1978 RECORDING Live At The El Mocambo
KICKS OFF THE COSTELLO SHOW SERIES
OF LIVE ALBUMS FROM ELVIS COSTELLO

The first edition in the The Costello Show live performance series of complete concerts featuring Elvis Costello finds one of the most eclectic and acclaimed artists at the fiery start of his career. Live At The El Mocambo (Hip-O/UM^e), to be released September 29, 2009, marks Volume 1 of his Elvis Costello –The Costello Show series of albums. During the next year or so, the The Costello Show series will continue with the album releases of significant classic Costello concerts including a performance at Hollywood High in California and other shows to be announced.

Recorded March 6, 1978, at the sold-out El Mocambo in Toronto, Canada, and broadcast live by CHUM-FM, this Elvis Costello and The Attractions concert was released the same year on about 300-500 pressings of a Canadian promotional album that became highly collectible—and heavily bootlegged. In fact, it may have been the most bootlegged of all Costello albums. The album was officially released in 1993 as a bonus disc in the four-CD box set 2 1/2 Years, and was also made available to those who bought the other three CDs separately.

At the time of the concert, the band was touring North America in support of My Aim Is True, Costello’s 1977 debut disc, and just days before the release of This Year’s Model, the first album with The Attractions: keyboardist Steve Nieve, bassist Bruce Thomas and drummer Pete Thomas. The raw, energetic live performance in the midst of the late ‘70s punk/new wave movement captured a band and an artist at their most impassioned. The concert included My Aim Is True’s “Watching The Detectives,” “Less Than Zero” (with new lyrics Costello penned for American listeners), “Mystery Dance,” “Waiting For The End Of The World,” “Welcome To The Working Week” and “Miracle Man,” and This Year’s Model’s anthemic “Pump It Up,” “The Beat,” “Lip Service,” “(I Don’t Want To Go To) Chelsea” (only on the original U.K. album), “Little Triggers,” “Radio Radio” (only on the U.S. edition), “Lipstick Vogue” and “You Belong To Me.”

But I do feel confident enough to proclaim Momofuku the best rock record Costello has made on which he didn't share billing with his golden-age backing band, the Attractions. Granted, Costello's non-Attractions rock efforts (Mighty Like A Rose, When I Was Cruel and the rest) have nearly always featured Attractions drummer Pete Thomas as well as that band's keyboard wizard, Steve Nieve. So I guess what I really mean to say is that Momofuku is Elvis' finest rock record sans Attractions bass player (and Costello nemesis) Bruce Thomas.

Aside from the hardly insignificant detail that those early Elvis Costello & the Attractions albums were part of a punk/new-wave moment that can't be replicated, the real disappointment I feel concerning Costello's post-Attractions work is all about their sound. I'm not sure exactly what Bruce Thomas' bass work -- slippery, at once rhythmic and melodic, always unpredictable -- brought to the party. Did his playing make his mates play differently in response? Or is it that Costello's latter-day backing band, the Imposters (basically the Attractions with bassist Davey Faragher in Bruce Thomas' place) have simply wanted to avoid, their name to the contrary, the old Attractions sound?

Whatever the explanation, those Attractions records sound like Attractions records; they sound instantly as if no other band could possibly be playing. This is particularly the case with the Attractions' urgent, busy rhythm section, which more than anything else helped to transform Costello's not inconsiderable vocal limitations into his distinctively Costello-ish vocal strengths. Costello's Imposters records, meanwhile, typically find both Nieve and Pete Thomas, two of the most singular players to ever grace a rock 'n' roll record, sounding like nothing more than a really good session group.

This creates another problem. Costello's unmistakable tone and phrasing now must carry all the weight of making his latter-day recordings sound like Elvis Costello records -- and Costello's voice these days, turned deeper and raspier with age, and whispery thin on its high end, is a ragged one indeed. This happens to a lot of singers as they get older. It happened to two of Costello's heroes, George Jones and Tony Bennett. But unlike those masters, Costello has yet to adapt his phrasing and melodies to make best use of his new instrument.

On Momofuku, Costello sometimes sounds like he couldn't sing quietly if he needed to -- and he needs to. On "Flutter And Wow" and "My Three Sons", songs as sweet and tender as any he's ever written, he can't make his voice sound either sweet or tender in the choruses; it's as if he requires the running head start of a shout to hit the notes.

Still, as I say, this is the best Costello album since... His songs remain strong as ever, and Momofuku benefits, too, from the energy of putting down the tracks in a hurry and mostly live. I'm particularly fond of the raging attack on our YouTube culture, "No Hiding Place", that opens the disc, and of "Harry Worth", which sounds, both musically and emotionally, like Sergio Mendes swallowing castor oil. Wisely, when Costello strains for the highest notes of the chorus, his paper-thin voice is masked by a small group of even higher voices. Then his voice fades from the mix altogether, though his bittersweet words are still ringing in our ears.

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"I want to bite the hand that feeds me/I want to bite that hand so badly/I want to make them wish they'd never seen me." Against a backbeat of pulsating bass and tremulous keyboards, Elvis Costello first sneered these lines thirty years ago on "Radio, Radio," the caustic finale of the raucous second side of This Year's Model, his major-label debut. The album has recently been given another lavish reissue treatment, this time by Universal (the previous two were by Rykodisc and Rhino), and with each reissue, complete with new liner notes and bonus tracks, Costello racks up yet another sale of the back catalog. Yet no matter how many times he's repackaged, the Elvis Costello of the late '70s will not become harmless. Those songs still have legs--along with teeth. Here's a couplet from "The Beat": "I don't wanna be your lover/I just wanna be your victim." Ouch. Elvis is this year's model yet again.

The bite of Costello's music has always been as keen as his musical appetite. He knows his Schubert Lieder, his Miles and Coltrane albums, his Mozart and Wagner operas, and his Ethiopian '70s pop so extensively that he could be rock 'n' roll's most prodigious aesthete, or at least archivist. The B-side covers of "My Funny Valentine" and "Gloomy Sunday" were early hints of his curatorial passion. But since he didn't earn the title of angry young man for nothing, we know that he's not shy about sharing his hatreds as well as his passions, and anyone familiar with his musical objects of enmity would be perplexed by his current role as the opening act for the Police during their North American stadium and arena tour. When Costello listed his 500 favorite CDs for Vanity Fair in November 2000, he made a point of noting whose music was absent: "You will see that some very famous names are missing completely. There is nothing at all by Led Zeppelin, the Doors, Michael Jackson, or Sting. You may love them. They just don't do it for me." Three years later, when the Police and Elvis Costello and the Attractions were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Costello was asked his opinion of the Police's performance: "They were bloody dreadful."

When Costello performed "Radio, Radio" to a gathering horde of Police fans in Buffalo's HSBC Arena on May 3, he sang the line about biting the hand that feeds him with conviction. He was hitting the same notes as his younger self, but he made no attempt to imitate them. What had been, in its genesis, adenoidal and guttural became steely, reserved, bellowing and a bit resigned. Three decades later, radio--really the music business--is still in the hands of such a lot of fools. It was just another day at the office: Costello sounded pissed off, as if he were a deskbound drone with a wanker for a boss.

The megastars performed a glitzy nostalgia show, bouncing with professional efficiency through a two-hour set that included pretty much every crowd-pleasing tune one would expect from an arena show with a three-figure ticket price. It began with Sting playing "Bring on the Night" an octave down from its original recording, with some fancy guitar picking and a mysterious offstage voice providing harmony--not quite Ashlee Simpson territory, but a little unsettling. Every conceivable hit followed, and their signature refrains--"sending out an SOS," "de doo doo doo, de da da da," "so lonely," "put on the red light"--were hammered into the crowd with a mind-numbing repetition stretched out by the band's inimitable, relentless white-guy ska grooves. The trio performed "Invisible Sun" against a backdrop of manipulative images of starving Third World children. (OK, proceeds from special VIP tickets went to the microfinance organization Unitus.) Sting also shook his 56-year-old ass at the suburban moms in the crowd, who went wild. This from a guy who recently topped the classical music charts with Songs From the Labyrinth, his performances of the late-sixteenth- and early-seventeenth-century lutenist and lyricist John Dowland. He has now found himself mining a more contemporary (and remunerative) nostalgia beat. Back in 1982, Costello summed up this mix of charity and vanity on "Town Cryer": "Other boys use the splendor of their trembling lip/They're so teddy bear tender and tragically hip."

Costello made way for the heritage act after playing an hourlong set. He showed off his octaves and vocal stamina while reminding the audience that he was, as usual, in creative overdrive. Backed by the Imposters (two-thirds of the original Attractions, with Davey Faragher filling in on bass for the exiled Bruce Thomas), Costello mixed up songs from the recently released Momofuku, his twenty-eighth album, with old hits, including a slightly funked-up "Every Day I Write the Book," a blistering "I Don't Want to Go to Chelsea" (or was it Buffalo?), an anthemic, irony-free run through Nick Lowe's "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love and Understanding?" (which could have been dedicated to John McCain) and "Alison," with Costello crooning mellifluously and somewhat bitterly for the girl who got away. Steve Nieve's rococo keyboard lines were fancy enough for a Royal Conservatory dropout and gritty enough for rock 'n' roll; drummer Pete Thomas was steady as ever; newcomer Faragher had done his homework and held his own with melodic support. OK, so the band banged out the obligatory sex, drugs and masturbation anthem "Pump It Up" for the zillionth time. Everyone has to make a living.

For those of us who have kept up with Costello, with each new release or tour we look for yet another genre plundered, signs of cracks in yet another relationship. And whether Costello is singing original chamber compositions with the Brodsky Quartet, performing his own vocalese renditions of Charles Mingus compositions with the Mingus Big Band or churning out rock 'n' roll with the Imposters, he gives us a place to find parts of ourselves in his seemingly endless catalog of beauty and bile. How many of us, in our brutal youth, dreamed of singing, say, "I Want You," "Party Girl" or a number of other rejection gestalts to a deserving target? In 1977 the 22-year-old Elvis claimed that his emotions did not range beyond "revenge and guilt," and the pairing stuck as a kind of objective correlative for songs like "Lipstick Vogue," "You Belong to Me," "Accidents Will Happen" and, well, almost everything else he recorded at the time. He wanted to call his third album Emotional Fascism, which could be yet another Costello Category, a state that many listeners found addictive. (The record's final title, Armed Forces, got the point across well enough.) By 1982, on Imperial Bedroom, he gave us a metaphysical conceit, a pairing of opposites that, at the time, seemed inseparable and that could also be a skeleton key to his work: "Love and unhappiness go arm and arm/Long-suffering friends of your fatal charm." Costello is a meticulous craftsman who also clearly has, for lack of a better term, issues.

With Momofuku, the issues are of a more esoteric sort. Named after the recently deceased inventor of the ramen noodle, the album is the audio equivalent of just adding boiled water. Momofuku was quickly inspired last February when Rilo Kiley's Jenny Lewis invited Costello to sing on her solo album. During Lewis's recording sessions, one thing led to another, and Costello suddenly had a batch of new songs, with Lewis among a harmonizing chorus who hold court and provide a dash of ironic, loungy sweetness and light throughout the record. That lush sound is made more enticing by its packaging: a double vinyl LP with three tracks on each side, which also makes for some light lifting. Let the songs settle in, flip, listen and repeat. Indeed, for the first two weeks after its April 22 release, Momofuku was, as Costello said on his label's website, available only in the archaic medium, "as the supreme being intended." (Since then it's also been available as a CD and an MP3.)

Momofuku's opening track, "No Hiding Place," is therefore appropriate in its Luddite theme, a screed against Internet trash talkers--all the sock puppets and snarky bloggers who fight and fester in the virtual gutter. Costello is, like the Dylan of "Idiot Wind," one of rock's great pugilists, crafting scorched-earth invectives with meticulous care and raw rhetorical power. He snarls at a little guy with his anonymous digital perch: "You can say anything you want to/In your fetching cloak of anonymity/Are you feeling out of breath now/In your desperate pursuit of infamy?" That word, "infamy," goes down with a lovely harmony, but Costello is just getting started. "Let's see how brave you are/When I'm about this far," Costello challenges, concluding, "You sit in judgment and bitch/Well, baby that's rich/You're nothing but a snitch." Apparently, some of us had been threatening our friend Costello--never a wise move.

