Despite the decades of acclaim, there is not enough praise for Elvis Costello. What he achieved with his second album, This Year’s Model, is to tap into a revolutionary, post-punk sound which is still fresh today. Few can say they have done that once, let alone the countless times Costello and The Attractions did it throughout the 1970s and, to a lesser extent, the 1980s. Costello was always pivoting to new genre expressions, and while his earliest works are his most spirited and honest new wave outings, there was much to love in the releases to come. All of that, though, is built on the steady ground of all-time great songs like This Year’s Girl, Pump It Up, and Lipstick Vogue. He had as proficient an output of quality songs in frequent bursts as The Beatles, but with an of-the-moment energy which makes This Year’s Model one of the most thrilling listens around.
His energetic delivery across This Year’s Model is not just a continuation of his debut style on My Aim is True, but a style which still defines him. Punchy, breathless, and filled with satirical kicks against the world around him. All of this is contained in a friendly and accessible three-minute average from song to song. It’s not the attention deficit at play but a regard for the striking simplicity hidden at the core of these songs. No Action has a tempo which quickens not just the guitar work but the urgency of the message. Strip that down on follow-up song This Year’s Girl, and as simple a concept as tempo control becomes a masterstroke for the meaning of the album. Forget the old style and push for the Americanised influence which had romanced The Rolling Stones away from the UK. Costello went as far as to note Aftermath from The Stones as an influence on This Year’s Model. You can hear as much in songs made for an energetic frontman, cutting shapes across the stage to underscore the defiance.
Costello was not much of a dancer, though, and thankfully, he can offset this. His guitar playing throughout is nothing short of brilliant. His long-lasting relationship with keyboardist Steve Nieve is cemented here with some excellent work from the latter. It brings to life the somewhat slower songs, the lyrically focused pieces like The Beat. The Attractions’ instrumental style steals the spotlight from Costello as a lyricist sometimes, though it is worth noting that This Year’s Model is the continuation of written brilliance. Punchy, repetitive, and memorable pieces are what keep (I Don’t Want to Go To) Chelsea and Pump It Up thriving, but there are moments for contemplative, seedier and punk-sounding pieces like Lipstick Vogue and You Belong to Me. That rapid delivery is not in service of the lyrics but the punk scene. It marks This Year’s Model as an influential powerhouse that would shape decades of alternative scene music.
From Pixies to Pulp, there is a long-lasting influence from This Year’s Model has on the very best. It comes from that insistence of urgency paired with socially poised lyrics. Few can pair it as well as Costello, who deserves those Bob Dylan comparisons. Everyday life is adapted to the likes of You Belong to Me and Little Triggers, and that is where the main strength of This Year’s Model can be found, in the everyday. Costello ties the workingmen’s social clubs he first played in with the changing times. It was not a classist record, but these songs are rooted in the communal values of the working class, of those pushing against a culture which valued careerism and conniving over close ties. This Year’s Model, like any great punk record, remains relevant.
