54 ............... Friday, November 6, 2015 1SM

ANDREWWASYLYKWHERE: Dundee.FOR FANS OF: Richard Haw-ley, Elbow, Adele.JIM SAYS: Andrew Wasylykmay not yet be a familiarname — he’s better known asAndrew Mitchell — but he’sbeen involved in nine albumsin the past decade.

As well as his debut soloalbum out today, he frontsDundee band The HazeyJanes. He’s also part of theduo Art Of The Memory Pal-ace, and since last year he’sbeen playing bass with Scotsfavourites Idlewild.

Along the way he’s alsoappeared with The ElectricSoft Parade, Michael Marraand School of Language.

Wasylyk is actually the fam-ily name. He explained: “Dur-ing the writing of the album Ibegan toying with the ideathat these songs would besung from a character’s pointof view, or an alias.

“After my parents partedways I switched to mymother’s maiden name,Mitchell, but started contem-plating dusting downWasylyk.

“My grandfather, IwanWasylyk, was born in Soroky,in Ukraine’s wild west. Itseemed like a nice way to cel-ebrate the past.”

In a further tribute to hisgrandfather, his album iscalled Soroky.

Recorded over just fivedays on the Isle Of Mull, it’s asublime record, referencingbaroque pop of the 60s. Alsoweaving between soaring

ELVISCOSTELLOUnfaithfulMusic&

DisappearingInk(book)

By SIMON COSYNS

IN 1977, there was areal buzz around thesharp-dressed singer withthe black horn-rims anda head full of attitude.

Punk had come kicking andscreaming on to the scene butsingle-minded Elvis Costello didn’tconsider himself part of anymovement.

“Only the really bad groupsaligned themselves,” he saystoday. “They did it instead ofhaving an idea.

“All the original people hadsingular ideals . . . The Clash forsure, even The Jam.

“Joe Strummer was great and,whenever our paths crossed, I knewhe was made of the right stuff.

“The first time I saw PaulWeller, I thought, ‘He’s completelyone of a kind’.”

Costello, of course, is anothertrue one-off and thanks to his dadand grandad, both singers, allkinds of music are embedded inhis DNA.

Back then, however, it felt likethe arrival of a classic “angryyoung man” armed with pithylyrics and an uncompromisingsound.

‘Saying inflammatorythings got me attention’Even his bitter love song I’m

Not Angry from debut album MyAim Is True was actually pretty,ahem, angry.

“I was angry about everything,”he admits. “I was emphatic aboutwhat I was saying and I still am.”

Beneath the surface, the manborn Declan Patrick MacManuswas a thoughtful, multidimensionalartist.

Now he’s happy to shed light onhis younger self: “They were notall just ‘I’m angry about this orthat’ songs. They have a lot moretenderness or a lot morecomplexity.

“Read the lyrics, read them,” heimplores me before rattling offlines from This Year’s Girl, a songfrom his second album, 1978’s ThisYear’s Model, the first with TheAttractions.

“See her picture in a thousandplaces, ’cause she’s this year’sgirl.’

He pauses before continuing:“Forget your fancy manners, forgetyour English grammar, ’cause youdon’t really give a damn.”

Costello says: “That’s not hatred.That’s pointing at someone andsaying to them, ‘You’re looking ather like that, the problem’s just inyour head.

“But you want to hear angry?Listen to Mighty Like A Rose (hisdark 13th studio album from 1991),that’s an angry record. It’s all inthe lyrics though.”

I’m sitting with 61-year-oldCostello in a small coffee shop notfar from the main drag ofKnightsbridge in West London.

We’re thousands of miles fromhis home in Vancouver, Canada,where he lives with his wife, thejazz pianist and singer DianaKrall, and their twin sons Dexterand Frank.

The trademark hat and glassesare present and correct. Up close,across a small table, it feels as ifthe years have been kind to thismusic titan.

The purpose of our rendezvousis to discuss his rollickingautobiography, a weighty tome of670 pages, called Unfaithful Music& Disappearing Ink.

For an hour, I get the chance topeel away the layers of an artistwith one of the longest and mostvaried careers in music.

