Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink

Elvis Costello might have been a fine novelist (or, better, short story writer), historian, or music critic. In this lollapalooza of a terrific memoir, he combines all these aptitudes and then some. Frequently brilliant, sometimes startlingly, this episodic tour of a life in music is funny, sad, touching, insightful and self-aware, buoyed by a refreshing sense of gratitude, and shot through with even more guilt and self-reproach than you'd expect from this former altar boy. No fan should think of missing it.

There's much to learn here about Costello's life and work, and the relationship between the two, even for his most ardent fans. Some revelations have all the more impact for having been hiding in plain sight. Yes, "Alison" is autobiographical, but not in a way you ever guessed. And although there have been plenty of clues along the way -- his one big MTV hit was about his grandmother, after all, and most fans are aware that his father had a career as a musician -- this book reveals the surprising depth to which his sense of himself is rooted in family and how much this has always informed his music and his approach to it. He is, as always, enthusiastic and knowledgeable about the music-making process and the music that has influenced him. But he also reveals links between his songs and his life in ways he has shied away from before, perhaps because he knows that if he wants to tell his story, it's a fool's errand to try to untangle that knot.

Don't expect a salacious tell-all. Costello's great passion is music and his approach to other kinds of passion is discreet. His first encounter with the Beatles' music is described not only in more detail than his encounters with his first girlfriend, but with considerably more erotic energy. Some portions of the book, especially those covering the period he calls his "moment of pop infamy", have a compressed, almost dreamlike (or poem-like) quality. While no real dirt is dished, a few scores do get settled. By my count, one ex-girlfriend, one ex-bandmate, one ex-manager, and a handful of fellow travelers get put their place, albeit usually with the minimum force required to do the job. He spends orders of magnitude more ink paying genuine and well-considering compliments to the people he's encountered. It's no accident that excerpts from the chapter on Allen Toussaint doubled as a eulogy for the man when he died a few weeks after this book was published.

This is a big book, but as you'd expect from a songwriter, Costello's strongest writing comes in smaller units: witty aphorisms, vivid anecdotes, and striking passages that condense much incident and emotion into few words. The book may lack the clearly defined narrative arc some reader crave. But so does life, and a three-act structure would hardly serve the odd contours of Costello's protean career. Instead, the book works more like an well-constructed album, where each song resonates with and brings out new meanings in the others. Like all Costello's great albums, it rewards careful attention, and I suspect it will repay revisiting.

'Unfaithful Music and Disappearing Ink' is an autobiography by Elvis Costello (Declan McManus). I have been a die-hard Elvis Costello fan since my days in high school ('79). I have enjoyed his music from the early days with the Attractions to the present. Even the Juliet Letters! While a lot of my friends were enjoying the heavy metal and hair bands I typically gravitated to EC, Squeeze, the Clash, the Jam, and the ska music coming from the UK. Elvis is a wonderful songwriter and definitely underrated in my opinion.

The book however is a little uneven. There are stories that moved me, including the passing of his grandmother and the early years as a struggling band. There were some stories that just seemed to get a little repetitive though. Elvis has worked with a lot of the great musicians over the years and he relates those encounters and collaborations in a number of chapters. after a few of these stories I started to loss track and a little interest towards the end of the book.

While I think the book stand well on its own, to really enjoy the book you need to be a fan of all things Elvis. I do think it is a good read for those fans, so enjoy!

"Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink" (2015 publication; 688 pages) is the long-awaited memoir from erstwhile angry young rocker Elvis Costello, who burst onto the rock scene with his astonishing debut album "My Aim Is True" in 1977. As the book opens, we find ourselves in Hammersmith Palais, not for a Costello show, but instead where young Elvis spent many a days listening to his father, himself an established singer and musician in the Joe Loss Orchestra (a Glenn Miller-like dance band).

