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Band listing:
Elvis Costello - Vocals, Guitars and Anvil
Maurice Worm (Steve Nieve) - Random Racket
Bruce Thomas - Bass Guitar I Suppose
Pete Thomas - Drums
Gary Barnacle - Saxes and Electric Sax (Courtesy of Epic Records)
Jim Paterson - Trombone
Luis Jardim - Percussion
Vocals on "The Only Flame In Town" - Daryl Hall (Courtesy of RCA Records)
Vocals on "I Wanna Be Loved" - Green (courtesy of Virgin Records)
Congratulations! You've just purchased our worst album. At least that is the impression I've given over the years and I am sure that you could find many people who would agree with me. However as you are reading this I will assume that you are curious, rather than morbid. I can explain everything....
Many very private and personal concerns influenced the fate of these songs and sessions. A "sleve note" is certainly not the proper place to discuss them. It must suffice to say that I began the year as a married man and after a fraught and futile period, I found myself living alone by the time this record was released. "Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa", as we used to say in church without being really sure what it meant. I was about to find out.
Musically speaking the year began positively. I decided to stop rushing into songs as soon as a single idea sprang into my head. Instead I collected many fragments and then applied myself to an intense period of writing. Moving a piano and a couple of guitars into F-Beat Records' recently vacated Acton office I went to work during ordinary business hours "Tin-Pan Alley Style". Most of the time writing went quite smoothly and if I got stuck I had installed an easel so that I could attempt a little oil painting.
(In fact "Eamonn Singer" ended up daubing "Pat and Mike" - a very corny visual joke which makes up part of the "artwork". he is still awaiting an offer from the Getty Foundation).
My gravest mistake for all concerned was in asking Clive Langer and Alan Winstanley to produce this record. This is far from a criticism of Clive and Alan's abilities. In truth I didn't need a producer, I probably needed a nurse (or maybe a priest). "Pop Music" was among the things about which I was dempressed and demoralised. Despite the success of "Punch The Clock" I fought every attempt to apply the Clanger/Winstanley method to these songs. That I thought of approaching Richard Thompson to add guitar to a couple of cuts is a clue to dark tone I was really after. Like so many of my notions of the time it came to nothing.
After two tense and fairly unproductive weeks of playing "live" in London's SARM WEST STUDIOS we called a truce. I'm almost certain that Clive wished he could get out of the project but stuck it out more as a friend than a professional. I agreed to let them work their magic on a few cuts and give the record company some commercial focus while the rest of the tunes went fairly unadorned. It was a happy, if fatal, compromise.
All of Clive and Alan's techniques went into "The Only Flame In Town". Bruce and Pete were locked to a clatter of mechanical percussion and Steve worked up the dizzy keyboard arrangement (including a little Bach.)
Our first guest musician was Gary Barnacle who added the kind of part that was popular in those days on an instrument that I have come to despise in the hands of all but a few.
(On the subsequent tour Gary was our solitary horn player. In an attempt to duplicate the "Punch The Clock" section sound he plaed through an extravagent array of harmonising and octave-dividing devices, achieving a very passible impersonation of an Italian traffic-jam).
Our second guest was Daryl Hall who added some effortless high harmonies to the chorus. He was also adored by the camera during the shooting of the accompanying "Win A Date with Elvis and The Attractions" video -made by Allen Arkush - director of both "Rock'n'Roll High School" and early episodes of "Monlighting". Daryl made the rest of us look as if we had just crawled out of a hedge. My humour wasn't helped by the record company representative shrieking at the make-up girl: "Make him look handsome" as I was about to go under the pancake. Ah! The eighties.
(Even though the finished record was a minor hit single in the US it hasn't dated very well. Some the lines tumble off the tightrope without the justification of the original ballad treatment).
The other big production number on the album was a cover of an extremely rare Hi Records/Willie Mitchell cut: "I Wanna Be Loved" by Teacher's Edition. From the foundation of a cranky souning drum machine we made one of our very few slow-dance records. The high harmonies on this cut were provided by Green of Scritty Politti.
