Chaperoned in the back of a hire car, taking in the sights, partaking in entertaining chit-chat about the industry with fellow passengers, I shouldn't feel this damned uneasy. But impending duties weigh heavy and a sizeable part of me is getting more and more dispirited about the deal I've gotten into.

The brief was simple enough: an interview with Costello was all that was required by the firm, the only problem being the subject had spent the past year making it plain to the world's press that he didn't wish to converse whatsoever, to the point where recourse to physical violence had not been uncommon as a final solution in nailing the point home. Manager Jake Riviera once defined a potent side of the Costello personality when he pinpointed that line from The Talking Heads' "Psycho Killer"—"Say something once, why say it again"—as being his protegexs essential credo. Thus, when the obstreperous, over-zealous Jimmy Olsens of this world have found their way backstage at an E.C. gig and ignored that first denial for a quick quote from the star, the outcome has turned distinctly ugly, with fists flying and subsequent reportage of the contretemps making for depressing reading.

Speaking to Riviera on the phone a couple of days before this drive up to snowbound Sheffield, he was amenably adamant about the no-go interview situation: "We've finally reached the stage where they've all got the message and nobody bothers us for interviews."

Nick Kent, a writer for New Musical Express in England, has appeared so many times in these pages we shouldn't have to introduce him. So we won't.

Approximately a year before, however, Costello did break his silence to give me an interview just as This Year's Model hit the stores—the only interview he consented to in *'78 despite apparently unrelenting pressure from record companies and the like. (Without going into details that have as much to do with coincidence as anything flattering in reality, Costello deemed yours truly the only journalist worthy of his trust and consequent occasional documenting of his intentions and so forth after our first interview in the summer of'76.)

At first it seemed straightforward; just latch onto the Costello UK tour at some likely whistle-stop, infiltrate the camp and having once lucked out on some sympathetic little scenario whereiq El and I would be alone, coax the prized confessional and return triumphant to headquarters. Hit, git and split, the name of the game is professional journalism and it was my turn to play it like the big boys.

All of &hich brings you back to the scene with the professional journalist in the hire car pondering the assignment at hand, at once looking forward to the task and yet feeling oddly depressed.

'The official deal on the Riviera-, Global (Costello's management) end was uncomfortably double edged. I could talk to Costello, sure, but there would be no official interview.

Personally, I saw no reason why Costello should do an interview anyway. In the motor whilst idly perusing one of the music rags, I'd come across the quote "silence makes legends", which in its given context (manager Peter Grant's jive explanation for Bad Company's slug-like dormancy this past year or so) was laughable, but in regard to Costello made perfect sense.

two days go by without an Idea for a song I become obsessive about writing. mm ■

In a purely objective light the fact that Elvis is a loquacious and intriguing subject seems secondary to the contention that it's an art in itself to remain inscrutably silent in the face of continual media harassment and that those who have successfully kept mute—the Dylans and De Niros—usually just coincidentally happen to be the mightiest talents in their particular line of work.

Take a rain check on Elvis Costello's current state-.of grace on the rock front—and let's dispense with the unneccessary superlatives—and one is near blinded by the fact that here is a man playing fbr "big stakes", I mean, let's ignore his popularity in Blighty a moment and note that Costellq is the first New Wave artiste (along with Talking Heads who skipped lightly over the lower echelons of the U.S. Top 30 with their second release) to make an appreciable dent on the ultra-reactionary American market. All the rest of the New Wave's diverse, constituents haven't done more than tickle the soft white underbelly of the great hulking beast.

Unsettling, irritating he may be to the smug Yank megabuck big boys, but in '78 they all learnt it's better not to underestimate Elvis Costello.

It was the veritable hailstrom of activity surrounding and being perpetuated by Costello and his crew in the last 12 months or so that provided one with the basic bait for this whole affair. No one else is currently working at such an audacious pace. This Year's Model was released at the outset of '78 and left virtually everybody reeling, except for the artist himself who was already putting the final syntax on his next little volume.

From there on out, the sky seemed the limit. Costello and the Attractions, toured all over the world ceaselessly. The 50 states of America were all traversed unrelentingly; in Australia Costello's feisty manner caused a nasty little riot, and finally in Japan, the Attractions scored yet another accolade by being the first New Wave band both to visit the country and play small clubs instead of large halls.

