Eels are a damn frustrating live band. For all his talents and marvellous back-catalogue, E has the unfortunate tendency to blemish an otherwise tip-top performance with unnecessary self-indulgence and his latest show at the Royal Festival Hall was no different. His gimmickry often falls flat, the set-list choices are sometimes bafflingly obtuse and overlong readings from E’s recently-published autobiography smacks of a man who needs reining in for his own good. Yet this same eccentricity is paradoxically the reason for his enduring appeal. I mean, who else would genuinely try to get the Queen to come along to one of his gigs? And his quirk of completely changing the format of his touring band every year ensures you get a different experience every time you see him, even though admittedly some permutations work better than others. Moving on from the string arrangements of 2005 and the gospel-tinged garage rock of 2006, E’s now stripped down the band to a bare minimum, with just guitarist and drummer ‘The Chet’ for accompaniment. This simple, unadorned set-up naturally as always led to some radically different interpretations of his recorded material, a heartbreaking, saw-driven Bus Stop Boxer and a grungey take on Novocaine For The Soul standing out as highlights. In fact, the whole set list was unusually awesome, with a surprising number of tracks from Electro-Shock Blues (the haunting Elizabeth On The Bathroom Floor, Last Stop: This Town and PS You Rock My World and Climbing to the Moon), not to mention classics like I Like Birds, It’s a Motherfucker and perennial favourite My Beloved Monster. Indeed, if it wasn’t for the occasional cringeworthy moment, it would have easily been a five-star performance; if only E would show a bit more restraint then maybe he’d be as marvellous live as he could, and should be.
(Photo: Thomas Kjaer)
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