Book review: Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink
ELVIS COSTELLO performed at the 1977 Bilzen festival in Belgium. The day after his gig, nursing a nasty, Pernod-induced hangover, he spread himself over three seats at the back of a bus en route to a ferry back to England and dozed off. He awoke to find his shoelaces on fire and his mouth full of ashes, courtesy of a couple of pranksters from The Damned.
It is one of many tales he tells against himself in his memoir, Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink. It’s a pleasant surprise for anyone who is only familiar with his surly, smartarse public persona to discover he is so self-effacing. He jokes about the fact that his band’s singles always seemed to go down the charts after an appearance on Top of the Pops because once the audience got a look at them, they liked ’em a lot less.
