Album Review: Blinking Lights And Other Revelations - Eels
"Trouble with dreams is you never know when to hold on and when to let go."
The Eels have always been an acquired taste. While their debut album, Beautiful Freak, certainly troubled the charts and acquired them a healthy fanbase (with catchy single Novocaine For The Soul particularly successful), the follow-up (1998's Electro-Shock Blues) was far darker and less accessible, as head Eel Mark Everett dealt with the deaths of both his mother and sister. Then came Daisies Of The Galaxy, a strangely chirpy jaunt into acoustic weirdness that still managed to be home to hit single Mr E's Beautiful Blues (a track that has since found its way into about a million films). With a burgeoning reputation as an unco-operative, distinctly non-commercial outfit, the Eels felt confident enough to chase this with 2001's Souljacker, their hardest album to date. Since then, Everett and co. have been hard at work on Blinking Lights And Other Revelations, taking a brief time out in 2003 to throw together Shootenanny, which - considering it was recorded in ten days - is an extremely strong album.
But trust me, it's nothing compared to this. Out April 26th (I have what you might call an advance copy, but I'll be buying the proper album as soon as it's in stores), Blinking Lights And Other Revelations is, quite simply, the sound of an exceptional band hitting their peak. A double album at this stage of the game could be considered a risky move, with accusations of self-indulgence and egotism never far from such an exercise, but Everett (the main creative force behind the band) has done himself proud here, turning in a record made up of 34 tracks and only slightly over ninety minutes in length. Yes, it's longer and more epic in scope than your average album, but with such beautifully crafted stories to be told and no filler in sight, the listener's extra investment is more than justified.
Disc 1 kicks off with Theme From Blinking Lights, introducing us to a recurring tune and theme of the album, particularly this disc. "There are two kinds of Christmas people," says Everett, on the Eels official site, "those who like their Christmas lights to stay on solid and those who like them to blink. As a kid, I always had a thing for sitting in the dark and watching the lights blink on and off at random." Disc 1, it seems to me, is very much about childhood, nostalgia, and growing up. From Everett's melancholy memories of his parents (Son Of A Bitch) to the wonderfully manic and fucked-up introduction to the Real World that is Going Fetal, via the grin-inducing teenaged optimism of Trouble With Dreams, there is something ethereal and almost innocent about this opening salvo. Almost all of the songs are less than three minutes long, and the constant mixing of genre and tempo that has always been an Eels trademark seems here to reinforce that sense of childish playfulness giving way to the powerful emotion of puberty. This isn't a concept album, but it could be.
The second disc is slicker and contains far more tracks that could potentially be singles. Of course, given the band we're dealing with, they've gone with one of the most strangely catchy songs I've heard in a while (Hey Man (Now You're Really Living), sort of a companion piece to Going Fetal) as the first release, but there you go. If I was comparing them as separate albums, I'd say disc 2 was more coherent but disc 1 much more interesting. Of course, together they are greater than the sum of their parts, and the second disc comes across as an extension and expansion of the first, looking beyond the childhood world towards God, love, and a more mature approach to death. Again, the songs are brief and strong, each track a powerful statement in its own right and a part of the larger picture. The only time this pattern is broken is with the closer, Things The Grandchildren Should Know, and as it's almost a summary of all that has come before and an expression of honesty, optimism, and hope, this seems only right and proper.
As Everett says, expanding on the Blinking Lights theme, "In the end, what we have are these little, great moments. They come and they go. That's as good as it gets. But still, isn't that great?"
Yes, and so is this album. You really should own it.
10/10
The Eels have always been an acquired taste. While their debut album, Beautiful Freak, certainly troubled the charts and acquired them a healthy fanbase (with catchy single Novocaine For The Soul particularly successful), the follow-up (1998's Electro-Shock Blues) was far darker and less accessible, as head Eel Mark Everett dealt with the deaths of both his mother and sister. Then came Daisies Of The Galaxy, a strangely chirpy jaunt into acoustic weirdness that still managed to be home to hit single Mr E's Beautiful Blues (a track that has since found its way into about a million films). With a burgeoning reputation as an unco-operative, distinctly non-commercial outfit, the Eels felt confident enough to chase this with 2001's Souljacker, their hardest album to date. Since then, Everett and co. have been hard at work on Blinking Lights And Other Revelations, taking a brief time out in 2003 to throw together Shootenanny, which - considering it was recorded in ten days - is an extremely strong album.
But trust me, it's nothing compared to this. Out April 26th (I have what you might call an advance copy, but I'll be buying the proper album as soon as it's in stores), Blinking Lights And Other Revelations is, quite simply, the sound of an exceptional band hitting their peak. A double album at this stage of the game could be considered a risky move, with accusations of self-indulgence and egotism never far from such an exercise, but Everett (the main creative force behind the band) has done himself proud here, turning in a record made up of 34 tracks and only slightly over ninety minutes in length. Yes, it's longer and more epic in scope than your average album, but with such beautifully crafted stories to be told and no filler in sight, the listener's extra investment is more than justified.
Disc 1 kicks off with Theme From Blinking Lights, introducing us to a recurring tune and theme of the album, particularly this disc. "There are two kinds of Christmas people," says Everett, on the Eels official site, "those who like their Christmas lights to stay on solid and those who like them to blink. As a kid, I always had a thing for sitting in the dark and watching the lights blink on and off at random." Disc 1, it seems to me, is very much about childhood, nostalgia, and growing up. From Everett's melancholy memories of his parents (Son Of A Bitch) to the wonderfully manic and fucked-up introduction to the Real World that is Going Fetal, via the grin-inducing teenaged optimism of Trouble With Dreams, there is something ethereal and almost innocent about this opening salvo. Almost all of the songs are less than three minutes long, and the constant mixing of genre and tempo that has always been an Eels trademark seems here to reinforce that sense of childish playfulness giving way to the powerful emotion of puberty. This isn't a concept album, but it could be.
The second disc is slicker and contains far more tracks that could potentially be singles. Of course, given the band we're dealing with, they've gone with one of the most strangely catchy songs I've heard in a while (Hey Man (Now You're Really Living), sort of a companion piece to Going Fetal) as the first release, but there you go. If I was comparing them as separate albums, I'd say disc 2 was more coherent but disc 1 much more interesting. Of course, together they are greater than the sum of their parts, and the second disc comes across as an extension and expansion of the first, looking beyond the childhood world towards God, love, and a more mature approach to death. Again, the songs are brief and strong, each track a powerful statement in its own right and a part of the larger picture. The only time this pattern is broken is with the closer, Things The Grandchildren Should Know, and as it's almost a summary of all that has come before and an expression of honesty, optimism, and hope, this seems only right and proper.
As Everett says, expanding on the Blinking Lights theme, "In the end, what we have are these little, great moments. They come and they go. That's as good as it gets. But still, isn't that great?"
Yes, and so is this album. You really should own it.
10/10
posted by Michael at 9:17 PM
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