(Despite a few dated touches this track remains closer to my heart than it's companion, particularly when heard in conjunction with "photo-booth" video which was directed in Melbourne, Australia by Evan English. This is one of the only occasions that a video actually improved one of our records. "I wanna Be Loved" was also my last U.K. hit single in the ocmpany of The Attractions for nine years. In fact we were banished from the BBC's "Top of the Pops" studio after Pete mimed his final drum-fill by playing it on his head. According to the preening producer this revealed the state secret that we were not actually playing "live".)
There isn't much rock'n'roll on this record. There is a detached, an almost sedated quality to the remaining songs and performances. However I believe that the words are a big improvement on most of "Punch The Clock". Although many of the stories are dense and obscure they can't disguise the fears, doubts and desires. If some of the songs fail to hold up then that is because they are a product of my gloomiest and least inspired days.
I couldn't always muster much technique when feelings were running high. "Home Truth" was the saddest song that I had ever written but it struggled to seem so in the clipped and sterile studio sound. meanwhile the bewildered tales of adulterous life fared much better, which I suppose I was fitting. As someone once said "deep down I'm very superficial".
"Inch by Inch" had a chorus which seemed to be trying to cross Henry Mancini with The Impressions while I started to believe that "Love Field" sounded a bit like a Serge Gainsbourg production. I even tried to make the words sound as if they had been badly translated from another language.
My second songwriting collaboration with Clive produced "The Great Unknown". In it, infamous characters from celebrated songs have spiteful things done to them. I waqs having my doubts about being "known" at all and this was probably the least awkward way of expressing it. The dolorous mood continues with "Joe Porterhouse" which is about the funeral of a family strong man.
(I adapted the music and some of the words from "I Love You When You Sleep", a song I had written for Respond Records artist Tracie.)
"Worthless Thing" was written when the mausoleaum-builders of the T.V. and magazine trade had only just started catching lightning and turning it into a museum piece. It mentions a lot of things in passing: Game Shows, bodysnatchers, "Elvis Presley Wine", obsessives, cable television, and "an obituary... for every clockwork cat and concievable kitten" but most of all it was about the lack of surprises. It is a pity that self-loathing wasn't more fashionable at the time.
I think I probably wanted to make a kind of "folk-rock" record but instead of an open ringing sound we ended up with a muted background against which events were supposed to occur. When we did attempt to produce a more detailed song we produced "Room Without A Number", which believe it or not started out as a perfectly good country mystery-story.
(I'm afraid we also fell under the spell of fashionable hardware. Steve had always used synthesisers to colour his keyboard parts. They had a rarity because they were not exactly cheap and seemed to bend to the player's style. The latest fad was the Yamaha DX7. This light, inexpensive device seemed ideal for about six months by which time almost every group in the world seemed to have one. It has a tinny, unyielding tone for which I will never be nostalgic. Along with the veneer of Solid State recording the omni-present DX7 does more than anything else to "datestamp" this record).
Sometimes perversity ruled the day. I trivialised the drama of "The Comedians" by my willful decision to re-arrange it in 5/4 time, while "Deportees Club" was simply the wrong music for the right words. Thankfully none of this proved fatal in the long run.
Between the competion and the release of this record I discovered some of the mistakes I'd made. During that time I played my first professional solo concerts on a tour of the United States. I got a chance to reclaim several old tunes that had got lost in the studio but most of all I began to rescue my newest songs from the recorded fog. I even went so far as to re-compose the music of "Deportees Club". Stripping off the over-wrought racket I found a tune more in keeping with an exile's lament. Several years later Christy Moore cut a great version of it for his album "The Voyage".
The opening act on the solo tour was T Bone Burnett. We got along like several blazing houses. During the three tours we did together in the following twelve months I wrote the songs that T Bone would produce for my album "King Of America". A couple of years after that T Bone asked me if I had a suitable song for Roy Orbison's "Mystery Girl" album. It didn't take much to return "The Comedians" to its original arrangement, which sounded something like "Running Scared". However I added new words and a few extra modulations before I gave the finished tune to Roy. When the "The Comedians" appeared on Roy's last record I felt that I had done everything possible to rescue what was left of this squandered material.
The last track on "Goodbye Crewl World" is "Peace In Our Time". If it now seems like a relic of those days of anti-nuclear dread then I hope it stays that way. In the instrumental refrain trombonist Jim Paterson plays the melody from another unfinished song of mine: "World Without End".
