The Aurora Review
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Winter/Spring 2005 |
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Elvis Costello and
the Imposters The Delivery Man Lost Highway Records Originally conceived as a concept album about the
life and loves of a delivery man in the Southern United States, Elvis
Costello and the Imposters’ The Delivery Man vacillates between edgy
blues and rock riffs and quiet country ballads with great ease. Almost
entirely about lost love and infidelity, The Delivery Man explores the
darker side of human nature. Nowhere is this more apparent than on the
pop-driven “Monkey to Man” and the rock and blues-tinged “Needle Time,” which
begins with Costello wailing “I wish that I didn’t hate you/at least not as
much as I do” over upbeat, jangling guitars that dissolve into a full-blown
blues riff. Of the ballads, “Heart-Shaped Bruise” and “Nothing Clings Like
Ivy,” bolstered by Emmylou Harris’ soaring soprano vocals, are stand outs.
The former is a three-minute steel guitar-infused duet in the mold of George
and Tammy, the latter a piano-driven pop song with only the sparsest country
leanings. Costello and the Imposters have produced an album deeply rooted in
the Southern blues and country traditions without being clichéd, trite, or
derivative.
The Duel Alabama native Allison Moorer has long been known as a Nashville rebel who refuses to play by the rules dished out by record executives. To date, she has released four albums, each utterly different than the one before. Her latest, The Duel, harkens back to Neil Young and 1970s folk while dealing with such heady subjects as the death of a loved one, alcoholism, poverty, and faith, all anchored by Moorer’s warm, bluesy alto. The title cut, a poignant piano and harmonica track rooted in southern blues music, explores a crisis of faith after the death of a loved one that ends with the pronunciation that God is dead or at least “far from almighty.” The album’s most visceral track, “All Aboard,” deals with American patriotism and chauvinism in the post-9/11 world. “Some restrictions do apply/Watch your mouth and close your eyes/And we allow no yellow foreign queers,” Moorer sneers over a thumping mixture of electric guitars and percussion. The Duel is not an easy album to listen to lyrically. Moorer’s simple lyrics will reach out and grab you by the ears, forcing you to listen. But that is the power of Moorer’s songwriting: she makes people think about the more difficult aspects of the human experience with empathy and understanding. continued |
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