He's enjoyed a career spanning six decades, written songs with Paul McCartney, performed with Roy Orbison and been ranked the 80th greatest artist of all time by Rolling Stone magazine.
But it's unlikely the famous Buddy Holly-lookalike on stage has ever performed in circumstances quite like this.
With shows and events falling victim to the coronavirus and the Cobra committee with each passing hour, a thousand or so middle-aged Elvis Costello fans are gathered in the luxurious surroundings of the Palace Theatre to self-isolate themselves from the growing sense of panic outside.
Whether attending the concert at all is a good idea or not is open to debate, but when the tour is called the Just Trust Elvis Costello, what are you going to do?
"How have you been?" he asks after taking to the stage, admitting the question gets more and more poignant by the minute. "We didn't expect we would be with you tonight."
Still he doesn't seem overly concerned.
There are no face masks in the crowd and there's plenty of loo roll in the gents, and while there is a small queue for the hand gel, there's also palpable sense of determination among the crowd to enjoy the night...with a half expectation that men in CSI coats could storm in and shut things down at any moment.
And Elvis makes sure we get our money's worth before we all head off into confinement with just a few LPs for company.
Twenty-four songs, covering a multitude of genres are rolled out over a blistering two-hour set.
As you'd expect from a man who'd to take the name of the King, he's not uncomfortable in the limelight, lapping up the rapturous reception and striking up an easy rapport with the locals, throwing in a few Hillary Clinton-eque finger points to individuals in the audience for good measure.
The show kicks off with Strict Time, which in all honesty is not strictly in time, but things tighten up with the Latin rhythm-infused Clubland, which follows it.
Poor Elvis is clearly still reeling from his beloved Liverpool being dumped out of Europe the night before - and perhaps United's 5-0 triumph earlier in the evening - treating us to a frankly unwarranted six figure salute, and the promise that there will only be one team playing in red next year's Champions League.
Bless.
The set is at times plagued by technical problems with the ear pieces - inevitably blamed on the virus - but even the odd mistimed vocal line can't derail an almighty version of Watching the Detectives, while (I Don't Want to Go to) Chelsea is another early tour de force, likewise underpinned by an irresistible 1970s reggae bassline.
Flanked by two members of his original backing band The Attractions and two accomplished backing singers, the quality is the musicianship is matched only by the versatility of the performance, and the show loses none of its intensity when Elvis takes to the piano for a more ballad-focused segment, of which, A Good Year for the Roses is a stand out.
An all seater venue, but the crowd finds its feet when he re-dons his guitar for Pump it Up, which retains every inch of the primeval, punk organ thump of the 1978 original.
It's a rip-roaring set, drawing on a back catalogue of classic songs spanning decades, and demonstrating a mastery of genres, from punk to gospel and country to reggae, while never straying too far from his tradmark low-fi, DIY ethic.
Following a recent cancer scare, it feels like a reappraisal and celebration of a life's body of work.
He even shares news of plans for a return to Palace Theatre with a musical stage show currently in development.
The concert ends on a high with the soaring anti-militarist double of Oliver's Army and (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding, both performed beneath the ghostly pictures of child soldiers from The Great War and the words 'Don't Join'.
As the man said, Trust Elvis.
Except perhaps when it comes to football predictions...or guidance on staying safe from the coronavirus.