"TURNING THE TOWN RED" (Double-A-Side of "I Wanna Be Loved" single)
This was written for the opening titles of Alan Bleasdale's television series "Scully". The basic track was cut dring the "Goodbye Cruel World" sessions but for the vocal and guitar overdubs I returned to AIR studios and worked with Jon Jacobs (who was assistant engineer on "Imperial Bedroom").
"BABY IT'S YOU"
This track was recorded at Nick Lowe's "Ampro Studios". As Nick and his Cowboy outfit were to join us on the U.S. leg of our "Goodbye Cruel World" tour Columbia Records suggested that we cut something "extra" for a joint twelve-inch promo record featuring each of our latest single releases. Despite all our studio work together this was our first duet on record. Unfortunately the record company deemed the track "too good", fearing that it would draw airplay from the "real" singles. Such was the complex strategey of the modern recording industry. Consequently "Baby It's You" saw very little exposure until it's release on the Demon Records compilation "Out Of Our Idiot".
"GET YOURSELF ANOTHER FOOL" and "I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY NOW"
These tracks come from an EDEN STUDIOS session during the "Goodbye Cruel World" tour.
It was a year full of contradictions and a rather erratic tour. There was one night when SAM MOORE joined us for a great duet on "I Can't Stand Up For Falling Down" but on other evenings I struggled to connect with even my own songs. The shows tended to ramble. Sometimes we stayed on stage for over three hours until I found what I wanted in other people's songs. These tunes included "Dark End Of The Street", "I Still Miss Someone", "I've Forgotten More Than You'll Ever Know" and "I'll make it all up to you".
"I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY NOW" was written during a brief summer trip to Italy. I planned to make another "Instant Single" of this track but it failed to come out sounding quite the way I felt. Instead we cut a brace of r'n'b ballads of which "GET YOURSELF ANOTHER FOOL" was the best. I learned it from the Sam Cooke record "Night Beat" although I later found out that this version paid tribute to the style of Charles Brown.
"ONLY FLAME IN TOWN", "WORTHLESS THING", "MOTEL MATCHES", and "SLEEPLESS NIGHTS"
A few snapshots from my first solo tour.
"DEPORTEE"
A demo recording of the new melody of this song.
The Only Flame In Town I know a girl got my mind in a mess I never heard her say goodnight and God bless She's not the only flame in town And when we're alone we never quarrel I'm miles away now here's the moral She's not the only flame in town She's not the only flame in town She's got to stop thinking that I'm carrying this torch around He struck a match and it lit up her face We should have struck a match girl To burn down the whole place Now you're not the only flame in town But you blew hot and cold Turned my heart to a cinder And with each passing day You'd be less tender and more tinder Now you're not the only flame in town She's not the only flame in town She's got to stop thinking that I'm carrying this torch around Thought I saw your face in the fire But it's so hard to remember Even an inferno can cool down to an ember Now you're not the only flame You're not the only flame You're not the only flame in town
Home Truth I hung up the phone tonight Just as you said I love you Once this would have been coincidence Now these things start to bother me You still close your eyes when I kiss you And I close mine too But we didn't open them again Quite as wide as we should This is where the home truth ends This is where the home truth ends Does your touch feel the same as it should do Or is it someone quite similar Who killed me with kindness last night Now do I look at all familiar? But none of these things seem to matter Since we've grown apart I'd put back the pieces of what's shattered But I don't know where to start This is where the home truth ends This is where the home truth ends This is where the home truth ends And I feel like a clown It's tearing me up It's tearing me down You say which are the lies that you tell me Well where do I begin? So I turn on the TV again And the world comes crashing in Is it my shirt or my toothpaste That is whiter than white? Is it the lies that I tell you Or the lies that I might? This is where the home truth ends This is where the home truth ends Chorus
Room With No Number Picture a hotel room Clothes scattered across the floor Covers pulled back from the pillow A sign hung on the door Two lovers locked up tight Through the endless days and nights Hiding something they can't show Something no-one must know Chorus There's a room without a number While the sign outside says there's no vacancy as you take your key They smile at you so understandingly She cried out in the night Woke the porter from his sleep He grinned slyly to himself As he went to fetch his keys Look what love has brought them to This terrible nightmare His or hers he could not tell As they were sleeping there Chorus And I wish he could be The man he was before he was me A girl arrived at first light And enquired if they'd been seen And why the numbers ran from twelve Missing out thirteen And they said oh my darling Put it down to superstition Try to avoid a scandal And don't arouse suspicion They re-arranged the furniture They even papered over the door There's a room without a number While the sign outside says there's no vacancy as you take your key They smile just so so you know Chorus
