your in depth review has piqued my interest, so it’s on the list!

    (…and if I ever do get to the end of A Brief History of Seven Killings, I’ll review it, but this isn’t looking likely any time soon.)

  9. Thanks, you’re all very kind. *sniffs* It needed a final proof-reading and a bit of re-organising but I was too tired, soz.

    I don’t think I said, but I did enjoy it; even if you’re not a fan it’s worth reading for insights into songwriting, band dynamics,the sometimes tricky process of collaboration, the impact of fame, life on the road, and how the biz we call show has changed over 60-70 years or so. There are a few nice little stories of meetings with Springsteen and Dylan in which the latter come off well, which might have read like backslapping but are quite illuminating about musicians working together and just hanging out.

  11. Top review. I’ll give it a look when I come across a copy. I’ve liked him less as he’s gone on, but he’s always interesting, and, as you say, takes it very seriously which is a good thing.

  15. Thanks. Don’t need to read it now, I learned all I need to know from the review.

    (Have found him extremely hard going in recent teats music and personality wise)

    • Vibrato: 0/10 (0r 10/10 if you prefer, seeing that there is zero vibrato. Given that it’s a book. Although at one stage bloody ‘She’ gets a mention which unfortunately earwormed me.

      Hat: a boater, a beret, four fedoras, a cowboy hat (toddler pic). So, as expected….9?

      Not sure how to score this. Vibrato is bad, yeah guys? So does no vibrato mean 10/10? The hat thing I’m not sure. I like a nice hat and he suits them so hat=good, so high score there. Or is it? Is seven hat pictures in a book of 670 pages good or bad? Too few, too many? How many hats are enough?

  18. OK, I’m 90min into the audiobook and I’ve found the first glaring factual error. In the chapter where Elvis talks about his dad getting the Beatles promo singles to learn, he mentions “John Leyton’s record The Folk Singer“.

    He’s confusing John Leyton with Tommy Roe, who had a number 4 UK hit with The Folk Singer” in 1963.

    • It is bloody mahoosive. I couldn’t take it outside the house to read on the bus; too bulky. Interesting that a few people have the audio and I think like lots of biogs, it would work well as an audiobook.

      Don’t fall asleep listening though- you’ll wake up and it will be recounting his time as a US chat show host and you’ll be all ‘WT actual F?!’

      • It works especially well as an audiobook for me because:

        1) Elvis reads it himself

        2) My daily drive to work (30 mins each way) is perfect and means I can rattle though a book such as this in 2 weeks.

      • I listen on my daily lunchtime walk at work so I’m hoping I don’t fall asleep listening ! Excellent review though, almost as long as the book. I’m nearly at the 3 hour mark now and I would agree that (so far) you don’t need to be a big EC fan to find it fascinating apart from the song writing detail….and so far, no vibrato and he hasn’t put his hat on yet, I reckon that will happen around the 12 hour mark!

  20. Superb review Ruby, many congratulations.

    I finished reading the book a few days ago, and your review captures and expresses beautifully everything I felt about it / him. I would add perhaps two other observations:

    – I’ve long been exasperated by Costello’s peripatetic speaking voice (as is well-known, he’s variously adopted Scouse, Midlantic, and full-on North American, as each has become career-advantageous), so it was interesting to see that he also shifts between a number of writing voices. This didn’t seem to be just a matter of ‘different writing styles for different events / themes’, but actually different personae altogether. I found this unsettling, frequently thinking “Who are you now? Will the real Elvis Costello please stand up?* “. I’m all for his use of ‘unreliable narrator’ in song-writing, but in an autobiography the reader surely needs to be confident that s/he’s reading the author’s own true voice.

