“You’re upstairs with the boyfriend while I’m left here to listen,” Costello spits. It’s a bitter tribute to a girl who picked another guy-then rubbed it in his face. It’s one of the more aggressive tracks on the album, exploding with The Who-like guitar heroics and a wall of keys sky-high. “But when they told me about their side of the bargain / That’s when I knew I could not refuse.” Those must be some nice shoes. The track, written on a train traveling from London to Liverpool in 1976, finds angels appearing to offer Costello immortality in exchange for his red shoes: “Since their wings have got rusted / The angels want to wear my red shoes,” he croons.
Costello delivers some of his most impassioned singing, alongside call-and-response vocals from Lowe. “(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes”Ĭlover bassist John Ciambotti used to refer to this tune as the “one that sounds like The Byrds” and he was right. It’s like a New Wave rendition of the band’s twinkling sound from the psychedelic 1960s, opening with weaving guitars and dreamy organ lines. “I thought by now that it was gonna be easy / But she still seems to want for more.” That barroom riff circles back, then lays it on: “Why do you have to say that there’s always someone / Who can do it better than I can?”ħ. “And I’m doing everything tryin’ to please her / Even crawling around on all fours,” Costello barks over charging punk rock.
It’s a kiss-off to a miss-have-it-all that sounds like a Rolling Stones Exile on Main St. tune, complete with a loose honky-tonk riff. Yes, it inspired the title of the infamous 1985 Bret Easton Ellis novel about drugs and depravity in the City of Angels (for no real reason other than the author loved the song, which is understandable: Costello’s “Hey oh way-ah-ayays!” are certainly catchy).
This chugalug track, Costello’s first single for Stiff Records, is about Costello’s disgust with seeing British fascist Oswald Mosley on TV denying his past actions in the 1930s: “Calling Mister Oswald with the Swastika tattoo,” he sings, before alluding that Oswald is shagging his sister and suggests he move to South America along with all the other Nazis. Lyrically, it’s a bitter take on concealing his feelings: “Sneaky feeling, sneaky feelings, you can’t let those kids of feelings show / I’d like to get right through the way I feel for you, but I’ve still got a long way to go.” It’s a hybrid with tricks and turns from various genres, all mish-mashed into a new sound that’s greater than the sum of its parts. “Welcome to the working week / You gotta do it till you’re through it, so you better get to it.”Ī recurring jazz-flecked riff is the highlight of this catchy tune, filled with swinging rhythms and stop-start breaks. Musically, it’s smart-aleck pub-rock with crunchy guitars, clapping drums and Girl Group-style doo-doos and wah-wahs to accompany Costello’s barbs about the ol’ 9 to 5. “Now that your picture’s in the paper being rhythmically admired,” he sings. Costello tells the tale of a murder mystery, then on the bouncy chorus the band pair dub grooves with punk ferocity, driving the keys louder and louder, as Costello yells “shoot, shoot, shoot!” Ĭostello wastes no time laying on the snide in the opening statement of his debut album. Here, Clover prove to be one damn versatile band, shifting to a reggae groove with funky-fun keys and jittery guitar riffs. So… is Alison in Costello’s cross hairs literally or figuratively? Either way, it’s one of his best-known songs and favorite amongst Costello super fans.Ĭostello and Clover reportedly listened to The Clash on repeat while recording My Aim Is True, and it especially shows on the LP’s closing track. Or is it a tribute? Costello whisper-sings, “Sometimes I wish I could stop you from talking / When I hear the silly things that you say” and coos “My aim is true” over and over and over.
A golden-warm, gliding guitar lick-thank you, Clover guitarist John McFee-opens the shimmering, mid-tempo tribute to a young lady. It’s the spiritual centerpiece for the album, with Costello’s sometimes-bitter, always-genius lyrical bite on display.