It can be kind of intimidating to just jump into the oeuvre of an artist like Elvis Costello. It's like playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey, but the wonderful old donkey has magic powers that let him move from one decade to the next - he's hard to get a handle on. Honestly, record reviews don't always help that much, when there is such a wealth from which to choose: recommending that you to stay away from this or that album, because it didn't live up to something else recorded fifteen years ago is kind of pointless if your only frames of reference are "Alison", and that controversial SNL clip somebody put up on YouTube. These things render Elvis Costello familiar to a good many people, but only superficially so. They might lead you to conclude that he is intriguing, awesome and has more culturally significant moments in music history that a lot of other people ever will, but they don't actually provide much in the way of meaningful direction. Suddenly selecting which album to start with becomes an honest-to-god serious task - like a commitment that fills you with a mild trepidation. If you pick the wrong item on a menu that vast you might never want to go to that particular restaurant again, you know? And you're kind of aware that you might be missing out on something awesome if you do that.
Thankfully, Momofuku is one of those albums you can just jump into. The album, sharing a name with the inventor of the Pot Noodle, proves that sometimes the simple, uncomplicated things are the most satisfying. The Imposters' - Steve Nieve (piano and organ), Pete Thomas (drums) and Davey Faragher (bass) - and the guests which appear on this album including Thomas' daughter Tennesee, Jonathan Rice, and Rilo Kiley's Jenny Lewis, conspire to present a melodious hodgepodge of simply classic-sounding songs that showcases crisp, clear songwriting and clever lyrics. It's the effortless, undressed quality of the album that makes it so appealing. Outgoing and assertive in parts, ponderous and reflective in others, Momofuku is always stripped down and straightforward, from the performances to the production. It's an album that pushes and pulls the listener from track to track, creating and maintaining that perfect tension that lets it stand up to repeated listening. The attraction is instant, and it really is that simple.
Standout tracks "No Hiding Place," "American Gangster Time," and "Stella Hurt" are snarly, rollicking good romps that show Elvis Costello and the Imposters at their seemingly effortless best. Elvis sound like a grizzly old goat, and it's perfect for the spirited piss-and-vinegar commentary on the grubbiness of contemporary life these songs deliver.
"Harry Worth" relays the age-old story of fools in love in such a gently embittered fashion you can't help but appreciate the hotel bar atmosphere it conjurers, with it's expertly cheesy turns about the keyboard. This is the background music you know you should be paying attention to, because to geezer is imparting some worthwhile home truths about the honeymoon being over. "It's not very far/ from tears to mirth," indeed.
"Flutter and Wow" and "My Three Sons" are simple soulful ballads, sweeping and sentimental without being crushingly so, and "Pardon Me, Madam, My Name is Eve" establishes for the umpteenth time just how good Elvis is at effortlessly capturing a rich fully developed narrative and cramming it into a single song for you to flesh out at your leisure.
Great melodies, expertly crafted and delivered, Momofuku lets you know you're in the hands of a humble master who can let his work speak for itself.