When not doing concerts, the band were in Eden Studios for two weeks, knocking out 17 tracks, 12 of which formed the "next album", tentatively titled Emotional Fascism but finally known to all as Armed Forces (title gratis Attractions drummer Pete Thomas). Another cut—"What's So Funny 'Bout Peace, Love And Understanding"—was cheekily released under the name of the song's composer, one Nick Lowe, as a single late last year. Another, "Tiny Steps", made an impromptu appearance on the B-side of "Radio Radio" and another twa peaches ("Wednesday Week" and "Talking In The Dark") emerged on a collector's only item handed out to the lucky folk who make it to the Dominion gigs over Christmas. Only one song, "Clean Money," remains unreleased in any form whatsoever, going the way of other stray Costello items like "Dr. Luther's Assistant" and "Crawling To The USA" which somehow don't quite cut the final test with their creator.

Meanwhile, '78 also saw Elvis getting chummy with many of his peers and even sdme heroes of yore. The cryptic country waltz—"Stranger In The House"—last sighted on the "Model" freebie 45 was chosen' by Billy Sherrill, producer of country music giant George Jones, as a suitable number for the inclusion on a special "George Jones Duets With His Contemporaries" album. Costello was thus elected to join the likes of Willie Nelson, Dolly Parton and Linda Ronstadt out in hjashville for the sessions, although an elated El never got to meet his hero as Jones, pretty much a ruined man owing to chronic alcoholism, was too sick to make the sessions, appearing later to overdub his vocals to Costello's counterpoint.

And then there was Bob Dylan who'd been introduced to Costello's music by the Alpha Band's (and current Dylan sideman) Steve Soles and, impressed with what he heard, went out of his way to meet this young contender. Costello and Dylan first met in Los Angeles and struck up a friendship that apparently blossomed when the two outfits by chance found themselves touring Europe at the same time (at an Amsterdam gig, the Attractions' backstage list credited "Bob Dylan plus 30"). Dylan, by all accounts a pretty fastidious sort who chose to while away the hours sequestered in his hotel room obsessively Reading his Tarot cards, even fell in love with the relatively outrageous (compared to the dour, timid bunch the Big D was toting around anyway) behavior of the Attractions and seemed an all round decent sort of chap.

As did one Bruce Springsteen, another burgeoning E.C. fan who came backstage to acquaint himself and to find out, apparently, howJElvis got the sound on his Aim album. A remarkably mild-mannered sort, he only got visibly upset when addressing the subject of Patti Smith's "Because The Night", apparently procured by Easter producer and the Jerseyites' old engineer Jimmy Iovine in a decidedly dodgy fashion.

1 Even Linda Roristadt, undeterred by Elvis' documented broadsides against her in the past, made overtures about having a tentative tete b tete with the man behind the horn rims. Costello may yet condescend to the encounter if only because Ronstadt's pathetic misreading of "Alison", more thah any other endeavour, has lined his wallet with an unexpected royalty check of at least some $60,000. However, it would be wise for her not to hold her breath ... '

particularly don't like some of the things that have been printed about my personal life.

All this flashy folderol is only one side "of the overall picture, however. Over these past' 12 months, whilst manager Riviera and bassist Bruce Thomas both chose to wed their respective ladies, Costello's marriage collapsed in circumstances that are obviously nobody else's business. In what many viewed as a particularly bizarre move, Costello left his house in Whitton to move into a flat in Kensington with Bebe Buell, one time Playboy pin-up, well known model and former girlfriend of such as Todd Rundgren and most recently, until her meeting With Costello, Rod Stewart. As the year ended harried lawyers were seen attempting to track down Costello in order to serve divorce papers. A particularly touchy situation as it stands, the affair has made Elvis even more determinedly guarded about his privacy than ever.

Meanwhile amid this personal strife, Costello, his band and manager Riviera have to face up to easily the heaviest professional maneuver of their career. Having viewed Costello as very much in the Springsteen mold of burgeoning megastar, U.S. Columbia are determined to go all out on their third shot in much the same way as they did with Born To Run. Riviera knows the score exactly. "We either make it all the way with Armed Forces or we don't. If this album doesn't break in America, then Columbia will still keep us but we'll be considered pretty much a spent forte."