    – I was surprised at how few references there were to his mother, given, as you say, the emphasis he otherwise puts on ‘family’. The references to his mother are fleeting and almost tokenistic. As you say, he does go strong on his hero-worship of his father, and this was clearly a massively influential relationship and indeed a very positive and happy one for him, but his mother seems to be a very faint sketch in the book. He does allude to this, in fact, but even this acknowledgement seems to have a slightly neutral, sterile “Oh well, never mind” quality about it. I’ll leave it to you and your fellow trick cyclists / cyclogists on here to conjecture a possible link to his generally unhappy relationship with women. Much credit to him, though, for properly expressing his regret about how squandered the love of his first wife.

    I agree that overall it’s a worthwhile read, and also that the ‘My Showbiz Friends’ bit towards the end is pretty soul-sapping.

    *He may have been unable to stand up, however, because of his previously well-documented problems with falling down.

  21. Thanks Jeff, much appreciated. Agreed on all counts.

    I did want to discuss the relative absence of his mother but I had banged on enough. It’s an important observation, though. I also think I chickened out a bit; given the absence of discussion of Cait O’Riorden and his much-discussed ‘difficulties with girls’ I didn’t really want to superimpose a narrative of ‘problems with women’, which I suspect is unjustified. (I don’t think he’s had any different difficulties than any young man who experiences fame at an early age; he’s just been honest enough to write about it.)

    As a counter-point he does discuss his mother’s time working in record/music shops and her impressive knowledge of music. But yes, she is glossed over slightly.

    The different voices observation is very interesting. I think it’s so he can be honest but not, y’know, too honest- the different voices give a slight ironic distance.

    • Ah that’s a very fair and civilised point you make in your para 1 reply there, Ruby. I accept that perspective in full.

      And I think your final para observation is spot-on.

  22. Enjoyed the review more than I’m enjoying the audiobook if I’m quite honest. I’m a big fan of EC but the listen is starting to bore me now, I have to reach the end though. It does amuse and annoy in equal measure how his accent changes depending on who or where he is talking about, it can be straightforward middle England, his mid-Atlantic drawl or tough-guy cod scouse.

    Two things I’ve learned is how to pronounce Bebe (as in Buell) and Cait, neither of which were how I thought they were said.

    At least the dogs are getting some good long walks while I plough through it.

  23. Great review Ruby. Looking forward to reading it when I finish what I have on the go at the minute. Out of interest in the showbiz chapters does he make any mention of Sting? Curious because in his earlier snarling days he was dismissive of Sting and his faux Jamaican accent. In later years he toured with him and they now seem to be mates. A fickle lot these Rock Stars.

    • Sting…nothing really springs to mind, really; he might have interviewed him on his show (?) Something’s nagging in the back of my mind but it wasn’t controversial enough for me to note, sorry.

    • Any mention of his breakfast trysts with Van Morrison – both daringly hatless, presumably because they believed, quite mistakenly, that their clandestine interactions would be unobserved – in a Notting Hill Gate greasy spoon in 1986-1987?

      If not, don’t trust anything that book says.

  24. Yes! Fair bit on Van and the cafe assignations. According to EC they lived near to each other and Van began to give him taciturn greetings on the street, which then developed into the cafe bacon sarnie meets.

    From memory Van would greet him with something like ‘How’s about yer?’* And that would be about it for conversation.

    * I may have made that bit up; substitute something equally gruff.

    • Yea! That’s about the size of it, yes. Van was usually already ensconced (read “squeezed”) into his red leatherette booth, tucking into his beans-driven feast, when the door went trrring – eerily pre-echoing the final scene of The Sopranos – and Elvis walked in. They just used to nod “Mornin'” at each other. Elvis then sat alone at another table and unfolded his Independent. Van was a Daily Mirror reader. Of course he was.

      • @SteveT Yeah I couldn’t remember the greasy spoon snack of choice so I made that up. ‘Beans’ does ring a bell through so I think @archie-valparaiso is correct on Van’s food.

        @bartadog Yes, EC does say that they weren’t actually married; I think I/we all just presumed that they were.

