michael gallucci

Posts Tagged ‘eels’


In album review on 02/05/2013 at 2:06 pm



Wonderful, Glorious

(E Works/Vagrant)

Now that Mark Oliver Everett has put Eels’ trilogy of concept albums about lust, love, and loss behind him, he can get back to what he’s done best over the past 20 years: air out his messed-up life for the whole world to hear.

“I guess you could say that I had issues,” Everett sings on “New Alphabet.” “But it’s looking good, I dug my way out / I’m changing up what the story’s about.” That pretty much sums up Wonderful, Glorious’ worldview. Having documented nearly every aspect of his childhood and troubled-artist years on record, as well as in an autobiography, Everett turns the corner on this relatively rosy, but no less ambitious, record that plays like a soundtrack of his post-trilogy life.

The 2009-10 triple play of Hombre Loco, End Times, and Tomorrow Morning hit like a torrent of pent-up emotions. Between the sex and heartbreak, Everett seemed to have found some sort of balance in his often-twisted existence. For all of his bleak discourses on suicide, self-doubt, and mental illness over the years, he barely had time for life’s simpler and more carnal pleasures. The trilogy was a long time coming.

Wonderful, Glorious once again chronicles the everyday struggles of Everett, who’s written about everything from family deaths to his bouts with depression to the long and occasionally bumpy road to recovery. But he sounds more at peace this time. As he sings on the distorted, bulldozing blues ditty “Peach Blossom,” “You gotta love what’s happening here.”

Still, Eels’ 10th album doesn’t sound all that different than the ones that preceded it. Everett and his band mix jagged alt-rock and murky swamp-pop with bluesy shuffles and fractured art-rock. The opening “Bombs Away,” which comes off like Tom Waits heading into one hell of a reckless weekend, contrasts with “I Am Building A Shrine,” a dirge-like meditation on his inevitable death. Total recklessness gives way to cautious reflection. It’s all part of Everett’s wonderful, glorious plan to reboot, one small step at a time. He gets it just about right.

A.V. Club



In feature/interview on 08/03/2011 at 8:30 am

Mark Oliver Everett is finally finding some peace.

Twenty years into his career, the frontman for Eels, who goes by the stage name E, is putting to rest the demons that ran through two solo records and six band albums. And it took a trilogy of concept albums that explore the burden-carrying themes of desire, loss, and redemption for Everett to get to that place.

In a way, these three albums – Hombre Lobo, End Times, and Tomorrow Morning – exorcised parts of Everett’s past that he had wrestled with ever since the first E record came out in 1992. Electro-Shock Blues, the second Eels album (from 1998), is the obvious starting point here. Written and recorded following his sister’s suicide and his mother’s diagnosis of cancer, the record is a tough listen, a deep and often brutal look into Everett’s fractured psyche. It remains his best work.

The next few Eels albums, especially 2000’s Daisies of the Galaxy, which included the hopeful “Mr. E’s Beautiful Blues,” slowly brushed away the fading smell of death around Everett (among other things, his cousin was a flight attendant on the plane that crashed into the Pentagon on 9/11).

By the time he began work on End Times, the first album recorded for the trilogy but the second released, Everett was a relatively happy dude, picking away at the records’ themes with an open-minded and objective perspective, rather than a pained and personal one. “They were all ignited about something going on in my life,” he says. Surprisingly, each song ended up on the albums it was originally intended for. Or as Everett says, “Nobody hopped ship.”

Everett started the trilogy in 2008. Although recorded separately, all three were completed by the time Hombre Loco, the seventh Eels album and first in four years, was released in 2009. A little more than a year later, both End Times and Tomorrow Morning were out. The rapid release schedule isn’t all that unusual for the prolific Everett. Still, he says, “I wanted to make up for lost time.” But, he adds, “nothing ever goes as planned. Part of the fun of it is all the happy accidents along the way. It’s a good feeling having three aces up your sleeve.”

From the start, Everett has been a one-man alt-rock show. “Hello Cruel World,” a minor modern-rock hit in 1992, was pretty much a truly solo Everett. The earliest Eels records – including the breakthrough single “Novocaine for the Soul” in 1996 – featured little input from other people. (To this day, Eels are a revolving-door band, with other musicians coming in and out as they’re needed. On their current Tremendous Dynamite tour, Eels are a seven-piece.)

Then again, Everett didn’t need anyone along for the ride to hold his personal baggage. Despite their ubiquitous appearance in 75 percent of the Shrek movies, Eels’ songs are like scars, the result of scraping at years-old wounds. Everett’s 2007 autobiography Things the Grandchildren Should Know scratched even deeper. You don’t need to drag anyone else through this kind of hell.

But sometime around the end of the ’00s Everett exhaled. He cleaned out his closet with a pair of compilations gathering his best-known songs and rarities. He grew his hobo beard to awe-inspiring lengths. And he toured, effectively putting an end to his band’s first decade.

This is where the trilogy comes in. It was originally conceived as a two-part project. Hombre Lobo was added later, written and recorded as “a prequel that’s about the thing that gets you into this trouble in the first place,” says Everett. “But I always knew they all went together.”

Fittingly, Hombre Lobo, End Times, and Tomorrow Morning can be seen as the end, or the start, of a period in Everett’s life that’s now, like the psych-ward blues of a decade or so ago, in his past. He doesn’t mind looking back. But “I’m kinda superstitious about talking about my future,” he says. “I don’t want to paint myself into a corner. I often change my mind at the last minute and end up doing something else. And then it becomes this lost thing everyone asks you about for the rest of your life.”