It's this sort of pressure that's caiised Riviera. once again to hassle with Columbia bigwigs over the actual track listing on the new album, having to concede to the deletion of "Sunday!s Best"—with "Peace, Love And Understanding" slotted in its place as the necessary "obvious choice for single" airplay.

As far as prior Stateside form goes, it's intriguing to note that This Year's Model didn't sell as well as My Aim Is True (Aim by the way holds the record for being the all-time biggest selling "import" of this decade) due mostly to th'C lack of that one track that radio stations can pick up on en masse to use to push the album.

In Britain, after arduous doublechecking, the choice for the new single has settled on "Oliver's Army", although "Forces" has at least four other tracks with equally nagging hook-lines and all round high-grade commercial potential. In its owh intimate way Armed Force? is Costello's most fervent declaration of intention yet for the title of great 70's pop subversive. The old parallels with Van Morrison; Graham Parker, etc., now seem doubly redundant—the only comparisons even worth making are with the Beatles (the quote from Abbey Road is no mere, coincidence) and Bowie (again that "Rebel Rebel" coda on "Two Litfle Hitlers" replete with is stylistic nod to "TVC15" in the vocal inflexions) and they scarcely scratch the surface.

In the current set that Costello and the Attractions are playing around Britain, amid the invigorating versions of "Fprces" material and stalwarts like "Chelsea," "Detectives" and Radio Radio", Costello plays a new song entitled "I Stand Accused" (a vintage B-side tb a Merseybeats' single) which in many ways eclipses the rest of the set simply because it reminds one again just how exceptional this band is.

There was a definite apprehension, a certain fear that the horrendous touring workload of the past year and all the things that go with it might well have deadened much of the spontaneity of the original band at its audacious best. It was a fear confirmed to some extent at the gigs played at the Dominion last Christmas. Where once Costellp and his band maintained a constantly inspired attitude, not merely playing the acknowledged classics impeccably but always willing to4ake a chance, to throw in new songs, new arrangements, new lyrics, etc., they suddenly seemed stilted, tired, more professional but uninspired.

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CONTINUED FROM PAGE 42

Tonight in Sheffield though, Costello and the Attractions are magnificent and the impromptu rendition of this exquisite piece of beat group fluff marked the real return of the prodigal for me. / After that, "Chelsea," "Lipstick Vogue" and'"Red Shoes" sounded sparkling. Only "Pump It Up" and "You Belong To Me" seemed lack-luster, just "going through the motions." And thereby hangs an irony, as *'Pump It Up", was composed as a direct result of Costello's last package tour, when he was the young blood battling it out on the Stiffs' live tour alongside IanDury, Nick Lowe and Wreckless Eric.

" 'Pump It Up' was actually the last song I wrote for the Model album and it was conceived very much as a reaction to that tour.

"My feelings about that tour . . . well, it was fun because as far as I was concerned it was principally down to pushing Ian's album. Like every night the encore would be 'Sex And Drugs', right, and Ian knows there's more to it than that, obviously, but it quickly reaches a point where the tour started to take on the manifestations of the song. And like it was getting so ugly I was compelled to write 'Pump It Up' as, ,you know, well just-how much,can you fuck, how many drugs can you »do before you get so numb you can't really feel anything? ' -

"The Stiff tour was a failure as far as I was concerned. It failed initially because Ian's album didn't immediately take off anyway. On the other hand there was plenty of human chemistry but lots of it was just down to basiic negativity. In the last two weeks it can really start to show on certain people's faces.

"It was no great trial for me as such though I did go strange towards the end. I'd like blank out and just see red. It's hard to explain."

The matter of personal compatability on tour was one topic dear to Costello's heart after the Sheffield gig, when he continued to adhere to the party line of no one-to-one interview. In an attempt to compromise the situation, I first of all. suggested providing him with a list of several questions to which he could compose a written reply. No, he didn't like that idea much either. He became candid.

"It's not a personal thing against you at all but I honestly don't want to deal with New Musical Express: I think the paper has become cheap and offensive. It's like Rolling Stone used to be a good paper but it blew it, lost its perspective. I don't like the NME muth anymore and I particularly don't like some of the things that have been printed about my personal life."

