"Trust" arrives like a flurry of punches, pinning back your ears as it pins you to the ropes; ducking one punch, you walk into another.

Some of the individual blows might lack a decisive impact, but the final combination puts you down for the count. Time was when Elvis would've left you on your knees, bleeding into your tears. "Trust" holds out its hand, hauls you back on your feet. Costello's vision is as fierce as ever, but the malice has gone; he can still rage, but he no longer scolds….

Having his albums around the house and playing them so often is still like having someone's abrasive conscience as a lodger though. No doubt, Elvis will remain too acerbic for comfortable popular consumption….

This could explain the outrageous lack of notice suffered by "Clubland" (presently raging up the chart with an anvil around its neck). Taut contemporary lyricism set to an epic beat, "Clubland" is one of Costello's finest ever shots, and works effectively as a giddy introduction to "Trust"….

"Clubland" is just too close to the bone; it has the muddy impetus of actuality. It's a perfect example of Costello panning across the social landscape and zooming in to expose the devious twists of our common lives, the duplicities, emotional conspiracies and petty humiliations that eventually provoke extreme reactions. Here, it's the flight into crime, looking for status, independence, recognition.

"Clubland" is also a brilliant rock-noir song (up there with "Watching The Detectives" and John Cale's "Gun"), its drama drawn from its atmosphere, its sinister shadows rather than any clear narrative progression. It bristles with marvellous images; "Clubland" has more quoteable lines than most albums have good songs.

And that points to another of Costello's problems as far as some confused spectators and innocent bystanders are concerned: he's so damned prolific. His songs are full of ideas, and there are so many songs; 20 on "Get Happy!!", another 14 here: it makes people so suspicious. Someone must be getting duped somewhere along the line, surely?

The simple truth is that Costello does have a lot to say, and his talent is articulate enough to express every fleeting emotion, image or thought that attracts his attention, to turn them into songs that are often uncommonly memorable…. Elvis keeps his lip clipped, commits his energies to songwriting and gets away with murder.

A professional songwriter, heir to a tradition broader than most rock 'n' roll writers can accommodate, Costello writes well about virtually anything. His songs are rarely as confessional as they appear. Hence the versatility of his writing, the variety of musical settings and styles he deploys. He's an investigative songwriter, probably the best in rock. He owes allegiance only to his own vocation as a songwriter: that's maybe another reason he worries some people.

You have to advance towards his songs; they know where they stand, and they stay there. If you want to know more about them—and by implication him—it's your initiative, pal. Get inside them, do some work; start thinking. You don't even have to agree with what he's saying. Costello's songs seem to like nothing better than a good argument: they're meant to sting you into reacting.

It's this quality that convinces you that there's a real voice on the end of the line; someone who's put some real thought into the grooves; someone who treats his songs as a dialogue. His best songs are examples, perhaps, of what he describes on "You'll Never Be A Man" as "the physical art of conversation"….

You can believe that after finishing an album like "Trust", Costello's got nothing left in his mouth but the sweat on his gums.

"Trust" is the work of someone who takes himself and his audience very seriously. He won't be looked up to, he won't talk down to you. There are familiar themes pursued on "Trust", but increasingly his emotional concerns are placed in a broader social context.

Fortunately, we're spared the glib social ironies of "Armed Forces", the flippant wisecracks and cheap shots of "Senior Service" and "Goon Squad". The points here are harder won, the observations are more touching, tinged with a bruised humour, more human. It's the concerned commentary of, say, "Opportunity", than the glossy tirades of "Armed Forces"; there's less of that album's disgust, more of the last record's compassion.

"You'll Never Be A Man" has steely tenderness that three years ago would've appeared as bitter rage. A study of someone Costello clearly thinks fails to stand up to the world, it … opens up to a glorious, tumbling chorus that's currently among my favourite moments in his music….

"Watch Your Step" is another current favourite. Its premonition of universal conspiracies, in which families spy on each other, and are in turn watched over by a superior authority is familiar from "Armed Forces" (notably "Green Shirt"). Initially, Costello is wry, almost casual.

The mood, however, grows darker over the closing verses as he anticipates the mindlessly violent consequence of brutal intolerance….

Invasion of privacy and the manipulation of the individual by outside agencies (one of Costello's greatest fears) has been approached earlier on "Strict Time", a shuddering spasm of a track…. The lyric finds Costello effortlessly sharp….

"Different Finger" is Elvis nodding toward country music. A direct descendant of "Stranger In The House" and a distant relative of "Motel Matches", it's further evidence of his formidable range. [It is as] good as anything heard recently from Nashville….

"New Lace Sleeves" is an immediate candidate for the higher echelons of Costello's repertoire. Built around a halting rhythm nudge, the song opens with a painfully accurate account of a soured love affair….

Voice and writing reach a peak with this verse: "The salty lips of the socialite sisters / with their continental fingers / that have never seen working blisters / oh, I know they have their problems—I wish I was one of them."

Costello wriggles through the lines and rhymes, drawing out the greatest emphasis, the final line driven in with a slow twist; like a knife in the side, gleefully malevolent, savouring the careful ambiguity….

Finally: "Big Sister's Clothes", an ominous echo of "Night Rally".

"Sheep to the slaughter," Elvis swoons over a light, jazz-inflected shuffle, popping bass and twanging guitar, "all your sons and daughters / in a stranglehold with a kid's glove …"….

[The] song fades, a nightmare vision in a little over two minutes, a sombre conclusion.

If there are such dark days ahead, maybe only "Trust" will see you through.

Allan Jones, "The Physical Art of Conversation," in Melody Maker (© IPC Business Press Ltd.), January 24, 1981, p. 18.