If Punch the Clock and Goodbye Cruel World were steps back, the album that followed them, King of America is a huge leap forward. And that’s an understatement.
King of America was the first Costello album I ever heard, after receiving it as a gift from my sister and future brother-in-law. The gift of Elvis Costello… tough to beat that. Talk about a gift that keeps on giving! I love the thrill of discovering a new artist, especially when there’s a wealth of previous material to dig through. In recent years I’ve had that experience with Stew and Josh Rouse. But Elvis remains the king in that regard.
There’s a theory that the album you hear first by a favorite artist will remain the album you love best, and King of America certainly backs that up. It’s the third of my Holy Trinity and if it’s edged out by Imperial Bedroom for the top spot, it’s by only a hair.
King of America is a rootsy, acoustic, country-tinged affair that features some of Costello’s finest songwriting. The chorus of opening song ‘Brilliant Mistake’ alone is worthy of canonization (“It was a fine idea at the time… now it’s a brilliant mistake”). Costello’s upcoming album Secret, Profane And Sugarcane is said to be in the same vein musically, which is excellent news.
I could have picked just about any track from this album to highlight today. I went with ‘American Without Tears,’ to be honest, because it’s the first one I found on YouTube. It is certainly one of my favorites, though I would have been equally happy to feature ‘I’ll Wear It Proudly,’ ‘Suit of Lights,’ ‘Indoor Fireworks,’ ‘Brilliant Disguise,’ ‘Poisoned Rose,’ ‘Jack of all Parades,’ and on and on. Seriously… if you don’t have this album, go buy it. Now. Come back and finish this blog entry later.
But my hotel room as usual was freezing and unkind
On TV they prosecute anyone who’s exciting
So I put on my overcoat and went down to find
In Revlon and Crimpelene they captured my heart
To the strain of a piano and a cocktail murderess
She was singing that “It’s Too Late”, I agreed with that part
For two English girls who had changed their address
[chorus]
Now it seems we’ve been crying for years and for years
Now I don’t speak any English, just American without tears
Just American without tears
One had been a beauty queen and the other was her friend
They had known rogues and rascals and showbiz impresarios
While the boys were licking Hitler they had something to defend
From men armed with chewing gum and fine nylon hose
By a bicycle factory as they sounded the siren
And returned into the dancehall she knew he was the one
Though he wasn’t tall or handsome she laughed when he told her
“I’m the Sheriff of Nottingham and this is Little John”
[chorus]
At a dock in Southampton full of tearful goodbyes
Newsreel commentators said “Cheerio, G.I. brides”
Soon they’ll be finding the cold facts and lies
New words for suspenders and young girls backsides
Now I’m in America and running from you
Like my grandfather before me walked the streets of New York
And I think of all the women I pretend mean more than you
When I open my mouth and I can’t seem to talk
Now it seems we’ve been crying for years and for years
Now I don’t speak any English just American without tears
Just American without tears
Meet Me In Montauk 
First, I just love the word “rootsy.” Never realized how happy it makes me until reading this entry š
As I listen to this song this morning, it occurs to me that, like a great poem, it is immediately accessible yet promises more satisfaction the more deeply you consider it. Perhaps that is the genius of the best writing – in songs, film, books. To be able to draw the reader in initially yet offer future dividends for those who wish to seek them out. I don’t know what I’m saying, or why I’m mixing so many odd metaphors, I just think this is a great example of such a song. The title alone has so much power.
Anyway, a great song from a wonderful, rootsy album that contains some of my favorite Elvis Costello songs. The fact that I wouldn’t have automatically listed today’s song of the day as one of them, yet sit hear reflecting on its genius, just emphasizes the point you make in your entry.
King of America was probably my entry point to Costello as well. I think I’ve already discussed in earlier blog entries (and certainly in offline discussions) the “gift” that my friend Ned gave me in Cambridge, England when he handed me two cassette tapes filled with Costello songs and suggested, in a way that only Ned could,, that I would be a fuc___ idiot not to love these songs.:)
Well hell, I thought, I don’t fancy myself an idiot (though I have been labeled an Ig-Nor-A-Moose and Just Plain Dumb on the peg game at Cracker Barrel), and so I listened to those tapes. The first one contained a mix of some of Elvis’ songs from albums preceding Imperial Bedroom, and included such greats as Watching the Detectives, New Lace Sleeves and bootlegs (at that time) of songs like Hoover Factory. The second tape simply contained two of Costello’s best albums of all time (and arguably two of the best albums by anyone of all time): Imperial Bedroom and King of America.
So there i sat in my dorm room in Cambridge, having as close to a religious experience as I was ever going to have. I would think it would be like someone in 1967 who had just “heard of” the Beatles and perhaps had heard Love Me Do on the radio (as I had seen Only Flame in Town on MTV), being handed Rubber Soul and Revolver and told to “check it out.” I was blown away. I was hooked, It was like musical heroine to me. I refused to surrender the tapes for the rest of the Summer and, when I got home, I immediately bought Imperial Bedroom, KOA and Costello’s greatest hits.
And, like most religious experiences, one feels the need to prostelitize to anyone within shouting distance. First came Amy, who I had just started dating not long after returning from Cambridge. She became hooked immediately. Then came Clay. I moved in like the meighborhood drug dealer, offering up KOA as a gift. “Here kid, check this out, you’re gonna love it. This one’s on me,” Hundreds of dollars later, Clay is unable to go more than a few days without a Costello fix:) Indeed, I think he is arguably more addicted than me.
My “drug” dealing continued with others. I always seemed to have an extra copy of Imperial Bedroom around. So, when Amy’s cousin Scott came over, I let him taste a sample of the sweet stuff. Free, of course. And he too was hooked.
Looking back, I now realize that Ned was my drug dealer, and I then became the supplier to others. I suspect that Clay and Scott may have similarly become dealers as well, or at least I hope so.
Anyway, as for today’s song and the album as a whole, I echo what Clay and Amy said above. The album is friggin genius from beginning to end. If the new album is half as good, it will be 100 times better than everything else out there. So, maybe, with this new fangled thing called the Internet and this blog, we will be successful in getting as many of you who are reading this hooked as possible.:)
Oh, and by the way, (and this is true), I still have at least one extra copy of Imperial Bedroom in my collection. So, if anyone would like to “check it out,” let me know. No charge…at least not for the first hit.:)
Love the drug dealer metaphor… how true it is.
As one of the early victims, I fully embrace this metaphor. If only all drugs were as intellectually and emotionally stimulating without the nasty side effects.
I just enjoy how you went from religious proselytizer to drug dealer without taking a breath. Now THAT is funny! Although, I guess they say religion is the opiate of the masses – maybe it’s not such a leap after all.
Great song, by the way. š