Elvis Costello - National Ransacking of the Treasury

It's rather ironic that Elvis Costello, a man so essentially British, has somehow risen as one of the primary protectors of the American history of music. He'd already staked his claim toward this position back in 1986 with the release of King of America, which, like Exile on Main Street before it, seemed to affirm that the Brits really understood America better than most Americans. But King of America was viewed more as a digression from his normal affairs, it was, after all, followed up by the scattered Spike. But while it was somewhat ignored at the time, Americana persisted in Costello, manifesting itself thrice in the 21st century in the albums The Delivery Man, Secret, Profane, and Sugarcane, and National Ransom.

With these albums, Costello seems to have entrenched himself alongside Emmylou Harris and Levon Helm, as some bastion of America in music. Last night, on The Colbert Report, Costello appeared alongside Harris and Don Fleming to discuss American folk music. It should be noted that folk is, by definition, the point from which American music begins, and, as a result of that, one of the most truly American genres of music in existence. Costello's worked with a veritable who's who of Americana, and somehow has found himself as one of its foremost revivalists.

In concert, Elvis Costello is not a country-western performer. He doesn't sing slow, twangy ballads. He doesn't put on a stomping bluegrass show (although he did, for a while, mostly because he could). No, Elvis Costello is a rock and roll performer. Country, folk, bluegrass, the old American music isn't what he is, it's just something he can do, and as a result, it means he introduces the old America to a new audience. He's like the Jack White, for an older audience.

Now, the real question here isn't how Costello came to reach this rather odd position, but why. What possessed this most assuredly un-American man to pick up a musical textbook and wander through history the way he did? Well, aside from what I assume to be an overabundance of curiosity, it would seem that the answer is quite simple: the music. The music is good, the music is powerful, the music spoke to Costello in a way so universal that nationality no longer mattered, all that mattered was the music.

And I say amen to that.