All this talk about Elvis Costello, SNL and “Radio Radio” got me searching for the relevant clips, which, in this glorious era of instant YouTube gratification, I found quite handily. Watching them was a revelatory experience — in that they very precisely revealed what went wrong with Elvis Costello in the last 25 years. In the first clip, we see a desperate, angry young man singing a desperately angry song about the desperate state of the music industry and just how angry it makes him.

In the second, Elvis is a smug, self-referen/reverential turd in designer eyewear who clearly has lost every bit of the plot, thinking that just being on stage with a bunch of occasionally angry young men makes him, somehow, by extension, angry as well. Pshaw.

But check out the two clips for yourself, and tell us what *you* think.

I look forward to your responses.

HVB

Sometimes I have it up to here with “heavy” love songs, you know, those I’ll rip my heart out and stomp it into the floorboards for you, baby types. I like the feeling of being in love as much as the next guy, but love shouldn’t be a burden and love songs shouldn’t be a set up for heartbreak. No, I can’t go for that.

I typically like my love songs light and breezy. I was listening to The Zombies song “I Want Her, She Wants Me”. That’s a sentiment I can get behind. Colin Blunstone is so sweet and innocent. The backing musicians are just as tender. It’s no wonder the girl wants him. He’s a teddy bear in horn-rimmed specs! Dionne Warwick’s “You’ll Never Get to Heaven if You Break My Heart” – there’s another light love song.

I’m no teddy bear – don’t think I’m fooling myself – but if the love song’s not about outright gettin’ it on, then let my love open the door after politely knocking, you know what I mean? With rare exceptions (eg, “Don’t Let Me Down” and other, similar Lennon psychodramas), I have little desire to meditate on how downright emotionally dependent I am on the love of my life. Do you prefer your love songs heavy or light?

Even better than the real thing

Does anyone recall the segment in Geoff Emerick‘s fantastic book, Here, There and Everywhere: My Life Recording the Music of the Beatles, in which he describes his feelings over the recording of “I Am the Walrus”? Emerick details from the time he heard John’s unimpressive (in the engineer’s opinion) demo through the bizarre instructions that seemed to be covering for a less-than-stellar song through the final overdubs and mix. At the final mix, it all home for Emerick and, in his opinion, justified the entire recording process. Well, I can’t imagine a 7-year-old boy hearing “I Am the Walrus” and not having his mind blown, but Emerick’s story could apply to much of this album.

The Beatles, “I Am the Walrus” (German true stereo mix)

Because I came to this song loving it without reservation, the richly textured true stereo mix of “I Am the Walrus” is very easy to love but the degree to which my experience is heightened is nowhere near that of some of the previous cuts. I do love those sawing strings. Who hasn’t dug this period of Beatles recordings and not wanted to jam a mic as close to a bowed instrument as possible?