Brilliant Mistake

Elvis Costello

I’m listening to King of America, Elvis Costello’s 1986 album, while receiving my fourth and final dose of Cytarabine for this chemo cycle. Unlike the over-produced and rather directionless ‘Goodbye Cruel World’,  this album still works for me 32 years on as the songs and production remain coherent for the whole hour.

The first track is ‘Brilliant Mistake’, and the first verse seems to resonate when listened to against the backdrop of Trump and Brexit. I hope fervently that in a couple of years these brilliant mistakes will have been consigned to the dustbin of history. But if not, well, a few listens to ‘Suit of Lights’, also on this album, will probably make me feel a little better.

Brilliant Mistake – Declan MacManus

He thought he was the King of America

Where they pour coca-cola just like vintage wine

Now I try hard not to become hysterical

But I’m not sure if I’m laughing or crying

I wish that I could push a button

And talk in the past and not the present tense

And watch this hurting feeling disappear

Like it was common sense

It was a fine idea at the time (*)

Now it’s a brilliant mistake

 

(*) I was obviously never convinced that Trump or Brexit were fine ideas, but understand why many people thought they were. Hopefully change is coming …

 

I’m not 17 … but neither was anyone else

Last Saturday evening, as Elvis Costello was thundering towards the climax of his performance at the Nottingham Royal Concert Hall, I remembered what it was like to be 17 again. Just for a few moments during the final couple of songs I really believed that the last 30 or so years hadn’t happened yet.

A quick glance around convinced me of reality though. Probably the most notable feature of the evening, aside from the privilege of watching a great performer was that the vast majority of the audience were most definitely not 17. They were nearly all my age – or older. The teenagers were a few yards up the road, waiting to get into Rock City as us oldies all trooped out into the night after the gig had finished at around 11pm.

But for a couple of hours it was great to re-live the soundtrack to that particular part of my life … even if I can’t hear any version of High Fidelity (a single from the 1980 “Get Happy!!” album) without my brain superimposing the scratches at the end of the track which have always been on my copy.