Are these fictional harpies usurping Costello's cast of fictional victims? Or has he been personally affronted? "Sometimes I almost feel/Just like a human being," he seethed on "Lipstick Vogue," on This Year's Model. But then what, exactly, did he feel like most other times? Someone resembling the enraged, screwed-up twerp genius he was playing? Whatever. It worked, it was real and it was a rock 'n' roll victory lap: My Aim Is True (1977); This Year's Model (1978); Armed Forces (1979); Get Happy!! (1980); Trust (1981); and, of course, Imperial Bedroom (1982), a masterpiece of cabaret and orchestra pop produced by Beatles engineer Geoff Emerick that offered, on the closing chorus of "Pidgin English," a blatant message from the Beatles' first original B-side--the phrase "P.S. I Love You" repeated three times by a heavenly chorus of Costellos. There are many who go to Costello concerts only to hear songs from this early creative burst, uninterested in the maturity he was already achieving on Imperial Bedroom, even though he was all of 27 at the time.

Five years earlier, when My Aim Is True was released on the little indie label Stiff and hit the big time (reaching No. 14 in Britain and No. 32 in the United States), Costello was still a frustrated computer operator with bad teeth. For the punks, 1977 was supposed to be year zero. The Clash laid down the law stringently in "1977": "No Elvis, Beatles, or the Rolling Stones/In 1977." It was a musical orthodoxy even the Clash couldn't sustain; by the time they released London Calling two years later, with its ska influences and classic rock hooks, they had fought the law and the law had not won. Costello exuded an anger that shadowed the punk rage of the '70s, but he also drew inspiration from a range of musicians--including the Beatles, Randy Newman, Bob Dylan, the Band and Joni Mitchell--whose LPs would not be found on Malcolm McLaren's turntable. He offered something more melodic, more familiar, as he clawed his way into London's screeching parade. It is astonishing to imagine that on My Aim Is True, backed by members of Huey Lewis's band, Costello could uncork songs that would last for decades: "Alison," "Watching the Detectives" and "The Angels Wanna Wear My Red Shoes" are still staples in Costello's set. Still, even if the songs could transcend time, they were also, in a crucial way, of the time. The year that My Aim Is True was released was also the year that Woody Allen's Annie Hall won the Oscar for Best Picture. Neurotic dweebs with glasses could be plausible leading men in 1977.

Costello's neuroses and mutations have usually coincided with the end of one love affair and the beginning of a new one. Costello's first five years of pill-popping brilliance and nasty behavior--needled along by messianic praise from rock critics--came on the heels of a 1974 shotgun wedding to Mary McManus alongside a subsequent, postfame turbulent romance with Playboy Playmate (and mother of Liv Tyler) Bebe Buell. Costello's rather unexciting song cycle North (2003) exploited the topic of broken hearts quite nakedly: in the first track he bids adieu to Cait O'Riordan (wife number two) and several tunes later sings about finding new love with jazz singer and pianist Diana Krall (wife number three). Elvis's midcareer creative resurgence had coincided with the bloom of new love with O'Riordan in 1985, when Costello was a battle-scarred 30 and O'Riordan a wiry 20-year-old bassist for the Pogues. Their romance came in the wake of Goodbye Cruel World (1984), an album so poorly produced--a duet with Darryl Hall was one of its many embarrassments--that Costello threatened to quit the music business. When the album was reissued by Rykodisc in 1995, he began the liner notes with a declaration: "Congratulations! You just bought the worst album of my career."

The year 1986 was an annus mirabilis: Costello reclaimed his given name of Declan McManus, sprouted a scruffy beard and regained his musical integrity with King of America, in which he ditched the Attractions for a vibrant, quirky ensemble that included legendary jazz bassist Ray Brown and guitarist James Burton, who had previously played with another guy named Elvis. The songwriting was never sharper, the singing as supple and emotive as ever. Costello also never seemed less interested in being commercially successful. With its slide and acoustic guitar, its upright bass and its deft explorations in musical folklore before anyone had ever heard of "roots music," this was an album destined for a cult, not the charts. "You made the girls all turn their heads, and in turn they made you miserable," Costello sang on "Little Palaces." By then, he had long realized that getting the girl is just where the trouble begins; he had, in other words, matured--precociously, of course.

Just when Costello appeared to have transformed himself--as a bearded pop seer with an obscure Irish name--he returned, cleanshaven, to his old stage name and his old band. The result, Blood and Chocolate, appeared months after King of America, and even though he had a new wife, he was about to break up his band. "Blood and chocolate" are the first words uttered on the album's first track, "Uncomplicated," and while not exactly a metaphysical conceit, it is a pairing of necessary substances. On "I Want You," "Home Is Anywhere You Hang Your Head," "Poor Napoleon" and other songs, the thing Costello craves is always blended--painfully--with the thing he needs. And however bitten he may have sounded emotionally, he was always in full possession of his linguistic prowess: "Since when were you so generous and inarticulate?" asked Costello, who sounded like he was neither.

If Costello had no use for his old band, he found no shortage of new musicians. And so, as if he was unloading everything he could post-Attractions, Spike (1989) and Mighty Like a Rose (1991) both contained superlative songwriting, powerful singing and swoon-worthy guest stars. "...This Town...," Spike's opener, is played in an ensemble with Paul McCartney on bass and Roger McGuinn on twelve-string guitar. The albums have not gained the popularity of Costello's earlier work with the Attractions. Perhaps no one knew how to classify them. This music was all over the place, almost all of it in the third person: "Chewing Gum," a nasty take of a disappointed Asian mail-order bride, features a funk beat, fill-ins with the Dirty Dozen Brass Band and antiphonal playing from guitarist Marc Ribot, a postmodern virtuoso best known for keeping up with the genius growls emanating from the scorched lower reaches of the chest cavity of Tom Waits. "Veronica," co-written with McCartney, is a slickly produced hit of pop perfection. Mighty Like a Rose features "Hurry Down Doomsday (The Bugs Are Taking Over)," an apocalyptic dance number for people who don't know how to dance, and "How to Be Dumb," a "Positively 4th Street"-type revenge song aimed at Costello's ex-bassist Bruce Thomas, whose book The Big Wheel (1990) contained unflattering descriptions of a character known only as "the singer." Among the lines of Elvis's retort: "You always had to dress up your envy in some half-remembered philosophy."

Bruce Thomas is long gone from the band, yet Elvis the musician continues to reveal or conceal himself in elaborate ways on Momofuku. "Drum & Bone" wonders if human existence is all just a matter of our physical selves: "Maybe we're nothing but skin and bone/Nerves that shatter/Tongues that flatter." In the midst of this nihilism with a backbeat, Costello flashes a sense of humor that doesn't quite rise above the tune's dour premise: "And I'm trying to do the best I can/But I'm a limited, primitive kind of man." We know too well that he's neither limited nor primitive, which makes us wonder how much is tongue in cheek. Even more droll is "Mr. Feathers," a song about a pervert who ogles girls, evoking "the echo in every smile that would curl into a leer, oh my dear." All this is sung against a ragtime lilt that recalls the Kinks' "Sunny Afternoon." Mr. Feathers is unrepentant. Where is the revenge and guilt?

The two most spellbinding songs on Momofuku--"Harry Worth" and "Stella Hurt"--are tales of heartbreak told in the third person. "Harry Worth" shares the name of a British comic actor whose eponymous TV programs must have been present in the McManus household. Costello plays on the name with the line "She'd never know what Harry was worth." The song--about a marriage gone south--is the kind of unhappy-couple narrative that Costello has been mining since "The Long Honeymoon," from Imperial Bedroom, and "After the Fall," from Mighty Like a Rose. Pete Thomas's simple, crisp Latin beat, and Steve Nieve's hotel lounge Wurlitzer give the song a kind of rock noir kitsch, with Elvis as the Cassandra of the first verse, crooning: "We passed in the hall and I met them well/But as their carriage arrived, I found that I couldn't quite tell them." Tell them what, exactly? In the chorus, Elvis, a marriage and divorce veteran, can already see where the trouble begins:

It's not very far from tears to mirth
There are not many moments that will capture your breath
It's not very long that you spend on this earth
She'd never know just what Harry was worth

All this sounds like a combination of the bossa nova of Jobim and the hard-boiled stories of Jim Thompson, and it certainly emphasizes the "death" part of wedding vows. "Do you hear that noise?" asks Harry. "Well that once was our song." In this tragic tale, love--as the old lady on the street intones in Annie Hall--fades. Elvis observes, he croons, he sneers, and while the story is sad, the hooks are irresistible.

"Stella Hurt" is also a failure narrative, one based on a groove that owes a shilling or two to the Beatles' "Hey, Bulldog" and is also, as Costello says on his label's website, "a true story." It recounts, almost literally, how in the 1930s the Southern debutante Teddy Grace was plucked from obscurity to become a successful jazz singer (recording with Jack Teagarden and Bob Crosby, among others). She gave her all to the USO efforts during World War II and then, after a series of bad marriages and financial losses, fell into poverty and obscurity. It's a Depression-era narrative with a "Behind the Music" twist. What gave Teddy grace? Who made Stella hurt? As the Dickensian names accumulate, and as his own record spins, Costello imagines Stella's records gathering dust: "The night is black as cracked shellac/Abandoned in an attic/Stella is silent as the grave/Until the needle drags her through the static." All hail the record players, bringing out the dead! Once the tale is told, an inspired, hypnotic noise continues until it suddenly stops--as if a record needle has been lifted.

Momofuku's other force of reanimation is Costello's voice, an instrument that continues to confound the conventional wisdom of the fate of the midlife pop star. As Costello approached 40 and moved on to musical purgation, he did so by learning how to read and score--in collaboration with the Brodsky Quartet, a group best known for their performances of Shostakovich. In The Juliet Letters (1993), Elvis wove an epistolary narrative in which all the heartbreak, remorse, anger and tenderness is expressed through fictional characters. Without the support of any instrument beyond the Quartet's strings, his voice was naked: a dangerous weapon or a tender, heartbroken croon. His singing would never be the same again. He could give an operatic trill (as he does on "The Other End of the Telescope," co-written with Aimee Mann) or surge from a falsetto to a roaring, emotive tenor, most dramatically on "God Give Me Strength" with Burt Bacharach, who, like McCartney, was an object of Costello's teenage idolatry and, much later, a collaborator on Painted From Memory (1998). Do lessons in music theory make you a better rocker? They certainly expand one's musical palette, even if the main course is revenge and guilt.

With When I Was Cruel (2002), his first rock 'n' roll album in eight years, Costello had yet another marriage on the rocks. The album's pinnacle is "When I Was Cruel, No. 2," in which Costello, back in the first person, narrates a ceremony where his wives (exes and current) visit him like ghosts of past, present and future. It is a hypnotic seven minutes of emotions that veer beyond revenge and guilt to a more adult, fortysomething ennui; Costello belts out every tortured syllable not as a young punk but as a defiant cabaret diva, vocal chops intact, Weltzschmerz ripened by decades of wallowing, often loudly, in public. The haunting vamp is punctuated by a sample from "Un Bacio e Troppo Poco" by an Italian singer called Mina, whose repeated syllable, sounding like "un," guides a complex song that, bitterly, mixes memory and desire:


I exit through the spotlight glare
I stepped out into thin air
Into a perfume so rarefied
"Here comes the bride"
Not quite aside, they snide, "She's number four"
"There's number three just by the door"
Those in the know, don't even flatter her, they go one better
"She was selling speedboats in a trade show when he met her"

The nastiness is deferred (at first) onto the gossipy wedding guests; the speedboat remark is too tawdry even for the serial monogamist singer. And using "snide" as a verb would be ridiculous if it didn't scan so well. After three decades of rock stardom, Elvis has more control of his adenoids. Each syllable is heavy with experience and turns droll when the maudlin occasion becomes too much. "See that girl, watch that scene, dig in the Dancing Queen," he sings, royalties due to Abba.