From those first memories from the mid-60s, Costello takes us on an unforgettable journey. Amazingly, the memoir is not brought chronologically. Instead, Costello zig-zags from left to right and all over the place, bringing us what amounts to a gigantic stream of consciousness. But somehow it works, and no period of his life and his career remains untouched. The stories are numerous. I grew up in Belgium, and imagine my surprise when I read: "Our set at the 1977 Bilzen festival met with a pretty muted reaction from the punk-crazy sons and daughters of the Kingdom of Belgium", ha! (I was at the 1979 Bilzen festival.) Costello's admiration for the Beatles was ingrained from a young age, and his stories of befriending Paul McCartney (and eventually writing songs together) are just fun to read. "You could say that I was introduced to Paul and Linda by their young son, James. He must have been only four or five and visiting his Dad at work when he ... ran into our control room while we were doing something tricky with tape and a razor blade", ha! Later in the book, Costello muses "I was born in the same hospital in which Alexander Fleming discovered penicillin. I apologize in advance that I have not been the same boon to mankind", too funny. In fact, Costello is self-depreciative throughout the book. Not to mention nicely reserved and respectful of failed marriages (yes, in plural) and other relationship issues. If you think you're going to get the dirt in this memoir, you are sadly mistaken. Frankly, it makes for a better rock memoir, as Costello mostly focuses on his musical memories, and what a treasure they are. Now 61, Costello has long left that angry young man-vibe behind, and instead he built himself a remarkable and long-lasting career. I've had the pleasure of seeing Costello in concert a number of times over the years, most recently at the Royal Albert Hall in 2012 on the Return of the Spectacular Spinning Songbook tour. Great show. Last but not least, there is a remarkable new 2 CD best-of compilation out (compiled by Costello himself), specifically to coincide and for use with this memoir, called "Unfaithful Music & Soundtrack", also available here on the store.

I read tons of memoirs but I hadn't read a 'celebrity' memoir in years. Recently however, I've picked up several that are simply outstanding. Chrissie Hynde's "Reckless: My Life As A Pretender" is probably the very best of the lot, although Richard Hell's (of Television) "I Dreamed I Was a Very Clean Tramp" is quite remarkable too. Costello's memoir is a very nice addition to the vast rock-memoir library. If you grew up with his music (as I did), this is simply a must-read. "Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink" is HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!

A fine account of the career of Elvis Costello. Definitely detail is Mr. Costello's strong suit. Costello spends over 600 pages rambling on every moment of his performances, songwriting, relationships with family and colleagues and much more. The relationship with his father is most interesting. Another plus is the wide array of Costello's influences. He has great appreciation for many musical styles such as numerous Big Bands from the 40's and 50's to The Beatles, New Wave compatriots suchas The Clash and even Little Feat. Yes this Elvis was a Featster and his stylings is quite different.

The beginning is a bit disjointed. To much jumping around in different time periods. A simple chronological approach would do. Some of the quotes could be omitted. I appreciate where Elvis has been but this book would be enjoyable with a two hundred page haircut. Nonetheless, the good outweighs the bad.

This book never really draws the reader in. It's too disjointed. No real lead in to the book. It's like you start reading on Chapter Two and wonder what happened to Chapter One. He rambles so much, that you reread it to see where you got lost. He got lost in his thoughts, and he needed to have an editor. I'm really surprised it was even printed in it's present form. He had an interesting life- but suddenly he is married with a kid- No discussion of his wife Mary or where they met or anything. It's like one sentence that he and Mary moved into an apartment. Weird.

Boy was I looking forward to reading this book, but overall I found it uninteresting and not very illuminating. To begin with, it was easily 200 pages too long. There was far too much family background to really get the book started off on the right track. Even though I did find much to value in his coverage in particular of his father, a lot was pretty obscure and fragmented.

He also was too liberal in his use of his own song lyrics, and he used them in a way that distracted me from the text, rather than supported it. Overall, the text has interesting bits about his performances, relationships and songwriting. However, more often than not, he hints at discord or connections with his relationships, collaborators and bandmates, rather than really discussing them. I wanted a more in depth and honest assessment of his times with Cait O'Riordan, Paul McCartney, The Attractions, and even Diana Krall. But those all fell short and didn't give more than a few snapshots of what those key relationships were like. Most of the time, when he did talk about other collaborators and musicians he performed with, I was left with the impression that he was name dropping.

