Even the hits fell flat for Elvis Costello at the Royal Albert Hall

“Someone said this is the 32nd time I’ve been on this stage,” Elvis Costello said as he took to the Royal Albert Hall once more. “A couple of those times I was even welcome.” He certainly was on this occasion: the 71-year-old was back in people-pleasing mode – not always a given – and went back to the start with Radio Soul! The Early Songs of Elvis Costello. It’s the period from 1976 to 1986 when the man born Declan McManus established himself as one of the country’s great writers: the image of a bookish anti-rocker angrily, cleverly picking at the scabs of the personal and the political with punkish energy and artful melody.

Yet it’s hard to imagine any of the previous 31 appearances were as wildly inconsistent as this one. He bounded onstage looking none-more-Elvis – blue jacket and waistcoat, blue tinted glasses with gold winklepickers and a fedora that stayed on for all of 30 seconds – and threw himself into an opening salvo: the new wave of “This Year’s Girl” and the rockabilly thrill of “Mystery Dance”.

But even back with his long-standing band The Imposters – featuring two members of his original backing band The Attractions, drummer Pete Thomas and keyboardist Steve Nieve – from my vantage point at least, the sound mix was awful: muddy, undefined, with special guest Charlie Sexton’s guitar largely inaudible. Thomas’s powerhouse playing was central to the sound, and an early take on drum-heavy “Watching the Detectives” adapted well, its noir ska sounding fantastically dark and eerie. But it was an unfortunate issue throughout. Costello’s voice, which had an erratic night, was at times buried far too deep.

Costello’s voice had a mixed evening (Photo: Gus Stewart/Redferns)

Even in the hits, Costello was never going to rest on laurels. His agitation gave the show an edge; there was no stated setlist, with Costello guiding the band through short, improvised jams – the elongated noisescape on “Lovers Walk” was thrilling, and seemed to finally engage a very Monday-night London crowd – while some hits were reworked to varying degrees of success. He moved “Alison,” his majestic ballad, to mid-set after an audience request (“we normally play it and then we all go home, on your head be it”). But it was underpowered and fell flat. Similarly, “Everyday I Write the Book” lost any semblance of its soulful pop in a heavy-handed rendition. He warned us against singing the offensive lyric in “Oliver’s Army”, which Costello has rewritten as “ one more widow, one more pallbearer”. But slowed down, it gained greater poignancy what it lost in urgency.

A beautiful country take on “Good Year for the Roses” was part of a stripped-back mid-set section. The band huddled together for ventures into lounge jazz – which began the devastating piano ballad “Almost Blue” – and Americana, Sexton coming to the fore in the quieter setting. A version of “I Can’t Stand Up for Falling Down” began as an unrecognisable soul reverie, Costello with microphone in hand walking the stage, before the band crashed back in, the starting pistol on a rousing final third.

Costello choked up talking about friends and family – “I might not be getting frail but I’m getting emotional in my old age” he said, pouring that feeling into “Shipbuilding,” his masterpiece anti-war ballad – but overall it was a celebratory finish. The upbeat hits fared better against the sound: “High Fidelity”, “Radio Radio” and a still thrilling “Pump it Up”. After singing “Less Than Zero”, his debut single written in response to the fascist politician Oswald Mosley being given an easy ride by a television journalist, closing with his version of “(What’s So Funny ’Bout) Peace, Love & Understanding” seemed pointed, and of the moment: the early songs of Elvis Costello still relevant 50 years on.

Touring to 6 July