On Momofuku, singing in the first person as well, Elvis writes of being a man in lust, and in love--family-man narratives that raise the question of whether Little Elvis, 54, is happy at last, yet again. On "Flutter & Wow," which recalls the sound of the Beatles' version of Smokey Robinson's "You Really Got a Hold on Me," a recording metaphor becomes an erotic description: "Erase everything rotten/Fascinated and uptight/Make me shout out loud/Make me cry all day and night." A flaw in an archaic mode of mechanical reproduction is tied to sexual energy, with the refrain: "You make the motor in me flutter and wow." ("Wow and flutter," also the title of a Stereolab song, refers to the imperfection of analog recording.) Costello embraces the flaws in the system; via metaphor, he embodies them. "Since the imperfect is so hot in us,/Lies in flawed words and stubborn sounds," wrote Wallace Stevens with a similar metaphorical flourish. Costello, burning the midnight oil in quickie sessions while performing on Jenny Lewis's record, has his ear to the flaws of the tape unspooling before him, and he hears the crackle of love. If "My Three Sons" falls flat--it is fatherhood territory covered in better songs including Paul Simon's "St. Judy's Comet" and John Lennon's "Beautiful Boy"--it may be because he can strike gold with a positive metaphor only once in a while. He's coming to this party without the revenge and guilt we were expecting. The imperfect is so hot in us, too.

Momofuku was recorded just in time for the massive tour with the Police, its intimate ditties hauled into cavernous arenas and stadiums. Yet just when you thought Costello was grinding through a tour supporting a headliner he didn't believe in, something strange happened in Chicago on May 10. Elvis was in the middle of crooning "Alison" for the zillionth time when the headliner, the one with a name that can wound, took over the mic and busted out a verse, which then moved on to the out chorus. It seemed like an apparition, but there he was: singing with the enemy, in a performance that would conclude with Elvis not biting the hand that feeds him but holding it in a shared, shaky bow. ("Newcastle's finest," blurted Costello by the time their duet got to West Palm Beach on May 17.) Sting sang the verses, and Elvis kicked in a harmony on the upper end. When they finally reached the end, the vamp continued, as Elvis, sharing a mic with Sting, was shouting in his face, extending longer lines, first belted out from his chest, then warbled loudly with a kind of frenetic melisma. The repetitions were becoming obsessive, like a loop spun with three decades of resentment. The duel got louder and louder until countdown. So much sonic upheaval over four little words. The repeated phrase? "My aim is true."

» www.thenation.com

Originally Momofuku was going to be released only on vinyl and digital download, an expression of Elvis Costello's frustration with the State of the Record Industry in 2008, but those plans soon changed, turning the album into a standard release yet not removing a sense of confusion surrounding its sudden appearance, as it arrived just after Costello publicly swore off ever recording again (or performing in the U.K., but that's another matter for another time). The very title of the record was a source of mystery, as it was suggested that it could perhaps be named after David Chang's string of N.Y.C. restaurants, but Costello clarified the situation by explaining that he and Chang shared a similar love of Momofuku Ando, the man who invented cup noodles. Such squawking over foodie arcana leaves little question that Momofuku the album exists where the air is rarefied but, as always with Elvis, words have meaning — as this record sprang to life in an instant, just like a bowl of ramen noodles. Invited to sing on Jenny Lewis' follow-up to Rabbit Fur Coat, an album he praised publicly, Costello arrived in a studio where half of his Imposters were already working on the record — along with Tennessee Thomas, the daughter of longtime Costello drummer Pete, and Lewis' boyfriend Johnathan Rice — and before long a couple of new Elvis originals were cut alongside the planned songs for Jenny, and that snowballed into the quickly written, quickly recorded, quickly released Momofuku.

That quicksilver speed is the key to Momofuku, and what separates it from all the albums Elvis Costello has cut in the decade since he signed with Universal. Almost every record from 1998's Painted from Memory on has had a conceptual thrust — even 2002's When I Was Cruel was designed as a back-to-basics record — but not this. It's merely a collection of 12 songs, all bashed out in a matter of weeks, not an album that's been labored over for months. Ironically enough, that rush of creative energy gives Momofuku a unified feel so it holds together as well, if not better, than such recent records as When I Was Cruel, which felt too deliberate in its classicism, or The Delivery Man, which was only wanting for the kinetic energy that this has in spades. That dynamic energy is down entirely to the speed of conception, how the record was cut in a short enough span so that Lewis, Rice, and Dave Scher (of Beachwood Sparks and All Night Radio) could lend harmonies throughout the record, lending a grace to the clattering "Turpentine." As the only female here, Lewis naturally stands out from the pack, but she's also given the opportunity to stand toe to toe with Costello, such as on the superb closer, "Go Away," as simple and addictive a song as he's written in years. Much of Momofuku is indeed this direct, at least in its construction — applying equally to the old-fashioned ballad "Flutter & Wow" as it does to such lean rockers as "American Gangster Time" — but the lyrics are as expertly crafted and wryly sophisticated as any latter-day Costello record. This sophistication can creep into the music as well, as the loungey puns of "Harry Worth," the clenched, dense rhythms of "Stella Hurt," and the cabaret shuffle of "Mr. Feathers" all recall a Spike recorded sans accoutrements. Again, that's where the speed of this whole enterprise works in its favor, as it makes these digressions seem funny, not fussy, and that's ultimately the charm of Momofuku: it captures a loose, natural Elvis Costello, somebody who hasn't been captured on record in years. It's still a Costello who plugs Lexus, writes operas, and plays jazz festivals, but here he's not trying to prove anything; he's just making music, and that's why it's one of his most enjoyable latter-day records.

» www.allmusic.com

"The absence of much advance notice or information might seem a little strange and perverse but the record was made so quickly that I didn't even tell myself about it for a couple weeks," Elvis Costello told Billboard back on April 22, 2008 as he marked the vinyl release date of his newest album Momofuku.

According to the Billboard interview, the songs on Momofuku were inspired by the work Elvis did on Jenny Lewis’ upcoming solo record.

Costello works with the Imposters on Momofuku and the tone is fresh and exciting while still maintaining the base of their sound. By adding the harmonies of Jenny Lewis, who stepped over to help Costello, Momofuku is full and unreserved. Packed with elegant melodies and lots of toe-tapping goodness, this may well be one of the best records of the year.

With the album title serving as a tribute to Momofuku Ando, the inventor of the Cup Noodle, Costello and the Imposters wanted the tone of “just add water” to infuse the record and create an raw sound. The speed of the recording and the untreated character of the players work wonders, as each tune unfolds naturally, rapidly and vigorously.

That vigour is the driving force of Momofuku. The wonder of the record is how it works with such ease to create such depth. Made in six days in Los Angeles, it is truly a work of Ramen-esque proportions.

Costello comes across as tranquil and pleased, even when he’s storming through convincing near-polemics like “American Gangster Time” and “Stella Hurt,” both of which serve as charming visions into the sort of “putdown rock” that he can do so well.

Originally set for a release purely on vinyl, Momofuku eventually saw its CD release at the beginning of May. By the time it hit compact disc, the record and Costello’s cheekiness had garnered the recording a great deal of attention. While the CD is a more than satisfactory way to listen to this record, I can only imagine how much more the music would come alive through the cracks of vinyl.

Costello’s moving glimpse inward on “My Three Sons” goes to show how much the man has changed through time and with fatherhood. At 53, he sounds worn but far from worn out as he runs the gamut of emotions and stands as strong as ever in front of the Imposters.

“Turpentine” has an addictive melody and its almost uncontrollable joy threatens to pop out of the speakers and instigate some sort of jubilant riot in the living room. Costello certainly has softened the edges a little bit and, as such, he comes across as more intuitive and less self-conscious.

And so it is that Costello’s finest work in quite some time is an invigorating revelation of what happens when a group of amazingly talented musicians gather in a room and “just add water.” Momofuku is inventive, sharp, lively, and potent. It is a gorgeous piece of work that deserves repeated spins, preferably on a favourite record player. But hey, we take what we can get!

» blogcritics.org

» www.irishabroad.com

In his 28th studio album, Elvis Costello revisits the brash and angry territories of his first three albums, collaborates with country legends Loretta Lynn and Roseanne Cash and flirts with more genres than you can count on one hand. Still, you have to wonder, are these great songs or do they just remind you of great songs?

Costello reconvenes the Impostors for Momofuku, which is two-thirds of the way towards assembling the late 1970s to mid-1980s Attractions—and a big part of his best work. Steve Nieves, whose trilling Vox defined hits like “Pump It Up” and “(I Don’t Want to) Go to Chelsea” (and whose classically-influenced grand piano contributed sheen of refinement to later songs), is back and seemingly same as ever. Pete Thomas, behind the kit since 1977’s “Watching the Detectives” has returned to provide the pounding tension behind torrid “Turpentine”, the steady gospel swing of “Flutter and Wow”, the explosive rock rhythms of “No Hiding Place”. Davey Faragher, who joined for 2002’s back-to-rock When I Was Cruel, does some wonderfully subtle bass work, urgent and pulsing on “Drum & Bone”, Latin slinky on the undulating “Harry Worth”, full of sensual slides on “No Hiding Place”. And, then, of course, there is Costello himself, returning in fabulous, hoarsely sardonic voice, slashing away on every variety of guitar and slipping in the kind of intricate wordplay that led him to declare himself “rock and roll’s scrabble champion” in the early 1980s.

All of which means that Elvis Costello, 30 years on since “Less than Zero”, sounds very much like Elvis Costello, abrasively intelligent, rhythmically unstoppable, harsh and soulful at the same time and, er, able to leap genres in a single bound. “American Gangster Time”, the standout among this disc’s rock songs, is a dark-toned triumph, its pessimistic imagery (the song opens with a pretty woman on her knees exchanging sex for drugs) hitched to exuberant rock riffs and a soaring chorus. Nieves’ Vox Continental alone would be enough to transport you back in time 30 years, trilling and squealing above the melody, even without the complex image-heavy lyrics that Costello spits and stutters. And yet, here’s a question: if you didn’t already long for exactly that sound, due to layers of personal history and three decades of affiliation with the Elvis Costello enterprise, would it have the same impact? Would “American Gangster Time” stop you cold the way that “Accidents Will Happen” or “Red Shoes” or “Watching the Detectives did all those years ago? It’s hard to say, but I’m leaning towards probably not.

Hardcore first-three-albums fans will lock onto the first three tracks of Momofuku, which hew most closely to the classic new wave Elvis sound. Starting with “Harry Worth”—a loungy, Latin-rhythmed stalk through images of a ruined marriage ("He said, do you hear that noise? Well, that once was our song.")—the album turns more contemplative and slower, tapping into mid-period Costello fascinations with jazz, pop and country. There is a warm and touching song dedicated to Costello’s children ("My Three Song") and a scratchy soul ballad that is subtly, obliquely about the garden of Eden ("Pardon Me, Madam, My Name Is Eve"). Costello, a champion collaborator, brings in two of the first ladies of country to write lyrics for him, Roseanne Cash for the grand “Song With Rose” and Loretta Lynn for “Pardon Me, Madam, My Name Is Eve.” Dave Scher of the Beachwood Sparks sits in on pedal or lap steel in four of 12 cuts, lending an indefinable rural melancholy to the proceedings.

Scher is also one member of a high-profile vocal “supergroup”—others include Jenny Lewis and Johnathan Rice—whose airy wooh-oohs and aaahs dot otherwise raw and uncompromising songs. I have nothing against these artists, personally, as singers or as musicians, but they get in the way. “Turpentine” almost sinks under the weight of their embellishments, its raucous, guitar-and-drum frenzy slipping under a too-sweet doo-woppy refrain of “Turpentine....” You can admire Costello’s willingness to reach out to the next generation, to incorporate them into his work, but it doesn’t really work. If anything the backing vocals obscure his edge, and Elvis Costello’s edge is something worth preserving.

