Rummaging through bins of throwaway singles, compilation records and forgotten releases is a treat. There is no way of knowing what you will find. In this mix is a remarkable consistency. Artists who are known for one or two songs, in particular, tend to be thrown to the front of these stacks. What else do they have? Elvis Costello set off to find out with Kojak Variety, an album inspired by his desire to get to know artists better through songs which were never hits. He is a man with plenty of his own, and ironically Kojak Variety is not one of them. A covers album from the man who has done it all feels, at best, neat. It is so much more than that – a deep dive into the records and artists who inspired him.
It is a full-circle experience. A chance to learn more of Costello not through his own words but through musicians of a similar calibre. Worlds apart the likes of Willie Dixon and The Supremes may be, their influence on a sound which would become the popular theme of the 1970s and 1980s is huge. Kojak Variety pays them their well-deserved dues and finds space still to make a nod to the unlikeliest of singers. Cilla Black cover I’ve Been Wrong Before stands as the best example of which influences Costello is chasing. Thirty years on from this album and it still settles as an intense explanation of his formative years. His presence on the stage last year in intimate venues across the globe, playing from his songbook, is another key step in understanding these reasons for throwback albums.
An album which made its way into the hands and ears of the public four years after its recording, Kojak Variety was given time to marinate. What happens is a left-field piece of work, where the covers are not just inconsistent but completely volatile. Opener Strange, the Screamin’ Jay Hawkins cover, is as its title suggests, peculiar. So too are the covers to follow but with the hoarse style Costello deployed during this period and the big band appeal of Remove This Doubt, it is hard not to find some love for Kojak Variety. Crucial to this release is the pursuit of these covers. Artists have taken to covering their own work, re-evaluating the position they held. U2 and Neil Young do this most of all, but there is a similar sense of self-discovery from Costello on Kojak Variety, even if it does not feature any songs written by the man behind Pump it Up.
Rich instrumental talent is crucial to a risky cover collection. It is no small feat to try your hand at a Bob Dylan song but I Threw It All Away is studied with the same precarious and punk-like sound Costello still feels for in times of danger, when the spotlight may reveal something fiery. Even those well-known names are reduced to their oddities and special pieces. Nashville Skyline, early cuts of The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society and 1930s pop standards all come together to form a listening experience which replicates the process Costello used to filter this list of songs. We sift through the covers as we do a record store bin. He reaches deep into the value bin of artists known for this song or that performance and, like any great music fan, pulls the thread which leads to their deepest and darkest songs.
Blues covers make up much of Kojak Variety – but that is not to say it is a bluesy album. Costello has already detailed those charms before but here, the instrumental variations offered to songs like Everybody’s Crying Mercy from Mose Allison, are remarkable. So too is it stunning for I’ve Been Wrong Before. Reading the words “a cover of Cilla Black” remains a shock but it is impossible to avoid the titan-like appearance the late TV show host had in the UK. Costello finds some joy in this Randy Newman-penned piece, and it is no surprise that the likes of Burt Bacharach feature later too with a cover of The Drifters’ Please Stay. Key to all of these moments is there is no desire to chase the popular tone. These are thorough deep cuts from artists remembered more for a single song than their collected works.
It remains an uncomfortable fate for many musicians and, in the case of Costello, he singlehandedly champions the forgotten few. Kojak Variety is not just a strong and carefully assembled covers collection, but its lack of theme and overriding tone leaves the band with enough space to experiment. Swinging likes of Bama Lama Bama Loo comes right after the tender perspective shown on I’ve Been Wrong Before. Instrumentally exceptional works swing on through and keep that intensity thriving. If it is not swinging piano efforts, it is a dedicated Costello, whose vocal inflictions are possessed with a passion beyond compare. This is not a project of non-stop dazzling charms but Kojak Variety does well to hide a few of the crises overflowing.
More than anything, it fails to be what 28 Little Bangers from Richard Hawley would be. A collection of classic songs pieced together with the same care given to those now-abandoned diner jukeboxes. Costello sounds fantastic throughout and though he does not quite hit the mark of the diner-style he is trying to mould with covers of The Very Thought of You or Running Out of Fools, he does present a masterful understanding of what makes these songs a thrill. We must dig deeper into the artists we vaguely know. To discover something wild and off the beaten path in any walk of culture is to experience it truly, with depth and scope for the future. Costello does this. He sifts through the leftovers to see what may inspire or inform his next steps and, say what you will about its release, this off-handed throwaway four years after recording, its end result and concept is truly heartwarming.
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