Finally I play my last card, which is simply to get the three tour participants —Costello, Richard Hell, and John Cooper Clarke—together and start up what hopefully will become a reasonable dialogue, first about the tour and then on to . . . wfell, virtually anything. This idea Costello finds surprisingly agreeable and the three duly assemble in the hotel lounge. A preliminary question about the tenuous relationship between the three in terms of each other's notoriety is immediately scuppered by Hell who unfortunately plumps for the easy option: cynicism. Our four-sided discussion begins tp turn into a three-against-one, with the question master on the losing side.

It's quickly becoming a pointless escapade.

Three or four false/Starts later and Hell abruptly leaves the room. This particular shot at human chemistry isn't sparking. I'm forced to shoot trivialities like asking Costello whether he swiped the "reader's wives" reference in "Sunday's Best" from Clarke's opus of the same natpe.

"No, that's weird actually. I wrote that before I'd even heard of John but . .

"But we read the same magazines,; chips in Clarke with characteristic good humor. Suddenly Clarke disappears, leaving me with Costello—still amenable to talking. Time to aim for the pressing issues. An opening salvo on Armed Forces §eems appropriate enough. Like, why has Costello relented from calling the album by its initially intended moniker of Emotional Fascism?

"Because it became obvious that it was impossible to get away with it. And also because Armed Forces Seemed actually more appropriate with its double meaning and all. It was Pete's (Thomas) idea actually."

Just as it seems a dialogue has begun, a finger taps on my shoulder and Costello's lackey PR man peers down and informs me it'*s time to split. When I counter that I'm happy to spend the night at the hotel the message has to be spelt out. "It would be, uh, better if you came with us," he lears. I look at Costello who sits there smiling inscrutably and I realize that I've been set up. The whole thing has been a performance, impeccably acted out with Costello the likely instigator. He'll probably get a song out of it.

And that would be that, if it weren't for some revelations on the drive back. Jake Riviera, as always still functioning on enough adrenalin to equip a small field battalion, reveals that Elvis has already composed the whole of his next album while bassist Bruce Thomas reckons the maestro has enough tb fill four new albums.

The main vision^ for the future, however, is that Costello is thinking of breaking into the burgeoning rqck film market. I immediately think of a Don't Look Back type documentary but Riviera is thinking more of a "real rock film like Hard Day's Night or Help " In fact the two clips directed by Chuck Slatter (well known for his prior films with the dread Devo) to accompany "Oliver's Army" and "Peace, Love And Understanding" shamelessly plagiarize/ mimic the latter Beatles epic, with the Attractions miming "Oliver" on a desert island, et al. A script for the full scale Costello flick is already written and waiting, Riviera tells me.

"McLaren's movie will knock the whole rock movie thing back two paces," predicts Riviera firmly. "The one that'll do it with any luck will be the Ramones/Roger Corman effort. I mean, we want to make the film to follow up The Girl Can't Help It. "

Finally one has to express a certain awe at the sheer immensity of Costello's output. Bruce Thomas, who usually rooms with him when the band tour, confides that Costello is arrinsomniac who spends the sleepless nights feverishly composing. "He is a workaholic. The only thing I'm worried about is him having a heart attack at 26. He's driving himself insanely hard."

Sudden flashback to my first Costello encounter. "I'm deadly serious about this. I don't want to be around to witness my artistic decline,"

One year later,^addressed that same quote to him asking whether success had amended that feeling.

"It'sstill too close to that. I'm already getting paranoid about what is usually petty bitchiness. Like, someone frotn England saw me in the States and said something like, 'Oh he's not hungry anymore.' Like I'd lost that edge or spmething. And it scared me. Sometimes it's just fatigue, other times you can really start to doubt yourself. Sometimes it can be healthy because complete conviction about one's right ness at all times is the worst sort of vanity. Like I've got areas of megalomania which are sometimes the only things that keefc me going.

"Sometimes even now I can feel absolutely washed up. If two days go by without an idea for a song, I become obsessive about writing. That's what taking it up as a career does as opposed to it merely being a hobby,. The thought of me drying up doesn't scare me so much as _the thought of me just repeating myself in a series of diminished echoes.

"Watching someone you admired struggling to be inspired is the most pathetic sight imaginable. Ultimately I just want control over what I'm doing.

"Complete control."

Reprint courtesy New Musical Express.