309 Hello Elvis Costello - Watching The Detectives

Chart  entered  : 5  November  1977

Chart  peak : 15

Number  of  hits : 36  ( including  2  as  "The  Impostor" )

If  Stiff  had  got  their  distribution  act  together  and  adequately  stocked  the  York  branch  of  W.H.  Smith's  over  the  Christmas  period , this  would  have  been  the  first  single  to  feature  here  that  I  actually  bought. It  wasn't  in  stock  on  30.12.77  so  I  made  do  with  Jonathan  Richman's  Egyptian  Reggae  instead.

It's  an  inescapable  part  of  pop  that  most  artists  end  up  disappointing  you  whether  there's  a  sudden  unwelcome  change  of  direction  ( e.g. Spandau  Ballet, Paul  Weller )  or  just  a  moment  when  you  realise  that  you  don't  need  another  of  their  LPs  ( Erasure ). In  my  case  I  don't  think  there's  any  other  artist  where  it's  harder  to  recall  my  initial  enthusiasm  than  Elvis  Costello . He dropped  nearly  everything  that  appealed  to  me  and  now I  see  him  as completely  redundant, his  latest  "unlikely  collaboration" one  of  the  most  predictable  events  in  the  pop  calendar.

EC  was  born  Declan  Patrick  McManus  in  London  in  1954  to  Scouse  Irish  parents.  His  father  Ross  was  a  noted  bandleader  and  trumpeter  who'd  cut  a  few  singles  himself, the  last  under  the  pseudonym  Day  Costello  in  1970,  but  whose  most  lasting  recorded  work  was  the  "Secret  Lemonade  Drinker"  jingle  for  R  White's  in  the  mid-seventies. Declan  moved  with  his  mother  to  Birkenhead  in  1971. He  returned  to  London  after  finishing  school  and  played  the  pub  scene  with  a  band  called  Flip  City   (  his  stage  name  was  D.P. Costello  )  for  a  couple  of  years  before  returning  to  Bootle  to  work  as  a  computer  operator  for  Midland  Bank. He  sent  out  demo  tapes  and  was  picked  up  by  Stiff's  Jake  Riviera  who  suggested  he  purloin  his  first  name  from  the  not-yet-dead  Mr  Presley  to  grab  attention. They  initially  wanted  him  to  write  songs  for  Dave  Edmunds  but  the  demoes  he  recorded  with  musicians  from  the  second  rate U.S. country  rock   outfit  Clover  who  were  in  town  were  deemed  good  enough  for  release.

His  debut  single  was  "Less  Than  Zero"  released  in  March  1977. It  was  inspired  by  a  recent  TV  interview  with  the  veteran  fascist  leader  Sir  Oswald  Mosley  where  he  tried  to  smooth  over  his  history  of  anti-semitism  detailed  in  a  recent  book  about  his  sister-in-law  Unity  Mitford. The  song  seems  to  be  a  "come  and  sue  me"  challenge  to  Mosley,  equating  his  political  passion  with  sexual  deviancy. Radio  unsurprisingly  avoided  it,  aided  in  their  decision   by  the  jagged  bumpiness  of  the  music  with  its  overlong  pauses. It  did  get  him  some  column  inches  in  a  year  not  short  of  pop  controversies.      

His  follow up  single   in  May  1977   was  "Alison", one  of  the  best-known  non-hits  of  the  decade. Though  Linda  Ronstadt  interpreted  it  as  a  straight  ballad , it's  nothing  of  the  sort.  A  spurned  lover  sees  his  ex   trapped  in  an  unhappy  marriage  and  pretends  to  offer  sympathy  but  really  just  pours  salt  in  the  wound. It's  a  great  tune  but  somewhat  let  down  by  the  guitar  playing  of  John  McFee  whose  woozy  little  riffs  don't  match  the  intensity  of  words  and  vocal.

In  July  his  debut  album  "My  Aim  Is  True" was  released  and  Elvis  was  persuaded  to  jack  in  his  day  job  with  Stiff  promising  to  make  up  his  lost  wages. I  know  some  herald  it  as  a  classic; I  feel  it  falls  a  bit  short  of  that  with  too  much  genre-hopping  and  a  general  airlessness  in  Nick  Lowe's  budget  production  but  certainly  it  heralded  a  new  voice  in  pop. Several  of  the  songs  are  told  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  scowling  vengeful  nerd  suggested  by  Elvis's  appearance  on  the  cover  with  a  side  salad  of  self-loathing  as  in  the  Dr  Feelgood -influenced  tale  of  sexual  incompetence  "Mystery  Dance". There's  evidence  of  pop  nous  in  the  sprightly  "Red  Shoes"  which  was  duly  released  as  his  third  single  a  week  later. Although  it  didn't  break  his  singles  chart  duck  the  album  got  to  number  14  helped  by  some  extra  publicity  when  Elvis  got  himself  arrested  for  a  one-man  protest  outside  the  London  offices  of  CBS  , the  cause  being  a  delay  in  getting  an  American  distribution  deal.

"Watching  The  Detectives"  was  recorded  in  May  1977  with  the  rhythm  section   from  The  Rumour. Steve Nieve  overdubbed  some  keyboards  at  a  later  session. By  the  time  it  was  chosen  as  the  next  single  Elvis  had  formed  his  own  band  including  Nieve  who  played  and  were  credited  as  artists  on  the  live  tracks  on  the  B-side  but  you'll  have  to wait  a  few  posts  before  we  consider  them.

It's  a  wonderful  complex  song,  again  told  from  the  point  of  view  of  someone  who's  so  sexually  inadequate  his  girlfriend  prefers to  watch  cop  shows  ( or  50s  detective movies )  to  getting  it  on. Elvis  miserably  runs  through  the  tropes  before  his  desperate  pass  ends  the  liaison- "It  only  took  my  little  fingers  to blow  you  away". The  song  uses  a  hypnotic  reggae  rhythm  to  carry  the  knife-edge  tension  in  the  song  and  Elvis  manages  to  find  enough  space  for  all  his  clever  lines  , each  one  of  which  is  eminently  quotable.  It's  one  of  his  better  vocal  performances  as  well  , capturing  the  narrator's  desperation  without  resorting  to  his  trademark  sneer.

I'd  never  heard  of  him  before  Noel  Edmunds  introduced  him  on  Top  of  the  Pops  and  it  seemed  thrillingly  sacrilegious  to  pair  the  name  of  the  lately  dead  King  of  Rock  with  that  of  a  chubby  comedian. Then  there  was  his  appearance. I  don't  think  I  knew  what  Buddy  Holly  had  looked  like  at  the  time  so  Elvis  looked  startlingly  out  of  place  to  begin  with  then  there  was  the  Ron  Mael  malevolence  of  his  glare  to  camera  and  the  angry vein-popping  delivery  of  the  sinister  song. I  was  hooked  immediately ; it's  a  pity  I  couldn't  actually  buy  it  when  the  opportunity  arose.