First a word about this evening's "support", which came in the form of a Russian animated short entitled "Crocodile Gena". It centres around the adventures of the eponymous friendly crocodile and an incredibly cute creature "unknown to science" known as Cheburashka, Soviet Russia's answer to Mickey Mouse apparently. Anyway, after 20 minutes of this carry on, received with polite applause in the near sold out all seater proscenium arch theatre-style Academy, one could be forgiven for expecting that tonight's gig was not going to be just an ordinary rock show.
Such expectations were immediately confirmed as a E arrived onstage followed by a string quartet and two multi-instrumentalists. Dressed in a neatly-pressed grey suit, puffing on a cigar and carrying a silver-handled cane(!), Mr. Mark Oliver Everett seated himself at a tack piano and led his accompanists in a rendition of the gentle instrumental "Going to Your Funeral Pt. II" from the Electroshock Blues album.
Following this E stepped up to his stagefront mic to declaim "Dust of Ages", which opens the second disc of new album Blinking Lights & Other Revelations, over a stately string backing fleshed out by upright bass and lap steel, and through a haze of cigar smoke. Gig goers familiar with the louder moments of the Eels back catalogue may have been taken aback by this somewhat unconventional opening one-two, however as the man delivered the line "I'm not fucking around anymore" with suitable intent, one had little choice but to take him at his word.
Five further selections from Blinking Lights... (including the quasi title track instrumental "Bride of Theme from Blinking Lights") followed in a similar vein. The songs played often harsh lyricism, as in the case of "Son of a Bitch", off against the sweet surround of the onstage sextet, with E himself switching between upright piano and acoustic guitar. Mention should also be made at this stage of the contribution of Chet Atkins III (real name Chet Lyster apparently) on lap steel, musical saw, electric guitar, piano and an array of percussion at various points. The Chet, as E referred to him throughout the show, certainly proved himself worthy of the definite article, peeling off several fine solos in this opening section.
Seven songs in I must admit your reviewer was beginning to wonder if the lush musical backdrop may not be too much of a good thing, as some of the more upbeat songs felt a little flat in this live setting, a case in point being "From Which I Came / A Magic World". However things began to pick up as E revisited and reworked some tunes from the back catalogue, including "Dirty Girl", which took on the air of a wistful country strum-along in its new setting, and "My Beloved Monster".
This latter brought about E's first direct acknowledgement of his audience. After a cheer of recognition greeted the opening two-chord pattern E stopped the song: 'Aw C'mon. You couldn't possibly know what that is...that could be the start to anything...you might hate this song'. As an even louder cheer greeted the song's actual opening line he turned around to his players forced to admit 'I think they like it'.
Several songs later the tempo shifted up another notch with the introduction of The Chet's percussion kit, consisting of something like a deadened snare placed in a trash can, and a suitcase with pedal attached used as a make-shift bass drum. How's that for resourceful? Unlikely as it may sound, in combination with sweeping strings and piano contributed by versatile bassist 'Big' Al Hunter, Chet's thumping made for a cracking cover of The Left Banke's "Pretty Ballerina"
Several members of the string quartet also tried their hand at percussion (tambourine and shaker) for a romp through "I Like Birds". Things then took a turn for the reflective once more with "I Need Some Sleep", a song which, with its mournful 'you just gotta let go' refrain, wouldn't have sounded out of place on the Blinking Lights... album. Instead E gave it to a 'green man with a scottish accent', i.e. the Shrek 2 OST.
The sextet subsequently took a short break while E delivered a stripped down guitar and vocal take on "Railroad Man", a country and folk inflected number playing on the singer's identification with members of a dying profession. His players soon returned with a vengeance led by The Chet banging out the beat on "Trouble with Dreams" over Big Al's descending bass. The entire quartet switched seamlessly to percussion for an extended coda, brought to an abrupt halt on a cue from E's cane.
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There followed another swift change of mood with E leading the way on piano through the second cover of the evening, Bob Dylan's "Girl from the North Country" recast as a piece of stately (that word again) chamber pop balladeering.
E continued to turn the emotional screws with a sequence of three further ballads, dealing respectively with suicidal depression ("Suicide Life"), break-up guilt ("I'm Going to Stop Pretending That I Didn't Break Your Heart") and bereavement ("Dead of Winter"). It is a measure of the man's talents that the cumulative effect of this triptych was uplifting, everyone present able to rejoice in the fact that the singer has held to his promise in "Dead of Winter" to 'not fade into the night', and then some.
Besides, anyone who introduces "Dog Faced Boy" as a 'lullaby' is unlikely to fade away without making one hell of a racket. Everyone, including E on maracas, was pressed into percussion duty apart from Big Al on his double-bass and The Chet, who cranked out the song's dirty rock riff on a super fuzzed up electric gee-tawr. Mind you even The Chet stomped away in time on his suitcase-bass-drum pedal, so hard in fact that a roadie had to rush onstage to prevent the contraption from sliding away beyond his reach!
The peppy piano pop of "Losing Streak" lacked punch as a follow up, but to be fair most things would. It was succeeded by the soemwhat more subdued "The Stars Shine In The Sky Tonight", a Christmas carol melody lifted far beyond the realm of cheap sentiment by E's delivery of a lyric steeped in love, loss and hope.
The main set concluded with the almost nursery rhyme simplicity of "Souljacker Pt. II", which came on as a kind of lullaby, albeit a particularly dark one (sample line: "He can shoot me up full of bullet holes but the Souljacker can't get my soul") complete with saw solo.
Two sets of encores followed. The first juxtaposed a frenetic, joyful "Hey Man (Now You're Really Living)" with the swoops and screeches of a woozy "Flyswatter", the end of which degenerated into a squawking and skronking 'everyone-try-make-their-instrument-sound-like-a-distressed-seagull' improv free-for-all.
However the assembled faithful were not to be dispatched so easily, and were rewarded with a delightful, almost regal "Grace Kelly Blues" followed by an urgent, evangelical and ultimately life-affirming "Things the Grandchildren Should Know". This last segeued neatly into a reprise of "Theme from Blinking Lights", bringing a reassuring sense of closure to the evening's proceedings...
...or so it seemed. About ten minutes later, after about half of the crowd had obediently filed out, E and his cohorts returned to the stage to treat those remaining fans to a poptastic Prince cover, "I Could Never Take The Place of Your Man", which couldn't but leave a smile on every last face in the building.
Seven accomplished musicians, thirty odd songs, and one performer/songwriter/artist to be long cherished, catch this tour if you can, its like will not be there again.
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