Inch By Inch You can take a powder You can take a drink You can keep the shrink And the kitchen sink Write my name in heaven in invisible ink I just woke up from dreaming, I think You can take me over You can give me a lip You can take me under You can give me the slip Take off everything or tear me off a strip Like a lady in the chamber and another in the clip Chorus Don't move a muscle baby Don't even flinch You can miss me by a mile Or just inch by inch Inch by inch Inch by inch Inch by inch You can pull me up again Inch by inch Inch by inch As pulses race I long to see that look upon your face You can take me outside You can take me apart You can take me upstairs you can take me to heart You made me love you when you thought you were so smart Don't try to stop me when you told me to start Chorus
Worthless Thing How many times can you jump out of the cupboard Before someone gets suspicious or someone gets discovered You can live forever in a split second of fame Come on down the price is right what's your name While a crocodile makes good shoes and a dog may change his coat I can't change what's written on your face tonight and I quote Chorus Oh I wish you could see Quite how much you could mean to me You worthless thing If you were ten feet taller and almost handsome I might pay this king's ransom You worthless thing They commit blue murder along Union Avenue Then they sell you souvenir matches Nightclubs full of grave robbers from Memphis, Tennessee And Las Vegas body snatchers And he's carrying a warning can't you see how his eyes glint Keep your bloody hands off my life your affectionate fingerprint Chorus All the cars and pills and girls who tore his shirt to tatters Do you know how tall he was 'cos that is all that really matters? Do you know his mother's last name do you think that he's divine? You've seen the film you've read the book you're drinking vintage Elvis Presley wine Bored out of your tiny mind while life is twice as large They'll cut her down to size on television She's available and beautiful, but with more time to devote They're going to take this cable now and stick it down your throat So this is an obituary which should be right and fitting For every clockwork cat and conceivable kitten Chorus
Love Field You lie so unfolded In a love field With your contempt for any modesty In a love field In a love field In a love field You yield with your lips still sealed In a love field Lost in a sea of imaginary women Everything you'd want from the dawn to the dimming Breath comes sharp and heart beats faster In a love field Cold ground for a pillow Under a blanket of stars In a love field In a love field In a love field Headlights that startled This embrace of hours In a love field In a crooked house Where things can be arranged You think you're different from the rest But you don't see how you've changed Under an archway On a road of white linen In a love field Feel the anxious rhythm of a functional stranger In a love field In a love field In a love field She's so tense but it's never mentioned In a love field
I Wanna Be Loved Why must I be so lonely? When so many people pass me by I've been waiting for oh so long now And yet I'm unable to answer why I can't be made to give up now Can you find room for me in your heart somehow? I wanna be loved I just wanna be loved I guess I'm a victim of loneliness But why should this be my destiny? A foolish man for a lot of my life Shouldn't there be someone Someone for me? I hope and I pray some happy day That I'll be around to hear you say I wanna be loved I just wanna be loved
The Comedians I fell under such gentle persuasion You can't refuse it's like a home from home Meanwhile in the Motor car kingdom They're finding that all that glitters is not chrome The social circle have these cardiac complaints Their hearts are empty when their hands are full All these new found fond acquaintances Turn out to be the red rag to my bull Chorus And I'm up while the dawn is breaking Even though my heart is aching I should be drinking a toast to absent friends Instead of these comedians I've looked into these eyes upon reflection They've seen the face of love, they've seen a few What kind of love is this upon inspection You'll be the last to know who's fooling who Chorus
Joe Porterhouse The children sit upon the stairs High above a valley of tears Don't let them see you crying that way oh no Oh no Joe Porterhouse Is not gone forever He'll be back another day Don't let them see you crying that way Chorus Please don't wake him let him sleep It's a moment she can keep Like an old bus ticket or a photograph Resting on the mantlepiece While for the wicked there is no peace She says it's not his time to go Why we were nearly lovers years ago Now what is left for me Among the broken branches of the family tree Heart like an anchor Arms like cable He stood all alone on an iron turntable Don't let them see you crying that way oh no The sun beats down It's cracking the flags Boys who should know better Are stamping out fags Don't let them see you laughing that way Chorus Oh no Joe Porterhouse Is not gone forever He'll be back another day Don't let them see you crying that way