We get on to the subject of his“angry” early image becausethere’s a hilarious description inthe book of Costello’sencounter with a seedy Red Topreporter (not from The Sun, Ihasten to add).

All the writer cares about is“the girrrls” that might bethrowing themselves in front ofthe budding pop star. “He was

really like a Paul Whitehousecharacter,” says Costello. “I wasfairly naive and, at 22, hadn’t beenout in the world enough to havethese lurid experiences. It was justfarcical to ask me that stuff.

“I learned quickly though. Istarted saying a bunch ofinflammatory things. I thought,‘Wow! That works. What, theyreally bought that? That’sunbelievable! Let’s do some moreof that. Maybe this could be thesmokescreen behind which I canwork’.

“Though I had perfectly goodsongs, I realised I needed tospeak up a bit more and notassume I’d get people’s attention.

“Most of the musicians I likedhad won themselves an audience.Randy Newman would do thesefunny little asides and peoplewere there hanging on his everyword.

“I hadn’t won the right toexpect that yet, even if all thesongs I wrote were imagining hiskind of audience.

“Some songs I sing now in myconcerts are the ones I wroteimmediately before (debut album)

My Aim Is True and there’s acouple that require me to havean audience who are preparedto listen.”

Over the decades, musicchameleon Costello has gone waybeyond the constraints of bogstandard pop and rock.

A mere four years after hisdebut album, he wrote a countrymusic album, Almost Blue.

‘I’d jump around with acardboard guitar’

In the late Nineties, he made afine record with the greatAmerican songwriter BurtBacharach called Painted FromMemory, and there’s more to comefrom that partnership.

Then there’s his work withclassical ensemble The BrodskyQuartet, his ballet score Il Sogno,and his album with New Orleansjazz pianist Allen Toussaint.

His latest offering even findshim collaborating with Questloveof hip-hop outfit The Roots.

A key reason for such widevariation springs from Costello’supbringing, first in humble rented

accommodation in Olympia andthen at a more salubriousmaisonette in Hounslow under theHeathrow flight path.

His beloved dad RossMacManus, vocalist and trumpetplayer with the Joe Loss Orchestrain the Fifties and Sixties,would practise in front of theyoung Declan.

In his book, Costello vividlydescribes how he was morelikely to hear emotionally wroughtsongs by Ella Fitzgerald or FrankSinatra than Bill Haley’s RockAround The Clock, which lefthim “cold”.

He tells me: “My folks weren’tthat well-off but my dad made adecent income. The records myparents listened to for pleasurewere just on in the house andbecame as familiar as a chair ora pattern on the curtains.

“I didn’t ponder them orunderstand them when I was achild but they stuck inside me.

“I was familiar with The WeeSmall Hours Of The Morning butonly when you’ve lived the lifethat’s in the song, you go, ‘Ohthat’s what it’s about.’ Maybe I5

orchestral landscapes, folkand indie rock, the constant isAndrew’s stunning vocals.

They’ve been likened toScott Walker, Randy Newmanand fellow Dundonian, thelate, great Billy Mackenzie.

He said: “Someone saidthe record had elements ofMercury Rev and Aztec Cam-era recently. I’ll take that.”

Like myself, Andrew followsDundee FC, but he takes thesongs on tour for the first timethis month with a famousDundee United fan, DeaconBlue’s Ricky Ross.

He said: “Ricky’s very kindlylet me tag along. The HazeyJanes opened for DeaconBlue across the UK in 2013.They’re great people and a lotof fun. As we’re from differentsides of Tannadice Streetthough, when it comes tofootball there’s plenty for usto discuss backstage.”

The tour starts on Sundayat the Queen’s Hall in Edin-burgh before taking in Aber-deen, Dundee and Glasgow,followed by gigs south of theborder.

Andrew Wasylyk’s Soroky isout now to download, or aslimited edition vinyl.MORE: wasylyk.co.uklJim presents a weeklyshowcase of New Music onAmazing Radio Sundays2-4pm. amazingradio.comjimgellatly.com

NEWMUSICBy JimGellatly

Watch videoof Andrewat:

thescottishsun.co.uk