Lastly, the structure itself really betrayed him. His book came across scattered, and frequently new paragraphs were radical tangents, often without a transition or clear reason for departure. It gave the impression of a very haphazard first draft of ideas without much thought of the readers who had to try to sort it out. An editor could have made this book great.

I’m a similar age to Elvis Costello. The influences are the same. Peter Guralnick and Greil Marcus have written best about the country we live in.

And he is a songwriting genius. For 40 years come next year, I have listened to his songs.

Here’s the problem though, and it’s all his fault. For us not so clever people to recognise a clever person, we need them to behave consistently, and to stay where they’re at their best. Or we don’t understand them. And he never has. So we don’t. And it can lose us. (I’ll get to his voice in a minute).

The book solves the problem. He doesn’t care what I think – or what you think. He only cares what he thinks. And he likes hanging out with really cool, creative people, and writing clever songs he likes. He is the ultimate journeyman.

Leonardo da Vinci (not that I’m putting Elvis in that class) had the same problem: He grew up “alone” too, and like Elvis just didn’t care what anyone thought. He was not the best artist, or engineer, or musician, or anatomist of his time. But he could have been the best at most of those disciplines and he knew it - had he cared enough about what people thought to focus on only one thing. Like Leonardo, Elvis has spent a lot of his career in areas where he is not a genius, because he doesn’t care what you think, and so you have to just get that and be selective when collecting him.

To the book: It’s a 5 star book and the reason is that it is as true a reflection about Elvis and his career as it is possible to have. There’s been real work in the making of this. The clever turn of phrase, and the words gliding over the deeper meaning held in each phrase make it read like one long song lyric.

But it’s as charmingly imperfect as the man, and as his whole career is devoted to the imperfection of man, that’s the problem. Why, in all these pages, does it not somewhere submerge closer to the soul of the man? He’s used to allusion, and as he acknowledges himself in the pages, he struggles to speak plainly, and so we go around in a circle on the surface.

We all have our suits of armor, and my criticism is I wish he’d taken his off, at least for a while. A chapter from Pete Thomas and one from Steve Nieve would have been lovely, if not a word from the wives. Otherwise, there is a risk of appearing to be disingenuous.

He wears inspiration on his sleeve as he has done his whole career. Chronicles Vol 1 is his template here, and if you haven’t read it – do. Like much of the non genius parts of Elvis’s career, this book recognizes and works within the style of a person he admires. But that’s no criticism, it’s what he mostly does and he does it very well, and it’s why you should read it.

For the record, I consider When I was Cruel to be one of the greatest records ever made. It sounded like nothing else when it was released, and all these years later still sounds like nothing else. I always wondered how many horn players died in the making of that record.

Like Elvis himself, I wish he had been born with his father’s vocal cords. It would have been very helpful for us all. But at the end of the day, he is a certain kind of genius, and I’m very very thankful to him for that.

An amazing, amusing, and deeply rewarding look into the overactive mind and sometimes dark heart of one of pop music's undeniable originals. Honest and surprisingly revealing, although like with his songs, more is said between the lines than stated outright. As witty and funny as you'd expect, but also very moving when he writes about his family, especially his recently deceased father, Ross MacManus, who was also a successful musician. Not a "rock memoir", but a music memoir. The former Declan Patrick MacManus's lapsed-Catholic moral sensibility runs deep, but his true religion is music and this book shows he's a devoted apostle to that faith.

This is one of the best biography/autobiographies about a musician I've ever read. Costello is a great storyteller and displays his mastery from cover to cover. Honest, heartbreaking, and hilariously funny! A must-read for musicians and music lovers.

Early on in this massive tome, in discussing songs from the magnificent LP Imperial Bedroom, our hero writes: "The songs were very far from a diary, but my misadventures and failings were handed to the characters in the songs for them to live out." That sentence sums up my frustration with Unfaithful Music: you get quite a lot of what EC's misadventures and failings were, but not what they actually MEANT. There is so much information but very little depth. This seems deliberate; Costello is comfortable telling stories and dropping names (and he drops A LOT of names), but he's careful never to really expose himself. Instead, he only shows his true self in his songs. Nothing wrong with that; just leaves the interested fan dissatisfied. It's also consistent with his public persona. I remember being struck watching the short-lived "Spectacle" program by how inept a host EC was. He completely lacked spontaneity, reading his questions from a printed sheet, eliciting nothing major from his guests and offering few of his own thoughts. And then he'd take the stage and absolutely storm through whatever he played.

