Artist: Elvis Costello
Album: Secret, Profane & Sugarcane
Year: 2009
Grade: 2.5 pretzels
Ever since the 60s, music and the concept of authenticity have had a very complicated relationship. People get so caught up wondering about how “authentic” music is and the generally accepted rule is that “authentic” music is always better than “inauthentic music.” To me, this has always seemed like only so much bullshit. Where exactly are these lines of authenticity being drawn and who is taking it upon themselves to decide these ultimately arbitrary issues? I’ve always placed more stock in whether I actually enjoy the music or not, regardless of how “true it rings” or any such nonsense. However, there are always albums where the artist and the style or subject matter they're working with seem disconnected and Elvis Costello’s new bluegrass album, Secret, Profane & Sugarcane is most certainly one of those.
Costello’s love of folk music, in all of its various forms, has been well documented, particularly in his production work for the juiced up Irish folk-rock of the Pogues. He’s also made no secret of his love for Americana, so the idea of Costello recording a bluegrass-influenced album is less left-field then one might expect. However, this doesn’t change the fact that Costello is a British man who made his career playing nervous, edgy New Wave and that’s still the way most of his fans see him. Also, while I’m not saying firsthand experience is a requisite for playing this kind of music, I’m fairly certain Costello has never lived in a culture of saloons, cotton and sugarcane. So, when Costello sings about such things on this album, it reads as only so much acting. I wouldn’t say there’s anything inherently wrong with that, but the fact that Costello doesn’t come across as very convincing is where the album goes wrong.
From an audio standpoint, the album is actually pretty stellar. Costello recruited T-Bone Burnett, the producer of this year’s Grammy sensation, Raising Sand by Robert Plant & Alison Krauss. While that album’s songs were forgettable and derivative of every adult-oriented blues rock album ever, the job Burnett did with arranging and recording those songs definitely impressed me. His work on Secret, Profane & Sugarcane is just as admirable, as he carefully balances all the requisite parts (banjo, fiddle and huge dollops of country twang) to create a fairly convincing approximation of good ol’, down home bluegrass. Unfortunately, Costello doesn’t hold up his end of the bargin by delievering quality songs, leaving Burnett with yet another album that sounds quite impressive, but is ultimately rather soulless and shallow.
What exactly does Costello expect us to make of songs like this? Right off the bat, he greets us with the abusively twangy “Down Among The Wine And Spirits”, a song about longing and nervousness that should be right up Costello’s alley, but instead gets a bit too lost trying to accommodate references to “swinging doors,” “empty barrels,” and “sawdust floors.” The album continues in that vein, setting up songs that sound like standard Costello fare before knocking them down with awkward, forced bluegrass slang and posturing. A song like “My All Time Doll” works up until Costello feels compelled to add that “I already swore in the far flung cry of a closing saloon.” Costello even adds what sounds like misplaced racial commentary in the form of lines like “sometimes justice you will find is just dumb not color blind” from the otherwise enjoyable “Complicated Shadows”. Costello has more than proven that he’s a top-shelf songwriter in years past, but on this latest album, he seems too caught up in his concept to realize that he’s too far out of his element to really be effective.
Costello’s love of folk music, in all of its various forms, has been well documented, particularly in his production work for the juiced up Irish folk-rock of the Pogues. He’s also made no secret of his love for Americana, so the idea of Costello recording a bluegrass-influenced album is less left-field then one might expect. However, this doesn’t change the fact that Costello is a British man who made his career playing nervous, edgy New Wave and that’s still the way most of his fans see him. Also, while I’m not saying firsthand experience is a requisite for playing this kind of music, I’m fairly certain Costello has never lived in a culture of saloons, cotton and sugarcane. So, when Costello sings about such things on this album, it reads as only so much acting. I wouldn’t say there’s anything inherently wrong with that, but the fact that Costello doesn’t come across as very convincing is where the album goes wrong.
From an audio standpoint, the album is actually pretty stellar. Costello recruited T-Bone Burnett, the producer of this year’s Grammy sensation, Raising Sand by Robert Plant & Alison Krauss. While that album’s songs were forgettable and derivative of every adult-oriented blues rock album ever, the job Burnett did with arranging and recording those songs definitely impressed me. His work on Secret, Profane & Sugarcane is just as admirable, as he carefully balances all the requisite parts (banjo, fiddle and huge dollops of country twang) to create a fairly convincing approximation of good ol’, down home bluegrass. Unfortunately, Costello doesn’t hold up his end of the bargin by delievering quality songs, leaving Burnett with yet another album that sounds quite impressive, but is ultimately rather soulless and shallow.
What exactly does Costello expect us to make of songs like this? Right off the bat, he greets us with the abusively twangy “Down Among The Wine And Spirits”, a song about longing and nervousness that should be right up Costello’s alley, but instead gets a bit too lost trying to accommodate references to “swinging doors,” “empty barrels,” and “sawdust floors.” The album continues in that vein, setting up songs that sound like standard Costello fare before knocking them down with awkward, forced bluegrass slang and posturing. A song like “My All Time Doll” works up until Costello feels compelled to add that “I already swore in the far flung cry of a closing saloon.” Costello even adds what sounds like misplaced racial commentary in the form of lines like “sometimes justice you will find is just dumb not color blind” from the otherwise enjoyable “Complicated Shadows”. Costello has more than proven that he’s a top-shelf songwriter in years past, but on this latest album, he seems too caught up in his concept to realize that he’s too far out of his element to really be effective.
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