Sour Milk-Cow Blues You like coffee and you like tea Much more than you like me And everybody says watch out yeah For the sour milk-cow blues You like your coffee just a little too sweet Without your sugar life is incomplete And everybody says watch out yeah For the sour milk-cow blues I think about you everyday Something about you is not the same Something about the things you say Sounds like a different woman with a different name Sour milk-cow blues You wear a different size and style of shoe I think that someone must be poisoning you To replace you with a living double Get out of my life right now and save them all of the trouble They changed your complexion and your personality Somebody's putting ideas in your head They took the girl of my dreams and left you here instead Sour milk-cow blues You take your place in this parade of pleas You dial a number and they offer relief All alone with just your own device They give you something and it isn't advice To break the hearts of a million listeners Start out as lovers and you end up as prisoners Somebody's suffering from the things that you do Somebody's suffering but you're glad it isn't you Put your fingertips up to the screen Repeat after me, wake at the count of three Now I don't know which is worse What they're doing to you or what you're doing to me Sour milk-cow blues
The Great Unknown They took old Danny Boy for a ride From the arms of his bride to be Threw him into the murky waters By the dog biscuit factory Quick dry the tears and stifle cheers As he sinks just like a stone Footprints set in sentimental cement Now burden down his bones Lest we forget Here lies the Great unknown My my my Delilah Who's the butcher that you harbour Take the rich man to the cleaners And the strong man to the barber From her face down to her torso Sort of gruesome only more so Hooks and eyes, fingers and thumbs Ladies and gentlemen here she comes The Great unknown Where shall we sing At a wedding or a wake Whose name shall we cherish And for whose sake Now this year's cannon fodder Tell the future general's jokes They were keeping the home fires burning As we slipped out for a smoke Though the VIP's sang "Wooden Heart" The band played "Hearts of Oak" (Chorus) And here comes the day I shall perish all alone Say here lies the Great unknown
The Deportees Club The Demo of "DEPORTEE" has essentially the same lyrics as this earlier version of the song In the Arrivederci Roma nightclub, bar and grill Standing in the fibreglass ruins watching time stand still All your troubles you confess to another faceless backless dress Schnapps chianti porter and ouzo Pernod vodka sambuca I love you so Deportee Tatty beauty talking in riddles Rome burns down everybody's on the fiddle Two thousand dollars for wife and some class A thousand years drowned in a chaser glass How I wish that she was mine I could have been a King in Six Eight Time Schnapps chianti porter and ouzo Pernod vodka sambuca I love you so Deportee It's a brittle charm but she's had enough Still she wrote her number on his paper cuff You don't know where to start or where to stop All this pillow talk is nothing more than talking shop When I came here tonight my pockets were overflowing They took my return ticket without me even knowing I pray to the saints and all the martyrs For the secret life of Frank Sinatra But none of these things have come to pass In America the law is a piece of ass I'm a deportee
Peace In Our Time Out of the aeroplane stepped Chamberlain with a condemned man's stare But we all cheered wildly, a photograph was taken, as he waved a piece of paper in the air Now the Disco Machine lives in Munich and we are all friends And I slip on my Italian dancing shoes as the evening descends And the bells take their toll once again in victory chime And we can thank God that we've finally got peace in our time There's a man going round taking names no matter who you claim to be As innocent as babies, a mad dog with rabies, you're still a part of some conspiracy Meanwhile there's a light over the ocean burning brighter than the sun And a man sits alone in a bar and says "Oh God, what have we done?" Chorus They're lighting a bonfire upon every hilltop in the land Just another tiny island invaded when he's got the whole world in his hands And the Heavyweight Champion fights in the International Propaganda Star Wars There's already one spaceman in the White House what do you want another one for? Chorus
Turning The Town Red You've been taught that this won't do They put me in the picture but the film turned blue A glimpse of you, Turning The Town Red. A head full of brand new words and a mouth full of shocks You're a big boy now, with a face to stop clocks. Turning the Town Red. (x2) You made your bed, and now you better dream in it. The word that you once whispered, now you're screamin' it. Days drip down like bad wallpaper. Pictures plastered on the ivy creeper between your old toy soldiers and your mother's sleepers. Turning the Town Red. (x2) You made your bed, you better face the consequence. A black pool opened at my feet into a dream sequence. Turning the Town Red. Aah. (x4) You know I heard her call my name Least, I think that's what she said. Surely I'm the correlation that's gonna cause her shame So, what's she doing in my bed? Turning the Town Red. Aah. (Repeat.)