In the end, Momofuku is the kind of more-than-solid effort that reaffirms a great artists’ relevance, but doesn’t quite prove it all over again. It allows Elvis Costello to rampage over knotty rock tunes with a seasoned band, and to breathe soul and artistry into down-tempo meditations. It may not add a single classic to the 20 to 30 great songs under the Elvis Costello byline, but it reminds us of them, and that’s a good thing.

» www.popmatters.com

Not that long ago Elvis Costello was telling anyone who would listen that he was through making records. After 30 years in the industry he was fed up with the music business -- it had become more about the money and less about the music. The man, who got his start by crashing a Columbia Records convention, couldn't see much of a future in his chosen profession and made tracks for the hills of Vancouver to raise a family.

Something happened earlier this year to change his mind. He went down to L.A. to sit in on a Jenny Lewis recording session and had so much fun he decided to make his own album. A month later he came out of the studio with the magnificent Momofuku.

All evidence suggests that Elvis is still fed up with the music business but he's decided to make a stand -- he's staying and the people who are rubbing him the wrong way can either get used to the idea or leave.

Everything about Momofuku is old school. The album was originally going to come out only on vinyl with a digital download code available to make it easy to transfer the music to iPods. Elvis loves iPods. Later on a CD version was also thrown into the mix and that was distributed to stores last week.

The CD breaks down the 12 tracks into sides one and two just like a vinyl LP and gives thumbnail versions of the photographs that producer Jason Lader shot of the January/February 2008 sessions. Vinyl purchasers will get the cover art as it was intended in glorious widescreen just like back in the day. Elvis is not enamoured with thumbnails of anything.

The packaging is just a set up for the music inside which rocks just like it was 1979 -- this is Elvis Costello and the Imposters in their prime with a few special guests such as Jenny Lewis, Los Lobos' David Hidalgo and Johnathan Rice. Tennessee Thomas, daughter of Imposter drummer Pete Thomas, was involved in the Lewis sessions and sits in on several songs playing alongside her dad.

Even though Momofuku was put together in short order the words have been worked over in true Costello fashion. He came prepared. The first track, No Hiding Place, kicks off with "In the not very distant future/When everything will be free/There won't be any cute secrets/Let alone any novelty . . ."

Like a Raymond Chandler of rock'n'roll Costello weaves his stories in and out of the music. My Three Sons is obviously autobiographical and Flutter and Wow better be about Diana, but the rest of it takes off in many directions. For the album's lyrics go to www.elviscostello.com.

Elvis Costello and the Imposters have just been announced as one of the headliners of the Whistler Music Festival July 19 and 20. Other bands lined up include The Roots, Broken Social Scene, Robert Randolph, Medeski Martin Wood, Bedouin Soundclash and Serena Ryder. Tickets are available exclusively at www.whistlermusicfestival.com or via phone at 877-655-4TIX. Tickets are $67.50 for single-day passes and $120 for two-day passes.

Album Rating: 8/10

» www.canada.com

It is always interesting to take a listen when an artist puts out an album that is described as having a sound that reinvents said musician. The results can be good or bad, but they are rarely boring. Elvis Costello has reinvented himself so many times over the years, that it really is pointless to try and peg the guy to a single sound.

On "Momofuku" it seems that Costello has done it again, popping into the studio with the likes of Jonathan Rice, David Hildalgo and Jenny Lewis. The crew emerged just a few days later with a completed album.

The results are even more surprising than the brevity of the recording session. While Costello has put out some truly interesting music in the last 20 years ("Spike," "The Juliet Letters," "Painted From Memory"), this is the first release that recaptures the excitement of hearing Costello's 1977 debut, "My Aim Is True." One listen to tracks such as "No Hiding Place," "Harry Worth" and "Stella Hurt," and the wickedly good memories of Costello and his Attractions will come flooding back.

The best song by far is "American Gangster Time," which sounds like it has been sitting in a time capsule for the last 30 years, just waiting for the right moment.

Ladies and gentlemen, that moment is now. Not every single track works flawlessly, but there is an amazing amount of good music here.

If Costello's classic sound makes you smile, then most of what is on "Momofuku" will give you perma-grin.

GRADE: A -

Download These: "American Gangster Time," "No Hiding Place," "Stella Hurt"

» www.charleston.net

I came away from Elvis Costello’s superb but too-brief warm-up set for the Police Tuesday night at the Hollywood Bowl wondering when we might get a full-blown headlining turn to support his strong new album Momofuku. A night at the Greek, for instance, seems long overdue. At the very least, another, songbook-surverying Wiltern appearance would seem in order.

Then I woke up Wednesday morning to find I’d been invited to just the show I wanted to see: Costello and the Imposters (“With Friends,” as the marquee noted) at the El Rey. Show time: 11:45 p.m.

If I raced across town fast enough after doing my duty at Kenny Chesney and LeAnn Rimes at Staples Center, I figured I might just make it. I wouldn’t get home till who-knows-when, of course — no telling what or for how long Costello might play under such last-minute circumstances. But knowing there’s nothing in the near-future planned from him I instantly decided I’d pay the price later. Opportunities like this don’t come along every day. So what if I won’t get to bed until almost 4 a.m.

Man, am I glad I made the effort …

Costello, in roaring form once more (and seemingly in the same black suit and bolo tie he wore at the Bowl), served up 27 songs in two hours in one of the finest performances I’ve seen him give in a quarter-century of keeping tabs. I heard “I Hope You’re Happy Now” and “Clown Strike” only from outside, while waiting in line with the other guest-listers and die-hards hoping for a miracle. Yet even from there I could tell he was clearly in great spirits, eager to deliver something special to a packed house brimming with friends of friends and celeb admirers (I spotted No Doubt’s Tony Kanal jockeying for position not long after the set started).

What resulted was both a terrific career overview in the first half, spanning all corners of his catalog, and what I’m sure will come to be a rare spotlight of Momofuku in the second half, with everyone who played on the record (save for Jenny Lewis, who’s on tour herself) taking part. Tennessee Thomas joined her workhorse Attractions dad Pete on drums. Lewis’ beau Johnathan Rice and Jonathan Wilson added guitar to Davey Faragher’s steady, melodic bass lines. “Farmer Dave” Scher’s pedal steel greatly complemented Steve Nieve’s array of keyboard flourishes.

You could tell here and there that Costello hasn’t quite committed every new lyric he’s penned to memory; he needed a reference sheet once or twice for “Drum & Bone,” for instance. But that’s easily forgiven, considering how this new batch of tunes instantly arrived, and how little they’ve probably been rehearsed. And still stormy new ones like “Turpentine” and “Go Away” and an improved “Pardon Me, Madam, My Name Is Eve” (a Loretta Lynn co-write) and “Song for Rose” (assisted by Rosanne Cash) and quirkier, moodier, Spike-ier fare like “Harry Worth” and “Mr. Feathers” — and, best of all, “Flutter and Wow,” one of his rarities, a great and tender love song — they all came across as if they’ve been in his repertoire since at least King of America.

As for the quality of the selections he pulled out that have been around for years, in many cases decades, well, this longtime devotee has no complaints. The rundown is pretty stunning: “Either Side of the Same Town” … another airing of “Everyday I Write the Book,” more soulful than the night before … a torrential “Spooky Girlfriend,” followed by an even more ripping run through “(I Don’t Want to Go to) Chelsea” … excellent renditions of “Motel Matches” and “New Lace Sleeves,” the latter seamlessly segueing into “Green Shirt” … an impassioned reading of “Brilliant Mistake,” with a peppier pace and a hint of Dylan’s “Tangled Up in Blue” in its coda … tremendous takes on “Beyond Belief” and “The Imposter” to close out the first half … a rollicking tear through the staple “Mystery Train” and then “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding” to call it a night at 2 a.m.

If I seem rather overcome, well, four hours of sleep after six hours of show will do that to you. Suffice to say, of the dozens of Costello encounters I’ve had over the years, this one instantly leaps into my Top 3.

» soundcheck.freedomblogging.com

Elvis Costello is as unpredictable as life is, and he likes it that way.

"I never plan a next move," Costello said. "I don't have that ambition to say, ‘I have to do this that way this time.' You'll be disappointed. I just find myself doing things. You just follow it through the best way you can and get the most out of it and have the most fun you can have doing it."

Costello is currently on tour. His new album, Momofuku, named for the creator of Ramen Noodles because the album came together almost instantly, was released on vinyl and digital-download only in April and on CD earlier this month. He hadn't wanted to release it on CD, feeling that CDs are a dying media form and vinyl is the way "the Supreme Being intended" recorded music to be delivered.

Over lunch in Knoxville, Tenn., Costello was a far cry from the angry young man he was once reported to be.

He jokes easily. "I have the blood pressure of an 18-year-old. Unfortunately, it's an 18-year-old Labrador," he said just before ordering a salad and a baked potato.

Costello is gracious with fans wanting autographs and photos with him, seems optimistic about the future of music, talks of being happily married (to singer/pianist Diana Krall) and the father of year-old twin sons (and an adult son from a previous marriage) and how much fun he has working on a new TV show for the Sundance Channel. He also says that before recording Momofuku, he really didn't have plans to ever record again.

"I sort of got myself in the frame of mind that it wasn't any fun anymore because the business was so screwed up that it sucked out all the things I liked about it," Costello said. " But I really like playing so I thought, ‘Let's just do that.' Then I thought, ‘No, that's crazy. Change the business if you don't like the way it is. Don't give up on it now.'"

The world became aware of Elvis Costello in 1977 when his album, My Aim Is True, marked the arrival of a literate and edgy new British singer-songwriter. He was lumped with the punk movement and later New Wave, but Costello continually confounded expectations. He recorded an R&B album, a country disc, collaborated with pop master Burt Bacharach and later released music in the jazz and classical categories.

"People just get way too serious about everything," Costello said. "They overanalyze it and try to solve this big jigsaw puzzle and get all indignant in some of the write-ups....

"This juvenile idea of ‘our music and their music' is ludicrous. There is no ‘our music and their music.' There's just ‘music.' If you don't understand it, at least have the honesty to admit you just don't or that it just isn't for you.... The biggest misconception is that you're doing it to look clever.... It isn't exactly difficult to be the cleverest person in the room in show business."

Costello recently filmed four episodes of a new talk/music show, Spectacle: Elvis Costello With ..., which will premiere on the Sundance Channel in November. The first guests are Tony Bennett, Lou Reed, Elton John (also the show's co-producer) and former President Bill Clinton.

Costello said he has no idea what the future will hold, but he isn't worried.

"I think the record business has gotten a bit overheated in the past few years. It started to resemble the blockbuster-movie business -- how many it's sold in the past week. Tell me how many it's sold five years from now and tell me how smart you were. Most of the people making the judgments about what to do and the way things are in the business are people who have been there five minutes and won't be there in five minutes. I've always taken this as a vocation and taken the position that I'm going to be here a long time."

» www2.journalnow.com

**Elvis Costello and the Imposters, the Roots and Broken Social Scene have been tapped for this year's inaugural Whistler Music Festival, to be held July 19-20 at Tube Park at Base II on the side of Blackcomb Mountain in Whistler, B.C.

Other artists performing at the festival include Robert Randolph & the Family Band, Medeski Martin and Wood, Bedouin Soundclash and Serena Ryder. Additional acts will be announced in the coming weeks. Tickets for the event go on sale beginning May 29 via whistlermusicfestival.com. Single-day tickets are priced at about $67.50, and two-day passes cost $120.

"We'll be in an unbelievable setting in the middle of the mountains," Festival Network CEO Tom Shepard recently told Billboard.

The Whistler Music Festival is produced by Festival Network in collaboration with Tourism Whistler, Whistler-Blackcomb and Resort Municipality of Whistler. Festival Network also overseas such jazz/folk-themed festivals as JVC Jazz Festival Miami, Los Angeles' Playboy Jazz Festival and JVC Jazz Festival New York.

