Sunday’s Eels show was marked by lots of novel little moments, from a high energy cover of Led Zeppelin’s Good Times, Bad Times to readings from Things the Grandchildren Should Know. I showed up just in time to hear Mr. E ask his amused audience, “Are you ready to soft rock?” Indeed, they were.
He quickly opened up into Strawberry Blonde, and the mellow crowd of couples and old people swooned. I was a little annoyed by the cuddling duo in front of me, whose periodic smooching blocked my view of the stage. This, I must admit, may bias my opinion of the entire show.
In all fairness to Lovers McGee in front of me, the stage wasn’t anything special to look at, unless you were curious about what instruments Mr. E and his sidekick “The Chet” were playing. I was quite impressed at the number of them onstage. The two kept rotating around to each one, and by the end of the show, Mr. E informed the crowd that Chet was now playing his fourteenth instrument of the night. Not bad.
I Like Birds was a happy-go-lucky crowd pleaser, as expected. Cameras flashed (thought nothing looked different on stage) and the crowd whistled. My Beloved Monster was one of the heavier moments, featuring an appropriate strain in E’s voice and some dead on wails from Chet’s guitar.
After a memoir reading about his sister’s suicide, E broke into Last Stop: This Town, giving new meaning to the lyrics. Unfortunately, the rendition was sparse, and lacked energy. The charm of that song, it turns out, is in the production. Conversely, E was powerful on the piano during In the Yard, Behind the Church. This song, which was a standout of the night, might just be better without all the studio effects.
Flyswatter was another crowd favorite. Whatever dynamic was missing in the show before it finally came out in the full sound of the song’s piano and drums, giving a necessary energy boost to a previously (slightly) lacklustre performance. Halfway through the song, E stood up and walked over to the drums. He and Chet switched off seamlessly, and Chet played the piano just as well as E. E’s drum fills were on the mark, and the crowd ate it up.
By the time Mr. E got to Novocain for the Soul, his voice was rasping out. Two songs later it was downright flat, and I was getting nervous. After 32 years, could he still make it through a show? Fortunately, he did. After a few moments of earth rattling stomps from everyone in the theatre, he and Chet came back out for not one, but two encores, ending finally with a sweet and simple version of Blinking Lights (For Me).
On stage, Mr. E sat looking casual in a sweater and baseball cap, face mostly hidden from my balcony view. This seemed more humble than mysterious. His voice is homey when he talks, and has that same distinct timbre that comes out in his music. Speaking of talking, E did quite a bit of it. At one point he stopped and read some fan mail, like a bad SNL skit. Then he read some music reviews, including one for The Eagles. It was cute and novel at first, but went on a little long. More music, please.
No one can deny that Mr. E is always heartfelt in his delivery, as was the case especially on Climbing to the Moon, another standout of the night. He projects to the audience a sense of his vulnerability, and the performance was very honest. Through the songs and the memoir readings, he shows his pain, and tries to make light of it without undermining its importance. There came a point, however, when it seemed more like a shameless plug for his book.
In the end, the Eels performance offered up exactly what you’d expect from a Sunday night soft rock show.
