Elvis Costello
– My Aim Is True
Elvis Costello arrived like a man who’d read too many books, worked too many dead-end jobs, and finally figured out how to turn his spite into sound. My Aim Is True isn’t just a debut—it’s a detonation. There’s no band of misfits behind him yet (that’d come soon with The Attractions), just Clover, a borrowed bar band that knew how to keep up but wisely got out of the way. What matters here is the sneer, the sarcasm, and the perfectly unhinged pop instincts behind it all.
Best of…
This is punk rock for people who think too much, or maybe not enough. It’s angry, but it’s smart about it. Every line feels like it was scrawled in the margins of a failed love letter, then weaponized. Costello’s voice—half Buddy Holly, half angry substitute teacher—clashes and croons in all the right ways. And beneath the jittery guitar and pub-rock bounce, the songwriting is laser-sharp: lean, mean, and built for repeat listens.
The beauty of My Aim Is True is in how it doesn’t try to be beautiful. It’s awkward. It stumbles. It seethes. But it means every word. And in a landscape bloated with prog wankery and disco gloss, Costello showed up with a bad attitude and a suit that didn’t fit, singing like his teeth were clenched around every chorus. Sometimes that’s exactly what rock and roll needs.
Choice Tracks
Welcome to the Working Week
A 78-second slap to the face. Short, bitter, and absolutely loaded with frustration. The sarcasm drips, the hook sticks, and the job still sucks.
Alison
A ballad that lures you in with sweetness, then casually breaks your heart in the second verse. Costello doesn’t oversing it—he just lets the knife slide in quiet. Still one of his finest, and one of the most cutting “I miss you” songs ever recorded.
Watching the Detectives
Tacked on in the States, but impossible to ignore. It’s noir-drenched, reggae-tinged paranoia with cinematic flair. A preview of the genre-bending menace Costello had in store, with his voice curling around each line like cigarette smoke.
(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes
Perfect pop with a bitter center. Jangly and bright on the surface, but don’t let that fool you—this is a breakup song dressed up in beat-up sneakers and a crooked grin.
My Aim Is True isn’t polished, and it isn’t polite. But it hits hard, and it sticks. Elvis Costello didn’t just want to be heard—he wanted to make sure you never forgot what he said. Mission accomplished.