The event brings another major concert to the Whistler area; the inaugural Pemberton Festival will be held just north of the town the weekend after Whistler and will feature performances by Coldplay, Jay-Z and Nine Inch Nails, among others.

**Article from Billboard.com

» www.billboard.com

» www.pitchforkmedia.com

Costello named Momofuku after the inventor of instant noodles, referencing how the album was cooked up in just one week. And its sounds befits that ethic: Guitars are hurried, vocals raw, and the lyrics riled up. With trademark vituperation, Costello mixes global and sexual politics in “American Gangster Time” (a veritable This Year’s Model outtake) and even attacks Web gossipers in “No Hiding Place.” But there are pinches of gentleness. Soul ballad “Flutter & Wow” might be the best of his rare love songs, and harmonies from Rilo Kiley’s Jenny Lewis add elegance to this garagey mix.

Download This: No Hiding Places

Fueled by Steve Nieve's roller-rink organ, the clang of Costello's electric guitar and a pop sensibility formed by the British Invasion, he sputters his way through a dizzying stream of well-turned phrases with a savage wit and cruel intentions.

The lead-off track, No Hiding Place, may even share a strand or two of DNA with Blood and Chocolate's Home Is Anywhere You Hang Your Head as Costello scoffs at online ne'er-do-wells with "You can say anything you want to in your fetching cloak of anonymity." In American Gangster Time, the band's garage-punk swagger punctuates his sneer as he spits out the tale of a pretty young prostitute wishing her trick "were mute and not just dumb." And the blues-punk grind of Stella Hurt provides the perfect backdrop to his portrait of a girl whose hands were made to wring the necks of "silly Southern Belles."

But there are lighter moments, too, from the romance of Flutter & Wow, a stately ballad from the Memphis soul school, to the quirky music hall approach of the piano-driven Mr. Feathers.

» www.azcentral.com

Elvis Costello does things differently.

A couple of months ago, he went down to Los Angeles to guest on a new solo record by Jenny Lewis, the singer in Rilo Kiley. He got inspired, wrote a bunch of songs, called in his bandmates, then recorded his own record in six days.

Two weeks ago, the record was released without any fanfare or hype - but only as a vinyl LP and digital download. This week it comes out on compact disc, still without any fanfare or hype.

Given the bang-bang way it came together, it's not all that surprising that it's a bit of a bang-bang record: Elvis is back in rock and roll mode.

Well, at least on some songs - Elvis Costello records tend to be stylistically varied. The opening No Hiding Place is a stomper with a wicked guitar line, while the raucous American Gangster Time could be an outtake from This Year's Model, propelled by some wonderful new wave-'60s organ from Steve Neive. The nastiest number is Stella Hurt, which is as gnarly and lowdown as anything Costello has ever recorded.

On the flip side, volume-wise, there's a lovely ballad about fatherhood called My Three Sons which features Elvis at his most tender and lyrically direct. Song With Rose (co-written by Rosanne Cash) has a majestic feel enhanced by the use of 12-string and steel guitar, while Pardon Me Madam, My Name Is Eve is a slinky, slow-burning ballad (the title came from Loretta Lynn, who Elvis recently wrote some songs with).

Jenny Lewis chips in some harmonies, and her band joins Costello's Imposters on a couple of songs, making for a nine-piece ensemble (a nonet). In a release Elvis describes the resulting sound as "a fine old noise," an apt description for all of Momofuku.

» www.canada.com

The title is a nod to Momofuku Ando, the creator of Ramen noodles and the first cup noodles. Given the rapid, no frills way Momofuku reached the world – initially it was planned as a quick digital download and vinyl release, and that after Costello announced he would stop recording altogether last year – one can only guess at why the noodle king got the shout out, though it may not be entirely complimentary. Costello's disgust with the empty fast food nature of the recording industry is well documented, so referencing the man who gave us instant soup encased in Styrofoam may tie into that distaste for monolithic, lowest common denominator thinking. His sights on corporate goons and (recording) industry mooks concerned with making a killing in the market, Costello cranks up his "Radio, Radio," proudly announcing, "Whatever I said about you/ I didn't say it behind your back," fully aware that "It's not very far from tears to mirth" no matter where you stand.

All musing aside, the songs are uniformly solid, particularly the snarling head charge of "American Gangster Time," the sick bop of "Turpentine," the laidback Bossa vibe of "Harry Worth," the fuzzy, Farfisa fueled "Stella Hurt" and the slinky beach shuffle of "Go Away." Everything is grounded in Pete Thomas' pummeling jungle drums, Steve Nieve's sweeping keys and a powerful SoCal chorus that includes Johnathan Rice, Jonathan Wilson and Jenny Lewis, who proves a superb harmony foil for Costello, her sweetly sour coo flavoring Elvis' oaken croak like time touches whiskey. Pedal steel from "Farmer" Dave Scher (Beachwood Sparks) adds further atmosphere, but the overriding tone is a band laying it down live-in-the-studio.

Well constructed and well played, Momofuku is a happy affirmation of Costello's endurance and a meaty bone for those who yearn for Elvis' more straightforward early work. The indefinable "why" of classics like "Watching The Detectives" and "Pump It Up," the way they always make one dial up the volume and shake happily, is fully present on this entertaining slab that never dumbs things down. On "Stella Hurt," Costello barks, "This is not the last act of the story." Let's hope not if he's got this much ink left in his well.

» www.jambase.com

Elvis Costello is as unpredictable as life is, and he likes it that way.

"I never plan a next move," says Costello on Tuesday a few hours before going on stage at the Tennessee Theatre. "I don't have that ambition to say 'I have to do this that way this time.' You'll be disappointed. I just find myself doing things. You just follow it through the best way you can and get the most out of it and have the most fun you can have doing it."

That goes for this day, as well. Costello hasn't done any previous interviews for his current tour. His new album, "Momofuku," named for the creator of Ramen Noodles because the album came together almost instantly, was released on vinyl and digital-download only in April and on CD last week. He hadn't wanted to release it on CD, feeling CDs are a dying media form and vinyl is the way "nature intended" recorded music to be delivered.

Over a two-hour lunch at Sullivan's Saloon, Costello was a far cry from the angry young man he was once reported to be.

He jokes easily: "I have the blood pressure of an 18-year-old. Unfortunately it's an 18-year-old Labrador," he says just before ordering a salad and a baked potato.

Costello is gracious with fans wanting autographs and photos with him, seems optimistic about the future of music, talks of being happily married (to singer/pianist Diana Krall) and the father of year-old twin sons (and an adult son from a previous marriage) and how much fun he has working on a new TV show for the Sundance Channel. He also says that before recording "Momofuku," he really didn't have plans to ever record again.

"I sort of got myself in the frame of mind that it wasn't any fun anymore because the business was so screwed up that it sucked out all the things I liked about it," says Costello. "That ended the minute you handed the record in. But I really like playing so I thought, 'Let's just do that.' Then I thought, 'No, that's crazy. Change the business if you don't like the way it is. Don't give up on it now.' "

The world became aware of Elvis Costello in 1977 when his album "My Aim Is True" marked the arrival of a literate and edgy new British singer-songwriter. He was lumped with the punk movement and later new wave, but Costello continually confounded expectations. He recorded an R&B album, a country disc, collaborated with pop master Burt Bacharach and later released music in the jazz and classical categories. Revered as one of music's greats, he has also been criticized for his eclecticism.

"People just get way too serious about everything," says Costello. "They overanalyze it and try to solve this big jigsaw puzzle and get all indignant in some of the write-ups: 'Only do what I want and everything will be allright.' Well, obviously, I'm not going to do that! I'm doing this over here and it may not be to your taste and you may not like it, but I'm doing it so I can find out about it and have those experiences. I don't want to get down to the end of my life and say 'Well, I kind of had the chance to sing with an orchestra or to play with some different musicians and do some types of things, but I was too timid to do it.'

"This juvenile idea of 'our music and their music' is ludicrous. There is no 'our music and their music.' There's just 'music.' If you don't understand it, at least have the honesty to admit you just don't or that it just isn't for you. … The biggest misconception is that you're doing it to look clever. … It isn't exactly difficult to be the cleverest person in the room in show business! I don't think I'm anywhere near the cleverest person around, but it's so overestimated. The last thing I would do is to make myself look smarter than the next person. I'm just not interested in being smart. I'm interested in feeling things."

It was the feeling that inspired Costello to record "Momofuku." Costello was doing a guest spot on a new album by Rilo Kiley's Jenny Lewis and he enjoyed the experience so much that he decided to unite the crew from Lewis' disc with his own band, plus some friends, and record his own disc.

Costello had a song he'd written with Rosanne Cash in hand as well as a couple of tunes written with Loretta Lynn. However, the bulk of what would become "Momofuku" was written in the two weeks that Costello was waiting for the other musicians' schedules to allow them to record.

While Costello says he didn't intend to write confessional songs, a few of the tracks are among the most personal of his career.

"I just wrote what I was thinking about at that moment," says Costello. "Sometimes you play them and you don't have time to think about them. They're just exactly whatever you were thinking."

That includes the song "My Three Sons."

"Some people are going to be a little bit discomforted about it and think it's too sentimental," says Costello. "But they're not me. They have the idea that I have to be angry all the time or I don't perform to their idea of who I should be. But I am who I am now. It doesn't weaken you to love someone. It strengthens you. All people."

He says the song also contains some regret and fear.

"Obviously when you're older and you're a father you have to think about how long you'll be on this Earth. Those things temper the joy. It's not a universal experience, so I don't expect everybody to understand it. But for what it's worth, that's what the song is about."

Costello recently filmed four episodes of a new talk/music show, "Spectacle: Elvis Costello With …" which will premiere on the Sundance Channel in November. The first guests are Tony Bennett, Lou Reed, Elton John (also the show's co-producer) and President Bill Clinton.

"I'm trying to get the most busy people in the world," says Costello, smiling.

The show has been filled with surprises. Clinton talked about how much music influenced him while he was growing up in Arkansas. Reed, a notoriously difficult interview, was engaging and discussed his love of R&B. John talked about obscure songwriters he loved and Bennett, unexpectedly, invited Krall, who was in the audience, on camera to perform with him on "I've Got the World On a String."

Costello says he has no idea what the future will hold, but he isn't worried.

"The last couple of years have been amazing. Considering becoming a father again and setting up a new home in another country (he generally lives in Krall's native Canada), I've done an amazing amount of work. We've been fortunate that our boys have been healthy and have traveled with us. The rest of the time I've had to travel and be away for short periods of time. But I got to go to Merlefest last year. I got to play a group of dates with an orchestra, and a summer tour of Europe with Allen Toussaint and Steve Nieve.

"I think the record business has gotten a bit overheated in the past few years. It started to resemble the blockbuster movie business - how many it's sold in the past week. Tell me how many it's sold five years from now and tell me how smart you were. Most of the people making the judgements about what to do and the way things are in the business are people who have been there five minutes and won't be there in five minutes. I've always taken this as a vocation and taken the position that I'm going to be here a long time."

» www.knoxnews.com

If we are to believe the very prolific words that Elvis Costello has posted on his Web site, Momofuku takes its name from Momofuku Ando, the inventor of the cup noodle.

OK. Why?

”Like so many things in this world of wonders, all we had to do to make this record was add water,“ he writes.

Well, in truth, Costello simply added some musical acquaintances new (Rilo Kiley's Jenny Lewis) and longstanding (Los Lobos' David Hidalgo) as well as the support of his band, the Imposters, which is really his career-defining band, the Attractions, with flexible bassist-vocalist Davey Faragher as the only modification. Costello recorded and mixed the album in a week, then made it initially available, in this download age, only as a vinyl album. The CD version of Momofuku hits stores Tuesday.

