3.3 - Well, it looks like my reluctant tour of Costello's catalog has finally, FINALLY come to a close. It's mostly felt like how I imagine it might feel to visit a museum exhibition of the Green Bay Packers with father-in-law. It's well done and mass appealing. But, good God, you couldn't force me to give a flying fuck! I hope to never hear another note of Elvis Costello besides, maybe, a few cuts off of "My Aim is True."