If we are all agreed that Elvis Presley is "the king of rock and roll" then what do we call Elvis Costello? Can Costello even be considered a worthy contender for the throne? I don't think so.
And if the general consensus is that Michael Jackson, for all his wicked proclivities, is and forever will be "the king of pop", what shall we say of Jackson Browne or James Brown (the Godfather of soul) or even Bobby Brown, for that matter. Bobby Dylan. Bobby Darin. Bobby Sherman. Sherman tank. Tank tops and turtle sweaters. The Turtles. What a shitty band that was. Turtles and the Spoonful. Two half ass mediocre musical ensembles that we would have been better off having never heard of.
Do not forget, for your life depends on it, that Aretha Franklin holds a regal title that denotes her status as "the queen of soul". She is the real deal. Her royalty was bestowed upon her by an adoring public, not like Queen Latifah, who just decided one day that she wanted to be treated like a queen and so she changed her name.
But where did Elvis Costello get lost in all of this? He didn't. No one even knew he was gone. The man has strayed a long, long ways from where he started and let me tell you, friends, those of us who counted ourselves fans of his early work join together in unison in distancing ourselves from everything he recorded after "Get Happy". All those collaborations with Inglebery Humpersnatch or Brian Wilson tributes or neo-classical music recorded for the Deutsche Grammophone label.
And Jackson Browne? Don't you start me talkin'... I'll tell everything I know...
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