The recording process aside,Momofuku is no retrofest. Admittedly, hearing Steve Nieve's cheesy organ runs whip around the album's opening tunes like a Jack Russell terrier conjures thoughts of the wondrously obstinate music that the Attractions cut, amazingly, three decades ago. But Momofuku is as instinctual as any record Costello has made. It boasts a mix of pop smarts and coarse rock 'n' roll cunning that brings to mind such great upstart Costello albums as Mighty Like a Rose and Blood and Chocolate. But even those comparisons trivialize the sparks that fly off these tunes.

As usual, Costello is a sucker for stories of dark melody and even darker wit, as in the way the Dickensian badlands of Harry Worth — where ”streets are paved with heaven's penance, gutters are full of suicide“ — are given mighty shoves from Nieve's piano-pounding jabs and loads of jagged, fuzzy guitar.

”I rather go blind for speaking my mind,“ Costello sings earlier in American Gangster Time, a tune whose vintage Attractions attack, along with Lewis' vocal support, creates a sense of pop urgency that is familiar yet vitally new.

And then there are instances when Costello blithely takes on the essentials of the human condition.

On Drum and Bone, he sings unapologetically over a spry acoustic shuffle from the standpoint of ”a limited, primitive kind of man.“ But on Pardon Me, Madam, My Name Is Eve, the unrest goes all the way back to the Garden of Eden. There, jealousy and hypocrisy are no match for the burdens of the waiting world (”there's always someone on the outside doing all the suffering“).

A lighter turn is taken on My Three Sons, a tune that is tender in tone and autobiographical in subject matter. It's not exactly an ode to the generations-old Fred MacMurray TV show of the same name. But it's equally wholesome.

The journey concludes with Go Away, a subtle little rave-up/kiss-off rocker built around a deliriously static drum and organ roll that recalls the 1960s single 96 Tears. It's the kind of melody that will stick in your brain for days.

In the end, Momofuku comes off like a movie set on fast-forward that manages to make perfect sense. There's color, noise, passion, regret, humor, joy, melody and an incredible sense of motion. Just don't forget to add water.

Note: Elvis Costello and the Imposters perform at 8 p.m. May 7 at Louisville Palace. Tickets are $44.50 through TicketMaster, (859) 281-6644 or www.ticketmaster.com

» www.kentucky.com

» www.examiner.com

Elvis Costello can write a well-wrought song with ease, but he usually doesn’t just throw records out there. “Momofuku,” which takes its name from the inventor of instant noodles, is different. It’s effortfully tossed off; it’s a middling record battling against his built-in high standards.

Verifiable news about “Momofuku” first surfaced on Mr. Costello’s Web site, elviscostello.com, the day of the album’s release on vinyl two weeks ago. (It comes out on CD this week.) The album started, Mr. Costello wrote in his post, when he contributed vocals to Jenny Lewis’s next record, which also included Davey Faragher, Mr. Costello’s regular bass player.

Mr. Costello then brought his drummer, Pete Thomas, into the picture and made his own record in a week, finishing the job less than three months ago. It involved a few other helpers, including Ms. Lewis, the singer-songwriter Johnathan Rice (Ms. Lewis’s boyfriend) and Mr. Thomas’s daughter Tennessee Thomas (also a drummer). Steve Nieve, another member of the Imposters, joined them on keyboards.

From time to time it sounds like Mr. Costello’s early work. “No Hiding Place,” a song about the loss of dignity in the world, flashes the wit and ill-humor of his younger days, though this is a middle-aged man’s complaint. (“You can say anything you want to in your fetching cloak of anonymity,” he sings. “Are you feeling out of breath now, in your desperate pursuit of infamy?”) The Vox organ suffusing “American Gangster Time,” and its drum rhythm, recalls “Radio Radio,” from Mr. Costello’s 1978 album “This Year’s Model”; the “In the Midnight Hour” bass line in “Go Away” sounds like something from “Get Happy!!” from 1980. There are hints of bossa nova and country and sophisticated ’70s pop, though nothing here is a real genre exercise; the album is too low key for that.

For a record bashed out in a week — the kind of album in which the singer says, “Are we rolling?” and indicates to his band when to go to the bridge — “Momofuku” is not bare-bones. It has up to four backup singers and nine musicians at any given time, and sometimes a bit of space noise and backward effects in the guitars — the kind of thing done by indie-rockers with some time on their hands. But Mr. Costello determinedly allows imperfection with a small and squalid electric-guitar tone, his voice cracking and occasionally turning flat.

He is playing from within his own tradition and seemingly trying to make the act sound average and workaday. “Maybe this is nothing but drum and drone,” he sings at one point. “Wanna beat it till I get unknown.”

» www.nytimes.com

» www.elviscostello.com

Never mind his Irish-British heritage, Elvis Costello truly is the King of America, or at least American music, as his 1995 album implies. Master of the poisonous put-down, wielder of heartbreak melodies - he is equal parts Buddy Holly, Burt Bacharach and Gram Parsons, with a patented sneer that has aged in its sweet bitterness like fine wine. His continued musical impact has gone light years beyond even his namesake's influence.

Still, at this point in Costello's career, it would be unfair to expect of the man anything as raw and rapturous as This Year's Model or bruised and delicately crafted as Blood & Chocolate. But as his latest album confirms, Costello has absolutely no intention of resting on his laurels.

Momofuku, curiously named for the inventor of instant noodles, finds Costello relevant as ever. Opting for a non-traditional release (as so many artists have of late), he chose to release the album on vinyl two weeks prior to today's CD release, offering purchasers a download code to go with their long players.

Whatever your preferred format might be, Costello's latest surpasses his post-Attractions output as the most cohesive album he has cut in over a decade. Back together with The Imposters (which features two of his original Attractions members), the 53-year-old musician comes across invigorated and ready to challenge himself.

In what could turn out to be 2008's most musically beneficial reciprocation, Momofuku came out of Costello's involvement with the forthcoming Jenny Lewis (Rilo Kiley) solo album. Welcoming the new blood, The Imposters integrate Lewis and her guitarist/beau Johnathan Rice on several tracks. Be it Costello's or the Lewis/Rice camp's influence, Momofuku sounds as if a fresh set of ears had some input in shaping the songs.

The album is both cohesive and exhaustive in covering Costello's many faces. There is a discerning adoration for his best work applied throughout, with the benefit of hindsight and just the right amount of tinkering.

Aging gracefully does not mean turning the amps down or forgoing exploration. "Stella Hurt" rages its way into a swirl of reverberated organs and guitars, pounding away into a deep, hypnotic groove. Pushing the six-minute mark, "Turpentine" stretches out over a pseudo-Bo Diddley beat into a psychedelic mash-up.

"You did everything to me that stops short of murder," Costello sings. His caustic wit has not been dulled in the slightest by the years passed. The somewhat inevitable notes of middle-aged nostalgia and sentiment creep in on "My Three Sons," as Costello imparts some fatherly love and wisdom. The lyrical content of the song diverts from the rest of the material, not to mention its relative weakness.

After 30 years of elevating his craft, it is pretty safe to say Costello has earned the right to a musical Hallmark moment here and there. And as far as indulgences go, "My Three Sons" is nothing extravagant. Elsewhere on Momofuku, the man is all business.

On "American Gangster Time," Costello and Imposters members Steve Nieve and Pete Thomas revisit their fantastic late-'70s output. The warm analog recording and the singer's well-weathered voice completely belie the time passed in between The Attractions' earlier albums and Momofuku.

The piano-led number "Mr. Feathers" could have easily been a stripped-down demo from the Imperial Bedroom sessions, while the mournful Americana on "Song with Rose" (co-written with Rosanne Cash) recalls King of America with a dose of Roy Orbison added to the mix. Touches of teary pedal-steel (courtesy of Lewis associate "Farmer" Dave Scher) connect the dots across Momofuku, adding a bit of musical continuity to the eclecticism.

Just within the opener alone, "No Hiding Place," Costello flips through nearly every page in his hefty songbook. Lewis, Rice and company lend their vocals here and through most of the album, rounding out the collaborative feeling. The young guns could not feel any more natural rubbing elbows with the old-timers, especially when Lewis harmonizes on the chorus of album closer "Go Away," a simple classic of a Costello tune.

Any diehard Costello fan could fantasize endlessly over the possibilities of any continued Lewis collaborations - live duets on "I Want You" or "Indoor Fireworks," anyone? Hopefully they will cross those bridges when they come to them, but for now, the fruitful Momofuku is plenty to be thankful for.

No less impassioned a performer than he was three decades ago, Costello clearly has plenty left to offer. He has inspired punk rockers, barroom crooners, shit-kickers with acoustic guitars and almost everyone else in between. Momofuku is simply one more incredibly enjoyable reason Costello is pop music.

"I'm a limited, primitive kind of man," he sings on the barebones tune "Drum and Bone." Self-effacing humor or not, the statement could not be farther from the truth.

» media.www.diamondbackonline.com

Ever since the brilliant sprint of Elvis Costello's first four or five albums, fans have been pining for the proverbial return to form.

Over the years, there have been plenty of contenders ‹ 2002's When I Was Cruel and 2004's Delivery Man are the most recent ‹ but Costello tends to lose himself in ambitious genre exercises, attempting, with mixed results, to master everything from country to classical.

Momofuku, named either for the inventor of instant noodles or a hip New York City eatery, was cut in a week by Costello, the Imposters (his classic Attractions lineup, less bassist Bruce Thomas) and a cast of young ringers, including Jenny Lewis and Jonathan Rice.

The album is available as a digital download, two-LP set or regular CD. But it's the vinyl format that best suits it's loose, organic feel.

Costello is as tuneful as ever, and whether he's revisiting his rock past (No Hiding Place) or playing the leader of a dark lounge band (Harry Worth), he's relaxed and in his element.

The new songs aren't exactly rock, pop, alt-country or neo-new wave, though they contain elements of those. Even if not as essential as his masterpieces, Momofuku is unmistakably an Elvis Costello record.

If you go Elvis Costello & the Imposters open for the Police at 7:30 p.m.
May 17 at Cruzan Amphitheatre, 601-7 Sansbury's Way, West Palm Beach.Tickets $50-$225; ticketmaster.com.

» www.sun-sentinel.com

Elvis Costello forced his fans into the wayback machine for his latest release.

Over the last two weeks, devotees could only hear the new music by buying it on vinyl - an ancient substance known only to those over 50 or anyone employed as a hip-hop DJ.

Starting today, Costello lets the rest of humanity fast-forward to the modern age. Finally you can download the disk to your heart's content, or even buy it in the moderately old-fashioned form of a CD.

As a Luddite protest - or an attention-getting gimmick - Costello's move shows pluck and resolve. The stunt also has the scope of conceptual art, allowing listeners to ponder the past as they fondle the gaping gatefold package of "Momofuku" and listen to wizened needles scrape through its modern grooves. To ensure the best possible sound - regardless of how stinky the system that we play it on - Costello released the songs on two vinyl slabs, letting the grooves breathe and resonate.

Costello didn't only reference the past in the album's form, but in its content (remember content?). "Momofuku" sounds a lot like an Elvis Costello album from his own vinyl age. A hard-rocking record, the disk could be slipped right between "Get Happy" and "Trust" (circa 1981) and not be out of place.

That's got to be a good thing. Here's an even better one: Costello didn't just try to re-create an older sound. For this project, he gathered a bunch of younger artists (including the wonderful couple Jenny Lewis and Jonathan Rice) to warble along, forming a choir that gives the songs a rich new sheen. Think "Trust" as backed by Fleetwood Mac.

Costello and the gang wrote and recorded these pieces in a flash, which explains why he named the album after the guy who pioneered the fast-food phenom of ramen noodles.

Luckily, the resulting disk doesn't feel tossed off, but fresh. Its brisk tunes, dense lyrics and passionate performances would excite listeners no matter how they hear them.

» www.nydailynews.com

How does Elvis Costello do it? In the past four years alone, pop's reigning renaissance man has released a killer rock album ("The Delivery Man"), an eloquent collaboration with New Orleans R&B legend Allen Toussaint ("The River in Reverse"), and a live recording with a Dutch jazz orchestra ("My Flame Burns Blue").