As a performer EC simply can't be touched. I've seen him solo, with Steve Nieve, with Nick Lowe, with the Attractions, with the Imposters, with the Mingus Jazz Band, with Burt Bacharach and a full orchestra, and even once as an unannounced guest with the Pogues. Every single time he delivers -- probably why so many of the reviewers here are as devoted as I am. Still, it's disappointing that EC's performing persona is all he's willing to share. There is certainly a man behind the man on stage, but he's kept hidden. Hands up -- how many of you have seen Elvis in concert on consecutive nights where he tells the same jokes in exactly the same way? That's how this book comes across -- as lengthy (very lengthy) stage banter that's amusing but sheds little insight into EC's real self.

That doesn't mean it's not a fun read. I kind of like how it jumps around time-wise. This would be very off-putting for people who like their biographies written in a chronological narrative. But, for me, it was kind of like browsing through a record store. You can pick the book up at any point and read something interesting. And, of course, it's as well-written as you'd expect with someone with EC's command of the language. The name-dropping is non-stop and gets old quickly, as does the constant remarking about how much drinking and carousing went on back in the day, but there's tons of new stories to learn about. Also fun to see just how much musical ground EC has covered over the years -- the variety is staggering.

In exchanging comments with another reviewer (who also gave the book 3 stars) I realized what my main issue is with the book: That reviewer saw EC as "a deeply moral man...wracked with guilt." I saw the opposite: EC eloquently copping to his countless infidelities (that were already well known to his dedicated fans, like most of us) in a perfunctory way. There is 10 times as much detail about his forbears' moral precedent than EC's own; he seems to think that by recounting his dad's playing around his own selfish behavior is satisfactorily explained away. I like that EC ended up happily married and, by his account, a dedicated father. He seems to be genuine in his feelings about his parents and grandparents. But, as for insights into Costello's heart and mind -- I still feel like we're only getting the guy we see on stage, but not the man behind the curtain.

I'll close by agreeing with the others that thought this is a fans-only must read. Better written but less informative than, say, Complicated Shadows, although neither gives the reader a window into the man's true thoughts. Add a star if you never knew anything about EC, maybe drop one if you were hoping to find out what it would be like to meet the man himself. And then go listen to the music: biography qualities aside, he's the best post-Beatles songwriter in the business.

Costello is a great artist who created one of the best albums ever made, "King Of America", and a string of five essential albums from 1978-1982. He also, however, has a great sense of entitlement, and addictive personality. His capacity for self-reflection is greater than most artists but is also defensive; just when he is about to open up, he deflects and does not entirely admit responsibility for his misdeeds. His discussion of the "Ray Charles incident" still evades some issues; at the time, he behaved in the aftermath as if he had no obligation to explain himself, and his discussion here still comes over as if he's the victim rather than the perpetrator.

The greatest flaw in this book, however, is the way it refuses to adhere to chronological structure. The reader is jolted from one memory to the next as they appear in Costello's brain rather than in a sequence that makes any biographical sense. Again this comes across to me as a deflection, putting the reader off the scent when he or she might be getting too close to his inner demons.

At 674 pages (paperback version) this is a big book but being this size doesn't mean it is great. Sometimes less is more. A good editor would have cut this in half to make it a more satisfying read. So much seems to be about nothing at all and probably written more for his immediate family than the general public. So the book did not quite work for me.

I didn't know a lot about Elvis Costello but knew he worked with Paul McCartney and had an interesting TV interview show for a while. So for me that was the lure. I think the reader is expected to know more of him than I did however he can write and has notebooks which he obviously put to good use. But he rambles and jumps about which is where he needed someone to use the scissors and give more structure. There are pages though that are very moving such as when he speaks of his father's death.