    • It’s a long time since I lived in Belfast but I imagine the exchanges are still similar. Van’s opener would be either HowsAboutYe? or WhatAboutYeNar? (nar = NornIron for now) to which a typical Belfast response would be Dead On, or my particular favourite Not Thee Bad (Thee being not the biblical thee but as in See spoken with a lisp. A corruption of three. Geddit?)

  25. Cait – there was an interview with Cait O’Riordan (I think the Word site linked to it) where she claimed they weren’t actually married.
    She also pointed out the cover of the ‘When I was Cruel’ album was a subtle reference to Ms Buell featuring as it does a pair of bees.

  26. Great review, Ruby. I might now put the book on my list for Santa.

    I’m very firmly in the ‘I used to like him until he dispappeared up his own arse’ camp, but it sounds like the book might be more interesting than most of his recent musical output.

  29. Nice bit in new Mojo interview that aims to nail his critics to the wall

    “What I do professionally and what I do vocationally are slightly different because clearly I’ve followed my own sense about music and indulged my artistic side when it’s not even been in my best interest I’m an expert at losing money. I’m not afraid of that. It’s been worth it to get where I’ve been.

    For everyone who’s said “That’s all rubbish. There’s nothing good after….” do you think I don’t know that you think that? You don’t think I know your imagination doesn’t go past 1980 or 1986 or whatever the year is? Is it because YOU can’t think any wider than that? Could it be you’re actually wrong? And that I’ve been living my life in the way I want to, and I’m the one who’s free?”

  30. Wow.

    To put matters of taste (i.e. the indifference of listeners) down to a failure of imagination requires a giant heap of hubris.

    Maybe Elvis could call his next album ‘Listen without prejudice’.

    • Nah the “never done anything good since” people are pulling dickish moves that suggest it’s something wrong with the artist and his decisions rather than their inability to accept anything that strays from the norm. If ‘disappearing up his on arse’ means daring to try and work with string quartet then that’s just crazy talk. If its having a combative over confident and bullish public persona when it comes to his work then he’s had that from Day 1. Recently I read an interview around 1978 where he was asked “Do you mind being compared to Dylan, Lennon etc?” and he says “I’ve forgotten who those people even are” – he knows what makes good copy.

      In Elvis’ case it’s the Almost Blue / signing with a major label /loss of Attractions / Mighty Like A Rose refuseniks. If it’s country music, sad old punk philosophy, fearing change or fearing beards that guide their opinion . Some hate North as it’s Elvis in Love rather than the pissed off poor divorcee – Frank Skinner mentioned to him once that he’d chatted with fans that wished he’d split with Diana Krall so he’s write an angry bitter album, his reply “these people are my fans?” . Some wanted him preserved in aspic as the avenging nerd which is their problem, not his.

      To dismiss his recent output as junk without actually listening to albums like Momofuku which if anything hark back to the early sound of This Years Model or Blood & Chocolate in feel. National Ransom has social commentary and treaties on aging and the emergence of his current troubadour touring style. Wise Up Ghost is an experiment that none of his contemporises would attempt and in the main exceeds in changing what we expect of him again.

      Elvis similarly stated in the article that he’s done with releasing albums, touring them ad nauseum.

      • “The ‘never done anything good since’ people are pulling dickish moves that suggest it’s something wrong with the artist and his decisions rather than their inability to accept anything that strays from the norm.”

        With respect, DFB, that’s sheer bunkum.

        Most folk don’t have agendas about music; they’ll either like something, dislike it or be utterly indifferent to it. A phrase like ‘inability to stray from the norm’ sounds like something coined in the days when the NME was run by the indie Taliban.

