Album Reviews

The first Costello album backed by The Attractions released in March, 1978 on Radar in the UK and Columbia in America (with differing song lineups) cemented the singer’s leadership in the “angry young man” wing of the late ‘70’s “New Wave” musical explosion. More than expressing anger, the album was a full-blown misogynist outburst that contains some really nasty stuff starting with the opener “No Action,” which is filled some deliciously ugly obsessive/compulsive sentiments. The actor is obsessed with a former girlfriend he calls “just friends,” but with whom he’s clearly still stuck on despite his protestations to the contrary. He says that every time he phones her he wants to “put her down,” which can have numerous meanings, none pleasant. He admits to feeling better when he bothers her on the phone. As long as he’s “inserting his coins” (in those pre-cell phone days) he’s doing fine and the thoughts in his head stop hurting his mind, though when he "thinks about the way things used to be, knowing you’re with him” still drives him crazy. He admits that sometimes he calls her when he knows she’s not alone, but pats himself on the back for disconnecting in time. What an achievement! Yes, the album opens with a dark, demented song but Pete Thomas’s propulsive drumming and Steve Nieve’s carnival-like electric organ lend it a deceptively festive beat. The title tune about the travails of the media’s current female obsession shows the subject some sympathy, beneath which is more nastiness about the insatiable appetite of both the media and consumer fantasies. The lustees are seen as both love-obsessed and somehow desirous of their object's personal destruction ( the erotic fantasy of “You see yourself rolling round on the carpet” and the hideous imagery of “you want her broken with her mouth wide open”). By the end of the second song, a careful listener should be emotionally drained; a casual one exhilarated. That’s how the album works. The deeper you dig, the darker it gets. Skim the surface and it’s a dance party! You can fixate on the obsessiveness of the Beatlesque/garage band-ish “You Belong to Me” or the sexual heat in the “pleasure center” of “Pump It Up,” but wherever you turn on this album, you’ll feel the heat! It hasn’t lost a degree in more than thirty years. Mobile Fidelity boldly chose to go with the original Radar faux “mistake” cover (I lent them my original UK Radar for the cover art and for a sonic check) showing the color bar along the right jacket edge and putting the “E” in Elvis and the “T” in This Year’s Model on the spine instead of on the front cover as if the paper had been pasted on the cardboard off center. Columbia was afraid Americans would be too dense to get the joke and return the album as defective, so the U.S. version “corrects” the joke. The same thing happened on Get Happy! where the cover artist applied fake “ring wear” on front and back of the original UK cover and Columbia removed it for the same reason. However, Mo-Fi went with the original American song lineup that omits “(I don’t want to go to) Chelsea,” probably because Columbia thought the reference to the area of London too obscure (thereby depriving Americans of the hilarious rhyme line about a girl looking like Elsie) and “Night Rally,” substituting the single “Radio Radio” that Costello sang on “Saturday Night Live” in what was purported to be a quick on stage shift from what was rehearsed but which looked quite staged. While I would never bet against a George “Porky” Peckham mastering, Mobile Fidelity has bettered the original but you might not think so first play if you have an original UK pressing. If you’ve only heard the mediocre American original, you’ll be immediately impressed. The original UK is “punchy” in the compressed sense but Mo-Fi’s remaster is really punchy, with very good dynamics and particularly impressive low level detail resolution in exchange for less compression. A definitely worthwhile trade-off! They’ve kept the tonal balance remarkably similar to the original, recorded mostly in a small studio outside of London and produced by Nick Lowe, which means it's not exactly sweet sounding, nor should it be. I’ve got every original LP and CD remaster from Ryko to Rhino and this one beats them all by a significant margin. I don’t care how long you’ve been listening to this classic, you’re sure to hear new details, while most of what you already know will sound more transparent and life-like than you might have thought possible from what is admittedly not an “audiophile quality” recording. It was obviously a very good recording though, and it’s never sounded better. Musically, This Year’s Model is as disturbing and rocking as it was the day it was first released and well worth a great AAA reissue like this one.