Elvis Costello and Steve Nieve
National Concert Hall, Dublin
★★★★☆
They have spent the best of 45 years together on tour buses, dressingrooms, hotel lounges, aeroplanes, recording studios, and stages, so it’s no real surprise that Elvis Costello and Steve Nieve slip and slide off each other’s backs like eels. They have an instinctive shorthand that may be indiscernible to the naked eye, but which they can each see coming almost without having to look up or over. Sure, they have a set list prepared and fit for purpose, and each show has a starting point, but, as he said in this paper a few days ago, “after 10 minutes it all goes to hell and we change everything.”
Of course, things don’t go to hell at all, but with almost 500 songs in his back pocket you might wonder how Costello filters out the best part of 20 of them for these shows. There is no definitive answer, but what is certain is a subtle realignment of what a steadfast and mature Costello audience can expect. Numerous areas of his lengthy and diverse career are explored and sometimes radically recalibrated, from his early days (Accidents Will Happen, Oliver’s Army, Alison, Watching the Detectives, Talking in the Dark, Shot With His Own Gun), mid (Jack of All Parades, Shipbuilding, Deportees Club), late (Tart, The Whirlwind, We Are All Cowards Now), collaborations (Burt Bacharach co-writes Toledo, I Still Have That Other Girl, My Thief, and Paul McCartney co-write, Veronica), covers (She, What’s So Funny ‘Bout Peace, Love and Understanding), beat poetry (John Went Walking, making its debut), and unreleased (Like Licorice on Your Tongue).
All of these and a few more are delivered with a showman’s sleight of hand – he moves from semi-conducting the audience to putting on his best Eric Morecambe impression, from brief, wry reminiscence (“I’m back in sinful Ireland…”) to poignant memory digging, from scratchy guitar player to triumphant, if scorched, vocalist.
There was a marked difference, however, with this performance – Costello has performed in Ireland many times but only once (in 1999, at this venue) with just his trusted friend and long-term musical associate, keyboardist/pianist Steve Nieve. As a strictly solo performer, Costello would have been fine (“it should be enough if it’s me and my ukulele”), but Nieve’s playing added moments of unadulterated pleasure you simply didn’t expect.
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That started from the second song, Accidents Will Happen, where he turned the punk-era pop classic into a flourishing piece of dramatic opera. He does the same with Talking in the Dark, and follows with more exacting, downright wonderful frills on I Still Have That Other Girl and (What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding.
The show concluded with Alison, one of Costello’s all-time classic songs, but from start to finish there was no pandering to audience expectations, while on more than several occasions Nieve’s playing trumped everything. Rather, as Costello approaches his 70th year in 2024, he has instinctively coaxed his music out of the pop/rock tradition and directed it towards a determined if delicate version of musical theatre. There’s no stopping him, is there?