Today Costello gives us "Momofuku," titled in tribute to the inventor of the Cup Noodle, and this collection goes down as easy and tasty as its namesake's ingenious snack. Costello and the Imposters recorded and mixed the whole project in a week, inspired by a fast, loose session he sang on for Jenny Lewis's forthcoming album. And Lewis returns the favor, supplying harmonies all over "Momofuku," which is frontloaded with the sort of whip-smart, rough-and-tumble pop songs the artist built his name on.

Brimming with hooks and guitars galore, the album - released two weeks ago on vinyl and in stores and online today - flirts with samba ("Harry Worth"), soft-shoe ("Mr. Feathers"), and jazzy blues ("Flutter & Wow"). There's a folksy ballad ("My Three Sons"), a sinuous rocker ("Stella Hurt"), and a petulant, lo-fi closer called "Go Away" that captures Costello at his most uncalculated and appealing. A few tracks sound like demos; "Drum & Bone" is a scrappy wisp. But Costello sings it like an excitable boy who has found a new box of toys.

Elvis Costello opens for the Police at the Tweeter Center July 31.

» www.boston.com

In naming his new album after instant noodle inventor Momofuku Ando, Elvis Costello may be suggesting parallels to the project’s simple recipe and quick completion.

While whimsical and easy to digest, Momofuku is anything but hot-plate dorm grub (though its initially pressing is on old-fashioned platters, vinyl lovers will be thrilled to learn). Costello has crafted a batch of substantial, personal, clever, melodic songs that fit comfortably alongside his most serious work.

Only this isn’t his most serious work. A sense of glee permeates every track, seeping even into the bile and rumination of reflective passages. Costello seems revitalized, brimming with mirth and mischief, in scrappy rockers (the funk-plied Stella Hurt), soulful romantic ballads (Flutter & Wow) and loping singer/songwriter yarns (Song With Rose). He’s not just using his noodle. He’s stirring it up. — Edna Gundersen

Download: Turpentine, Stella Hurt, American Gangster Time, Harry Worth
Consider: Mr. Feathers, No Hiding Place, Drum & Bone

» blogs.usatoday.com

» www.filter-mag.com

» www.latimes.com

In 1988 I had switched to cassettes because they were more portable. Like many other music fans, I now see the error in my ways considering the sound quality of vinyl is superior to that of those flimsy, chewable walkman-cloggers. In 1992 I switched to CDs and never looked back.

Why do I mention all of this? Elvis Costello decided unusually to release his new album “Momofuku” (his 24th proper one at my count) on vinyl only. Before you longtime fans panic and worry about whether your dusty turntable has a needle that’s up to snuff, fear not. For a mere two weeks it is available on vinyl only. A CD version will be released on May 6th. Plus when you buy it on vinyl, you get a code to download a digital version. That code won’t work though until the first of May. Thus, for a nice change of speed, I had to review this album the old fashioned way.

If you will pardon me for a moment, I’d like to say something about the medium itself. I’d forgotten how glorious records truly are. Sure, they are big and clunky, but as I first gazed at the immense “Momofuku” in all its purple-y goodness, I was awe-struck. Suddenly my childhood memories of being virtually glued to my old record player came flooding back. Sure, they are kind of a pain to turn over, but records have a strange sense of nostalgia to them. I remember being excited as a small boy wondering what every label would look like. (Maybe I was a strange kid in that way.)

Anyway, enough reminiscing. You really are here because you want to know how good “Momofuku” is. It’s excellent! One of his best! I don’t say that lightly, either. It’s obvious on first listen that the reason why he decided to set the record off with an initial vinyl-only strategy was because this is a classic-level Elvis Costello record. He surely wanted to remind his listeners of the first time they listened to “My Aim Is True” or “This Year’s Model.” This is not Elvis Costello experimenting with his classical side. It is an old-school Elvis Costello record with occasionally loud guitars, plenty of bile and a bit of punctuating organ here and there. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a full-tilt rock album, because it does have its softer, more reflective moments, but so do the two classics listed above. Costello is a songwriter and he tends to like to write lyrically dense material. Sometimes you need a softer backdrop to tell a story. Like his 2002 masterpiece, “When I Was Cruel” and his 1994 rocker “Brutal Youth,” this album finds Costello in a very familiar comfortable place. All the albums I have just listed each have their own distinct sound, and “Momofuku” continues that line, but the truth is, each one has showcased Costello the rock star. (Albeit, a rock star who can write more literate rock songs than your average seething curmudgeon-y social critic.)

“Momofuku” moves in waves. It shows his stunning range well in that way. Interestingly enough, the progression almost shifts with each record side. The album has 12 tracks spread across 2 records. Thus, there are 4 sides with 3 tracks per side.

Side one shows him at his rocking best. “No Hiding Place” sets the pace well as one of his most melodic rockers, delivered sweetly one moment while telling someone off the next. Such moodiness is summed up well within the first few lines. “In the not very distant future / When everything will be free / There won’t be any cute secrets / Or any novelty.” His tone is accusatory, telling his subject at one point “Whatever I said about you, I couldn’t say it behind your back.” The angry man is back and he’s just as sharp as ever. Thankfully, he hasn’t aged that much either. It helps that the band is as tight as they’ve always been. After all, his current band, the Imposters are really just the Attractions minus bassist Bruce Thomas. In his place is one-time Cracker bassist Davey Faragher. With drummer Pete Thomas pounding away and keyboardist Steve Nieve playing his Wurlitzer, it’s almost like old-times.

“American Gangster Time” begins a punked-up romp through Clubland 2008. It starts with his subject casing a woman offering him pills. His descriptions are somewhat acerbic and coated in unforgiving detail. He’s an observer but he obviously isn’t too keen on where he is. All at once, the lyrical tone recalls both “(I Don’t Want To Go To) Chelsea” and “This Year’s Girl.” Again as the guitars get louder, his ace melody remains indelible. The chorus is full of good old-“Radio Radio” organ pep. The subject changes throughout the track, but the refrain of “I’d rather go blind for speaking my mind,” proves to be his credo. Thankfully, he has never had a problem on that front.

“Turpentine” continues the rock-show. It goes back and forth from skim-worthy sonic murk to a grade-A, rousing chorus. In fact, the chorus gives the track one of the most memorable melodies on the record. Then it devolves wonderfully into a loud basher. It’s as if Costello built up something beautiful just so he could gleefully destroy it. Such a progression is strongly executed.

Like many others on this record, “Turpentine” features Rilo Kiley front-woman Jenny Lewis on harmony vocals and singer-songwriter Johnathan Rice playing with the band. According to “Billboard,” this album stemmed from Costello’s work with Lewis and Rice on Lewis’ upcoming solo album. Costello is a giant who has never been afraid to work with other people. He has great taste in collaborators, thus it is no doubt an honor. I’m reminded of his great work a decade or so back with Aimee Mann. He only tends to work with the best, and on Rilo Kiley’s last album “Under the Blacklight,” Lewis proved herself worthy. It’ll be interesting to see what their collaboration brings.

Now it is time to take a breather and turn the record over. People used to have to do this all the time before 15,000 song ipods! As I get up from my chair, I momentarily find that little factual nugget staggering!

Side two offers the first monumental change. “Harry Worth” does not rock. Rather, it is a sort of slow-ish samba, tropicalia-infused number with wonderfully cheesy organ work. It’s the kind of track you can imagine an old couple dancing to in a bright-yellow motel room. Maybe the reason I picture a couple is because that’s exactly who the song is about. It begins “I met them first on their wedding night.” It describes this couple’s married life, with a knowing sense of impending darkness. (“Do you hear that noise? Well that once was our song!”) It makes pretty clear that this couple is doomed. In lesser hands, the song could have come off schmaltzy, but Costello gives it an appropriate amount of venom, thus counter-acting the pitch-perfect old-school back-up chorus of vocalists. It’s a stunner with all its kitschiness intact.

“Drum & Bone” plays like a softer sequel to Costello’s hit “Monkey to Man” from his 2004 album “The Delivery Man,” even down to its rockabilly tone and references to human evolution. It worked well the first time and it works well here again.

When I first read the title “Flutter & Wow,” I thought of Stereolab’s song “Wow & Flutter,” but the two are of course very different. Costello’s “Flutter & Wow” is a majestic attempt at a classic soul love ballad. It’s the kind of thing Otis Redding excelled in. Costello scores quite well. He constantly challenges himself and comes out on top. Showing his often scarce sweet and romantic side, he delivers yet another winner.

Time to switch records and begin what is effectively the third side.

“Stella Hurt” is a full-blown rock song, which initially sounds like a revved-up answer to Hendrix’s “Foxey Lady,” and then becomes a rhythmic dance number. No wonder it is so funky, the song features drum-work from both Pete Thomas and his daughter Tennessee Thomas who drums in the buzz-worthy band the Like. Within the first few lines Costello is at his word-find best mentioning everything from “red galoshes” to “gutters full of suicides.” By the end of the track, it becomes an interesting, angry sounding noise experiment, until very abruptly, it ends with little advance notice. As always, such volatility is welcome.

Next is “Mr. Feathers.” The change is tone is remarkable from one track to the next. “Stella Hurt” is like a bunch of kids loose in the garage whereas “Mr. Feathers” is the kind of old, tin-pan alley-style number the Beatles would have maybe put on “The White Album.”

“My Three Sons” is not a saxophone number. Odds are if it were to have a music video, it wouldn’t merely consist of animated toe-tapping. Instead, it is a first rate, reflective country-tinged ballad. Within one side, Costello has taken the playbook and thrown out any sort of formula. This is the exact reason he still, rather consistently continues to make quality work.

Time to turn the record over again for the forth and last side.

“Song With Rose” borders on alt-country but stays mostly in the mid-tempo singer-songwriter mold. If this were the mid-eighties, this might have been some sort of over-produced pop number on “Punch the Clock.” Thankfully, Costello’s current taste in instrumentation is much more natural, earthy and timeless, thus the song is left alone and delivered in an unfussy way. Stylistically this is the closest the album gets towards the softer side of Rilo Kiley.

Next is “Pardon Me, Madam, My Name is Eve,” a standout track depicting Eve about to throw-down on a woman trying to steal Adam away from her. It’s somehow both mildly comical and sad at the same time. It’s heartbreaking when Eve realizes she’s probably being pushed away. “In another time of life, when I was his only wife./ When I was his only bride. / Before I was torn out from his side.”

On his first three albums, Costello always went out with a hit single. “My Aim Is True” closed with “Watching the Detectives.” “This Year’s Model” closed with “Radio Radio.” “Armed Forces” closed with “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding?” (That last one may have been last because it was tacked on, considering that the track was originally credited to “Nick Lowe and his Sound” and wasn’t originally supposed to be on the album.) On “Momofuku,” Costello continues this line of single-worthy closers, with “Go Away.” The track fades in and is built around an organ line delivered by “Farmer” Dave Scher. It sounds like the kind of soulful organ exercise one would come up with after listening to a lot of Booker T. & the M.G.s. Here, Costello and Jenny Lewis sing together a perfect upbeat kiss-off. (“Go away! Go Away! Why don’t you go Away? Why don’t you come back, baby? Why don’t you go away?”) It would’ve been a fun Blues Brothers number. Leaving on such an upbeat high note leaves you wanting more, almost guaranteeing immediate repeat listens.

In closing, there isn’t a weak track on “Momofuku.” It’s Elvis Costello completely in his element. It’s a clear five star example of a legend adding to his stack of classics. Here’s someone who has worked for the past 31 years with no large, significant breaks, honing his craft, creating a diverse catalogue for the ages. “Momofuku” is a worthy addition to any Elvis Costello fan’s collection.

Oh, and my guess is that you are probably wondering about the name. In a Billboard interview posted just yesterday on their site, he claims that the album is named after Momofuku Ando, who invented the first cup noodle. He states the album happened very easily, saying, “All we had to do to make this record was add water.” That quote is strikingly cornball for someone who usually is so cerebral. One could also take it with a sort of bitingly snotty, almost patronizing edge, but the truth is, Costello and his band make this album seem so wonderfully effortless, that somehow you don’t doubt him in the least, no matter what absurd thing he tells the press.

