Tuesday, February 2, 2010

end times

I have endeavoured, wholly unscuccessfully, to physically distance myself from the Eels' confessional, "End Times" for some time. 

The fact that, perversely, I was unable to open the file sent by their manager pre-release was to some extent a blessed relief, given that I was a little unwilling to enter into Mark Oliver Everett's own personal hell quite so soon after my own documented devolution into single cell stasis and back. To participate gladly in the disinterment of terminal injury and peek beneath the dressing.

Apologies, then, that this brief warming of the coals is more of a retrospective sibling murmur than it might have been.

Ultimately, you either have the stomach for it or not. The slow razorblading analysis of a once breathing corpse, and the determination to divine meaning through dissection.

Let me pause to uphold Everett's intention. And my own simple belief in catharsis.

"End Times" is not a release for the faint-hearted, or those unwary benificiaries of a still beating transplant.

When you are there you are there. Stuck between the endgame and the gummy sutures which narrow from smile to sneer; to abbreviated condolence.

The practised indifference of civil servants. Solicitors. Contracted auctioneers.

The fear of indolence is weightier than the fear of exposure and the crushing thirst for atonement.

End Times.

The dirt kicked up on the roof of Susan's House. A broken record.

Me, I was left pissing in the sink. Or the measuring jug I subsequently emptied. The Plimsoll line on an unforgivably listing tug.

EELS: A LINE IN THE DIRT from "End Times" CD (E Works) 2010 (US)


Löst Jimmy said...

If there is one thing I enjoy here it is always the eloquent way you scribe the blogposts. I trust you are insulating against the icy weather with plenty of Chilean Red?

ib said...

Worse. Straight brandy. With the option of sugary coke on the side.

Thanks, Löst Jimmy.

It is baltic, isn't it ? Just nipped down to the corner shop. Even the counter staff were shivering behind the calor gas canister.


A big fan of E & Eels...Souljacker, Beautiful Freak, Electro-Shock Blues. Seen him & whatever variation three different times. But Hombre Loco was a bummer to me, too whiny with the love thing...now the broken heart of End Times. I'll take a pass on this one. No sir, don't like it...don't like it a bit.

@eloh said...

I've never locked myself in a bathroom... but I have drawn the line in the dirt... who knew?

I've lived through the beginning of the end to too many relationships. The death blow was usually something simple wherein I showed no reaction... just began my exit strategy.

I liked this tune, music and lyrics... I could not handle a steady diet though... too much sadness.

ib said...

Yes. Listening to the album in its entirety requires a huge amount of stamina. Like revisiting Raymond Carver against your will.

The writing is taut and concise, but it requires the appetite for reconstruction.

Anto said...

nice words theer ib. have been lucky enough to sail one steady ship for a long time so can stand back and take this in a bit easier than some of the other commentators. he's and interesting fish, E.

ib said...

Interesting. And, as this proves, tough going too.

Cheers, Anto.