      • Spot on DFB. Have been with Elvis since the beginning and have never understood the criticism of his desire to explore different avenues. It makes no sense whatsoever. I don’t yearn for the This years model/Armed Forces days – I have those in my collection. I also have Mighty Like a Rose which for me is contender for his best album alongside King of America which itself was a good distance away from those early days of snarl.
        Later on he wrote Still for North, a fine love song from an album with his exquisite arrangements.
        When working with the Brodsky Quartet he was irritated with his own inability to read music so went away and taught himself – quickly. He has subsequently written a classical score that experts in the field feel had merit. I for one welcome his eclecticism and thank the lord he is strong enough to dismiss the hysterical intonations from those wishing him to stick in a time-warped 1977.

  31. Nice review Ruby.

    As a result I had a browse of it and the thing that struck me was it is a massive tome, but could be a lot smaller had they used a smaller typeface. It struck me as rather large and unnecessary. (Though his publishers are not the only ones guilty of this – it’s something my wife and I frequently moan about as we lug our latest reading choice around to read on the daily commute.)

    Does he say anything about appearing at various Concerts For A Landmine Free World? That was the last time I saw him live and he did seem to be slightly reticent in the company of Emmylou Harris, Steve Earle, Nanci Griffiths and John Prine. He said he was a fan and he could hardly believe the company he was in and I think that was reflected in his performances.

    • Thanks. Yes, I think the critical consensus is that it’s too long anyway, and the typeface probably makes it seem longer. (I quite liked the typeface, as I’m becoming even more short-sighted with age.)

      Yes, he does discuss those concerts and says exactly that- how overwhelming it was to be in such company. I think he was pretty awe-struck and felt a bit out-of-place.

  36. @rubyblue Really excellent. Nick Hornby was a top interrogator, steering clear of all the obvious stuff that would have set EC off on promo autopilot or reading from the book.

    He played Beyond Belief, Indoor Fireworks and a cover tune I can’t recall the title of at the end.

  38. Nearly finished the book now and the main thing I’m taking away from it is Elvis’s love for his father. A whole chapter is devoted to his dad’s decline into ill health and subsequent death. It’s heartfelt and terribly, terribly sad. Beautifully written too.

    The snippets on Dylan were fascinating and offer a real insight into what’s like to work with and be around the eccentric Bob.

    Some lovely anecdotes about Van, too.

    The only reservations so far have been the chapters on Burt Bacharach and Allen Toussaint. Both chapters dragged and appeared a little self-conscious and “showbizzy”. Apart from that, the book retains a sense of proportion throughout and never descends into self-importance or parody as many rock autobiographies can do.

      • Thanks Ruby, but it’s just a grain of sand compared to the mighty Sahara that is your review.

        One tiny thing that niggled me is Elvis’s continual insistence on pronouncing New Orleans as “N’awlins”. I’m not sure if it’s correct or not, but it gives the impression that he considers himself one of the “locals” now and sounded a bit wanky coming from a London/Liverpool lad (I have the audiobook).

  39. Book of the Week: Starting tomorrow (Monday), it’s Radio 4’s “Book of the Week”. If the full 18 hour audiobook is too much for you, this severely abridged 75 min version might hit the spot.

  40. Eagerly anticipated but ultimately a bit of a let down. The first half is fabulous, his early life and career, albeit interspersed with non-chronological related snippets, the second an increasingly flipoverthepages of encounters with the great, the good and the dull, with great swathes of lyrics and odd short story style reveries. Good for reminisces, dull for detail. Strangely I found a contrasted similarity with the Viv Albertine memoir, except I preferred her side 2 away from the limelight, preferring Elvis’ part 1 (ish) before the limelight, if you follow me. I dare say he is a much more decent fellow as he has aged, but I sense he might also be a little dull in real life, as compared the wild card of his youth. Better a spoilt brat than an elder statesman?

  41. Going through the audio book at the moment and I was delighted to find an immediate reference to the wrestler Mick McManus and how Elvis was no relation. He talks of Mick’s weakness was being tickled – but I seem to recall that Mick hated having his ears rubbed. It used to rattle him.

    So I’m on page 1 and nitpicking over detail already. Other than that, I have enjoyed it so far although there is much further to go. No mention of R Whites Lemonade yet.

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