Word: bedrooms
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...Sherman Oaks, Calif., to the Galleria in White Plains, N. Y. (Minis and ruffles, short pants and denim jackets with the collar turned up and cuffs rolled back are in.) Top status possessions are a horse, a health-club membership and a monthly clothing allowance. A rilly killer bedroom has a waterbed, little baskets full of cosmetics, a mega sound system, wind chimes, posters of favorite bands and, of course, a private phone. All PAVs dream of arriving at the beach in awesome cruisemobiles like Mercedes and Rabbit convertibles, but sometimes are reduced to taking the bus or being chauffeured...
...takes her on a date to church-such are the idealist's hopes for a spiritually healthy postwar Germany-and falls in love with her. The Blue Angel trajectory is established: Von Bohm must discover, understand, compromise, surrender. Fassbinder has lighted this ordinary nightmare as if every boardroom, bedroom and bathroom were on the top floor of the worst little whorehouse in Bavaria: neon pinks and oranges in the toilets, navy blue seats against a sick-yellow wall, clashing as grotesquely as the local big shots do against the righteous Von Bohm. Their avarice is petty bourgeois, the stuff...
...blind, ignorant nigger" in a misbegotten effort to outrage his adversaries. Most recently, if you've been paying close attention, you hear that E.C. has recently "matured and has metamorphosed into the the Cole Porter of the 80s," has created the "new Seargent Pepper" with his new album, Imperial Bedroom, and is generally considered these days the Mr. Wonderful of contemporary...
Costello did a masterful job keeping the critics guessing and shifting gears, but they finally thought they got him pinned down on Imperial Bedroom. They...
...IMPERIAL BEDROOM is a remarkable album, not in what it accomplishes for today, but in what it promises for the future. Of all Costello albums, it is easily the most inaccessible, as Elvis oftentimes suffers from that dreaded malady diagnosed by Robert Christgau as the "Jackson Browne syndrome"--boringness. You must listen to this record repeatedly and almost painstakingly to appreciate the full flavor of the minutiae and detail Costello has packed. It's worth the effort, but you have to sweat mighty hard to get there...