Obviously he is a man who loves The Beatles and it was interesting reading about his working relationship with the focussed Paul McCartney. Also his work with Bob Dylan where he gives some interesting character notes.

Scattered throughout the pages of this book are lyrics from many of Costello's songs, the majority I'd never read or heard before but I'll be checking them out. Elvis can write but, like his lyrics, he does write too much. Less is more which is probably a good note to end this review. It is probably a 3.5 star than what I was able to post with the store.

I’m a similar age to Elvis Costello. The influences are the same. Peter Guralnick and Greil Marcus have written best about the country we live in.

And he is a songwriting genius. For 40 years come next year, I have listened to his songs.

Here’s the problem though, and it’s all his fault. For us not so clever people to recognise a clever person, we need them to behave consistently, and to stay where they’re at their best. Or we don’t understand them. And he never has. So we don’t. And it can lose us. (I’ll get to his voice in a minute).

The book solves the problem. He doesn’t care what I think – or what you think. He only cares what he thinks. And he likes hanging out with really cool, creative people, and writing clever songs he likes. He is the ultimate journeyman.

Leonardo da Vinci (not that I’m putting Elvis in that class) had the same problem: He grew up “alone” too, and like Elvis just didn’t care what anyone thought. He was not the best artist, or engineer, or musician, or anatomist of his time. But he could have been the best at most of those disciplines and he knew it - had he cared enough about what people thought to focus on only one thing. Like Leonardo, Elvis has spent a lot of his career in areas where he is not a genius, because he doesn’t care what you think, and so you have to just get that and be selective when collecting him.

To the book: It’s a 5 star book and the reason is that it is as true a reflection about Elvis and his career as it is possible to have. There’s been real work in the making of this. The clever turn of phrase, and the words gliding over the deeper meaning held in each phrase make it read like one long song lyric.

But it’s as charmingly imperfect as the man, and as his whole career is devoted to the imperfection of man, that’s the problem. Why, in all these pages, does it not somewhere submerge closer to the soul of the man? He’s used to allusion, and as he acknowledges himself in the pages, he struggles to speak plainly, and so we go around in a circle on the surface.

We all have our suits of armor, and my criticism is I wish he’d taken his off, at least for a while. A chapter from Pete Thomas and one from Steve Nieve would have been lovely, if not a word from the wives. Otherwise, there is a risk of appearing to be disingenuous.

He wears inspiration on his sleeve as he has done his whole career. Chronicles Vol 1 is his template here, and if you haven’t read it – do. Like much of the non genius parts of Elvis’s career, this book recognizes and works within the style of a person he admires. But that’s no criticism, it’s what he mostly does and he does it very well, and it’s why you should read it.

For the record, I consider When I was Cruel to be one of the greatest records ever made. It sounded like nothing else when it was released, and all these years later still sounds like nothing else. I always wondered how many horn players died in the making of that record.

Like Elvis himself, I wish he had been born with his father’s vocal cords. It would have been very helpful for us all. But at the end of the day, he is a certain kind of genius, and I’m very very thankful to him for that.

Patti Smith has set a pretty much impossibly high bar for memoirs, and so most are disappointing. that artistry can be made up somewhat with humor, like Peter Hook, but still, it's easy to bore. I found myself skimming a lot of the early life, which just didn't have anything to distinguish it from a lot of british bios of the time-and I've read a lot of them. The most interesting bits are obviously how he came up with his brilliant songs, and his tastes (besides the obvious R&B: the grateful dead, the band & neil young), and interactions with other musicians (Bob Dylan: "is watching the detectives a real show?" & Johnny Rotten sneering his name from a passing cab). Worth a read, just not really anything groundbreaking.

This book never really draws the reader in. It's too disjointed. No real lead in to the book. It's like you start reading on Chapter Two and wonder what happened to Chapter One. He rambles so much, that you reread it to see where you got lost. He got lost in his thoughts, and he needed to have an editor. I'm really surprised it was even printed in it's present form. He had an interesting life- but suddenly he is married with a kid- No discussion of his wife Mary or where they met or anything. It's like one sentence that he and Mary moved into an apartment. Weird.