Declan Patrick MacManus was born August 25, 1954, in St Mary's Hospital, Paddington in London, England, moving to Birkenhead (the birthplace of his father, musician Ronald "Russ" MacManus) with his widowed mother at age 16. He is better known by his stage name, Elvis Costello, a popular British musician, singer, and songwriter of Irish ancestry. Some sources list his full given name as Declan Patrick Aloysius MacManus, however Aloysius was not one of his names at birth, being added years later. Costello was an early participant in London's pub rock scene in the mid-1970s, and alongside Nick Loweand Ian Durymade his first releases on the independant label Stiff, tailoring his work towards the punkand new wavescenes. From 1980's Armed Forcesonwards, however, other influences including soul, country, 60s pop and classical music began to re-emerge, and he soon became established as a unique and original voice.
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A Town Called Big Nothing (Really Big Nothing) Lyrics
Elvis Costello
Big nothing.
He stood in the road outside of town with a broken clockwork toy in
His hand: a graveyard for childish dreams in his palm; a broken lifeline.
Big nothing.
The mechanical amusement sputtered in his fist. as he clenched, it
Whirred and died again. it was a cowboy who drew his gun, but the
Pistol was welded to the holster by age and careless children, so it
Struggled and strained and it unwound his own spring.
Big nothing.
He didn't need tattoos to show where he had been and who he had loved. it
Was the same thing that men had cried for; that women had dyed their hair
For. the cellophane illusion of a starry sky stretched over an open sore.
Big nothing.
He thought about his lost daughter: the way her eyes would alight at the
Greedy circus barker's blackmail song; how he wanted to smash her skull
When she parroted back, 'tell mommy; tell poppy; you need this little
Dolly.'
Big nothing. (x2)
The smoky voice of the petaled girl woke him long enough. there was too
Much light in the room, so he unscrewed the bulb. she took him to bed like
An adopted dog.
Big nothing.
She lit sickly incense, as he tried to tell if the resemblance was pure
And coincidental. he unleashed his grip on the toy, all it meant to him,
And it wound down forever.
Big nothing.
He woke up in a sweat. the next day, with her smile still painted on his
Mouth, he walked out of a town called big nothing.
Big nothing. (repeat until fade)