The return to vinyl makes for a surprisingly improved experience. Perhaps Costello’s trying to make a statement in a download-obsessed world. The physical product is getting to be almost a forgotten joy. We must not lose it! Perhaps there’s an off-chance he’s also trying to make it easier for some forward-thinking hip-hop producer like Danger Mouse to merge his song “American Gangster Time” with some unused Jay-Z verses. (If that were to actually happen, that would be pretty funny!.)

I’m glad that in a week I can download the album in digital form. I’m also glad that in two weeks it hits CD racks. By then, I’ll probably have begun to wear out my vinyl copy. It’s that good!

» blogs.abcnews.com

» www.stltoday.com

» nymag.com

» www.billboard.com

First released 30 years ago in March of 1978, This Year's Model was the second album by Elvis Costello and his first with The Attractions. It was primarily recoded at the Eden Studios in West London between late 1977 and early 1978. The original album ran at just over 35 minutes and became one of the best albums of all time; in 2003 Rolling Stone magazine ranked it number 98 of the 500 greatest albums of all time.

Elvis Costello, born Declan Patrick MacManus, and taking his moniker from Elvis Presley and his great grandmother's name, signed with Stiff Records and in 1977 released a solo album My Aim Is True, which had some success with the song "Alison," and even more with "Watching the Detectives."

Now comes This Year's Model: Deluxe Edition. With this, the Hip-O/UMe version being the third reissue in the past 15 years, the question is: Does this reissue bring anything new to the table? This is a two disk set that, in my opinion, was done right.

First you have the original tracks from the studio album set in its entirety as it was meant to be heard. Next you have additional B-sides and alternate versions including three demo versions that are just Costello with a guitar and no band so it sounds like he originally played it.

Then disk two is a concert from live at the Warner Theater in Washington DC from February 28, 1978. Keep in mind that this album was released in March of 1978. So these are songs that are fresh and new and haven't had much play. Out of the 17 tracks on the live CD, only one, "Chemistry Class", has ever been released before. So, unlike prior reissues, there is some new material here. This was taped on the Starfleet mobile studio and originally broadcast on WHFS in Maryland.

The original album is as fresh today as it was 30 years ago. You have the poster boy for the punk rock movement with his snarly tongue, biting off the heads of the establishment, and delivering the kind of harsh one liners that haven't been heard since Dylan; and all this at a snowball's pace in an avalanche. The album was produced by rocker Nick Lowe.

The B-sides have been released before in other collections, and still retain the same quality of sound as the main release. The live CD brings the feeling of the show to the music — more energized and vibrant. As I said, this concert took place before the actual release of the album and so it has that feeling of something new. You can hear it in the crowd and you can hear it in the band.

The question then becomes should you get This Years Model: Deluxe Edition? Certainly if you are an Elvis Costello fan and collect everything, of course. If you don't have any of the reissues, definitely it is a must buy. If you have one of the prior releases, it then becomes a matter of taste and budget. Personally, I think that the addition of the Warner concert makes it worth while and so I eagerly recommend this album.

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» www.glidemagazine.com

» www.pitchforkmedia.com

The original album has now been tricked out to a two-disc Deluxe Edition set, and the 11 lean original tracks have been bulked up to include an additional 11 B-sides and 17 live tracks. That’s a bounty of vintage Costello, and at slightly more than two and a half hours, it offers as complete a view of the Angry Young Man, circa 1978, as you could possibly want.

The original This Year’s Model, included here on the first half of Disc 1, is brilliant, a snarky and raging slab of intemperate rock 'n' roll, and it sounds as fresh and vital today as it did 30 years ago. Nobody had delivered caustic one-liners like this since Dylan, and, with the debut of The Attractions, Costello had found the manic band to propel his claustrophobic, paranoid screeds. “I don’t want to kiss you/ I don’t want to touch,” he almost whispers at the start of the album, and when The Attractions detonate in all their ragged glory behind him we’re already miles removed from the polite country rock of Clover, Costello’s backing band on his 1977 debut My Aim Is True.

It’s the moment when New Wave found its frontman. And it lurches along that way for 35 minutes, barely in control, the irresistible propulsion of Steve Nieve’s careening keyboards matched by Costello’s acerbic wit. If the Angry Young Man isn’t angry about everything, his vision is still broad enough to draw within his crosshairs the advertising industry, “It” girls, fascism, George Orwell, radio narrowcasting and his own withering self. “Sometimes I almost feel just like a human being,” he snarls, and alienation never sounded so bracing. It’s a wonderful record.

The B-sides have been released in various configurations over the years, but there isn’t much of a drop off in quality between “(I Don’t Want To Go To) Chelsea” and “Big Tears” and the official album tracks. In 1978, Costello was writing great songs at a furious pace, and the brilliance is marred only by a couple of unnecessary demos that would appear as finished songs on Costello’s next album, Armed Forces. The live disc, taken from a Feb. 1978 show at Washington D.C.’s Warner Theater, is good, but not as good as the widely available El Macombo show from the same period.

And therein lies the dilemma. Longtime Costello fans, the target audience for these reissue projects, probably already own most of this music. But curious newcomers, who typically won’t shell out for a 2-disc set, could hardly do better. Elvis Costello has produced a lot of great music over a lot of different years, but the 1978 model was a particularly spectacular one.

» www.pastemagazine.com

Guess he changed his mind. In fact, the old git cranks out expanded editions of his early work as fast as he releases new music. That's fine — everyone should have a copy of This Year's Model, especially if you're a prematurely embittered teen romantic or would like to become one. "No Action," "Hand in Hand," "Lip Service" — these are some of the snarliest love-is-hell songs ever written.

The pain in these songs is as clearly visible as the wedding ring Costello wears on the album cover. He might play the jaded rake in "(I Don't Want to Go to) Chelsea," but these are the plaints of a kid who fell too hard too fast, who took romantic promises way too seriously and believed more fiercely as he kept getting burned. The music is surprisingly lush and pretty — the watery acoustic guitar of "Lip Service," the high harmonies in the chorus of "No Action." Yet it's all punk rage, thanks to Pete Thomas' drums and Steve Nieve's cranky organ. (Funny how the most popular song, "Pump It Up," is the one where the vocal is a blur and the drum hook takes the spotlight.)

This year's model of This Year's Model has basically the same bonus tracks as the last reissue. The only new bait is on Disc Two, a rowdy February 1978 live show from Washington, D.C. With rants against the media ("Radio Radio"), the church ("The Beat") and the right wing ("Night Rally"), This Year's Model is the angriest album Costello ever made, yet the songs remain brutally funny, sung with moments of unexpected tenderness ("I told you that we were just good frieeeends," he sings on "No Action") that taught a host of tortured-Irish-guy vocal tropes to the Hold Steady and LCD Soundsystem — and those moments make the album unforgettable.

» www.rollingstone.com

Elvis Costello's 1978 sophomore album "This Year's Model" remains one of the best recordings by anyone from the "New Wave" era, a scintillating, urgent and explosive blast of raw energy, anger and torment, wrapped up into songs like "The Beat," "Pump Up," "(I Don't Want To Go To) Chelsea," "Lipstick Vogue" and "Radio, Radio."

Produced by Nick Lowe, the songs sound just as good 30 years later and this deluxe double CD features an additional 10 rarities, demos and alternate takes, as well as a second scorcher of a CD culled from Costello and the Attractions' fevered performance on Feb. 28, 1978 at the Warner Theater in Washington, D.C.

That live set is worth owning all on its own. Recorded one night before an infamous concert during which Costello left the stage in shambles after a raucous outing at the University of Massachusetts, this Washington show finds Costello very much in his "angry young man" mode. Originally broadcast on radio station WHFS in Maryland, it finds the songwriter and the Attractions buzzing through 17 songs, most from "This Year's Model," but also with several from its predecessor "My Aim is True," including "Watching the Detectives" and "(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes."

» music.ign.com

DELUXE EDITION OF ELVIS COSTELLO’S LANDMARK ‘70S ALBUM
THIS YEAR’S MODEL PUMPS IT UP WITH SECOND DISC FEATURING
PREVIOUSLY UNRELEASED CONCERT

Elvis Costello’s sophomore release, his first album with the Attractions, This Year’s Model was voted Album of the Year in 1978 in The Village Voice Jazz & Pop critics poll, was ranked #11 on Rolling Stone’s list of the best albums of 1967-1987, and in 2003 was in the Top 100 of Rolling Stone’s “500 Greatest Albums of All Time.” Led by the anthemic “Pump It Up,” This Year’s Model, celebrating its 30^th anniversary this year, remains one of the most important albums of the punk/new wave era.

The two-CD This Year’s Model – Deluxe Edition (Hip-O/UM^e), released March 4, 2008, adds 11 b-sides, demos, live tracks, and alternate takes to the original album plus a second disc comprised of a previously unreleased concert recorded at the Warner Theater in Washington, DC, on February 28, 1978. Taped on the Starfleet mobile studio, this show was originally broadcast on WHFS in Maryland and only “Chemistry Class” has ever been issued before. Along with performances of several songs from This Year’s Model, including “Pump It Up,” “Radio, Radio,” “The Beat” and “No Action,” this concert also features such Costello favorites as “Watching The Detectives,” “(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes,” “Less Than Zero” and “Waiting For The End Of The World.”

This Year’s Model, produced by Nick Lowe, was harder and rawer than Costello’s debut album, 1977’s My Aim Is True, partly thanks to the singer-songwriter-guitarist’s newly recruited band of keyboardist Steve Nieve, bassist Bruce Thomas and drummer Pete Thomas (no relation). The album outcharted its predecessor by reaching #30 in the U.S. and #4 U.K. This Year’s Model – Deluxe Edition includes the U.K. album-only album tracks “(I Don’t Want To Go To) Chelsea” and “Night Rally” plus the U.S. album-only “Radio, Radio.”

The added selections, subsequently issued in a 2001 two-CD package, include the b-sides “Big Tears” and “Tiny Steps”; Americathon soundtrack contribution “Crawling To The USA”; demos for “Running Out Of Angels,” “Greenshirt” and “Big Boys”; live “Neat Neat Neat” and “Roadette Song”; and alternate takes of “This Year’s Girl” and “(I Don’t Want To Go To) Chelsea.”

Following This Year’s Model, Costello would crack the Top 10 in America and become a major pop culture figure. He would go on to spread his musical wings by delving into everything from country to sophisticated pop, classical to jazz, and collaborating with everyone from Paul McCartney, Burt Bacharach and Diana Krall to, most recently, R&B great Allen Toussaint. In 2004, Rolling Stone ranked him among its “100 Greatest Artists of All Time.”

Elvis Costello has proved that he was not just this year’s model.

Elvis Costello’s sophomore release, his first album with the Attractions, This Year’s Model was voted Album of the Year in 1978 in The Village Voice Jazz & Pop critics poll, was ranked #11 on Rolling Stone’s list of the best albums of 1967-1987, and in 2003 was in the Top 100 of Rolling Stone’s “500 Greatest Albums of All Time.” Led by the anthemic “Pump It Up,” This Year’s Model, celebrating its 30^th anniversary this year, remains one of the most important albums of the punk/new wave era.

The two-CD This Year’s Model – Deluxe Edition (Hip-O/UM^e), released March 4, 2008, adds 11 b-sides, demos, live tracks, and alternate takes to the original album plus a second disc comprised of a previously unreleased concert recorded at the Warner Theater in Washington, DC, on February 28, 1978. Taped on the Starfleet mobile studio, this show was originally broadcast on WHFS in Maryland and only “Chemistry Class” has ever been issued before. Along with performances of several songs from This Year’s Model, including “Pump It Up,” “Radio, Radio,” “The Beat” and “No Action,” this concert also features such Costello favorites as “Watching The Detectives,” “(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes,” “Less Than Zero” and “Waiting For The End Of The World.”