Baby It's You (Sha, la, la, la...) It's not the way you look that touched my heart. It's not the way you kissed me, baby, that tears me apart. Many, many nights I tried. I sit alone at home and I cried over you. What can I do? I can't help myself, cause baby, it's you. You should hear the things they say about you. They say you're never, ever, ever, ever gonna be true. Oh. I don't listen to a word they say. I'm gonna love you any old way. What can I do? It's true. I can't help myself, cause baby, it's you. I don't listen to a word they say. I'm gonna love you any old way. What can I do? It's true. I can't help myself, cause baby, it's you. Baby, it's you.
Get Yourself Another Fool At last I've awakened to see what you've done. All I can do is pack up and run. Now I know the rules. Find yourself another fool. You said that you loved me. I was yours to command. Your kind of loving, my heart couldn't stand. You played me for a fool. Find yourself another fool. And now, now that we're through, you say you wished you'd be true. Oh, but deep down in my heart, I know our love could never grow. And now, now that we're through, you say you wished you'd be true. Oh, but deep down in my heart, I know our love will never grow. At last I've awakened to see what you've done. All I can do is pack up and run. Now I know the rules. Find yourself another fool. Now I know the rules. Find yourself another fool.
I Hope You're Happy Now He's a fine figure of a man and handsome too With his eyes upon the secret places he'd like to undo Still he knows who knows who and where and how And I hope you're happy now He's got all the things you need and some that you will never But you make him sound like frozen food, his love will last forever Still he know what you want and what you don't allow And I hope you're happy now I hope that you're happy now like you're supposed to be And I know that this will hurt you more than it hurts me He's acting innocent and proud still you know what he's after Like a matador with his pork sword, while we all die of laughter In his turquoise pajamas and motorcycle hat I hope you're happy now because you'll soon put pay to that I knew then what I know now I never loved you anyhow And I hope you're happy now
Motel Matches Somewhere in the distance I can hear "Who Shot Sam?" This is my conviction, that I am an innocent man Though you say I'm unkind I'm being as nice as I can Boys everywhere, fumbling with the catches I struck lucky with motel matches Falling for you without a second look Falling out of your open pocketbook Giving you away like motel matches I wake with the siren in an emergency Though your mind is full of love In your eyes there is a vacancy And you know what I'll do When the light outside changes from red to blue Chorus
Sleepless Nights (Submitted by Craig Ciccone, Written by Bryant and Bryant) Through the sleepless nights I cry for you And wonder who Is kissing you Oh, these sleepless nights Will brake my heart in two Somehow, through the day I don't give in I hide the tears That wait within Oh, these sleepless nights Will break my heart again Why did you go? Oh, why did you go? Don't you know, don't you know I need you? Through the sleepless nights I cry for you And wonder who Is kissing you Oh, these sleepless nights Will break my heart in two Oh, oh, oh, oh, these sleepless nights Will break my heart in two Oh, oh, oh, oh, these sleepless nights Will break my heart in two
Withered and Died This cruel old country has driven me down, teased me and lied. I've only sad stories to tell to this town My dreams have withered and died. Once I was bending the tops of the trees, Kind thoughts in my head, kind voices to hear. Then I took up with a girl from the West. They'd run and hide, they'd run and hide. Count one to ten and she's gone like the rest. My dreams have withered and died. If I was a butterfly, lived for a day, I could be free just blowing away. Silver moon sailor and silver moonshine On the water so wide, water so wide, Slip from the bed of a good friend of mine My dreams have withered and died. Once I was bending the tops of the trees Kind thoughts in my head, kind voices to hear. This cruel country has driven me down, teased me and lied. Teased me and lied. I've only sad stories to tell to this town. My dreams have withered and died. (x3)
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