Eels – 02 Academy Newcastle – 4/09/2013

I always get nervous before gigs. Good nerves though. Adrenalin-rush nerves, the kind you’d experience in the moments leading up to hurling yourself out of a plane, or ordering a white-wine spritzer in the Blandford. Though they’re not usually this pronounced – usually I’m with friends, drinking pretentious ales, talking shite, getting blamed. But when you get there – that’s the feeling you want right there. The dimmed lights, scurrying crew members, the indistinct rumbling of the pre-gig soundtrack and of course the instruments – isolated and, for the moment, silent. And whereas earlier the conversation flowed as freely as the 5AM Saint (told you, pretentious), now it becomes just that little bit forced. Strained. Filling time until the rumbling stops, and light goes to dark. And then we’re off. And I would, honestly, start to worry if the day ever arrives when those nerves fail to manifest themselves, even fleetingly.

Tonight is different. Tonight I’m flying solo, having endured a stiflingly hot bus-ride through places I’d never heard of, all the while sitting next to a Hyacinth Bucket-type who, if her restless seat-shifting was any indication, wasn’t best pleased to be stuck next to bedraggled ole me for the duration. To hell with her. No better way to ready myself than by having another listen to Wonderful, Glorious – Eels 10th and latest offering and a shoe-in, most definitely, for the Most Aptly-Named Album of 2013 award. It’s good for getting the nerves going, and they’re still jangling when I arrive at the still-sparse Academy, buffering around with a godawful pint of Carlsberg avoiding eye-contact for fear of catching a pitying glance or two. An over-exaggeration maybe, but it was still a slight relief when the house-lights dimmed and the first act, whose name/names I never caught or tried to catch arrived on stage. Summing it up, it was two girls (complete with glowing hula-hoops) throwing shapes to rambunctious, sample-happy (Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds and The Crazy World of Arthur Brown, together at last) dance music. Not much else to say really, and it didn’t leave much of an impression.

That isn’t an accusation you can level at the next support act however. Not in the slightest. Shorn of the band which usually backs her, we’re presented with the remarkably still teenaged Misty Miller, accompanied only by her guitar and a set of absorbing, wonderfully compelling songs that, by the time she takes her leave, have the rapidly swelling crowd enthralled. It’s quite a testament to her talent that songs such as ‘Girlfriend’, ‘Anything For You’ and the particularly outstanding ‘Wait’ are just as strong in their pared-down form as they are when she has her band behind her, mainly as it allows her powerful, soulful voice to soar more clearly, conveying both the confidence and the fragility of the relationship she’s singing about. The night’s first surprise was indeed a joy to behold. At their worst, support acts can feel like a bit of endurance test, or much worse, can play their hearts out in front of a cold crowd which simply isn’t interested. But at their best, they leave you spellbound, wanting more and bothering all and sundry until you make sure you catch her name.

Those nerves reach their apex when the lights dim for the final time. It still remains exhilarating, when the energy in the now full Academy seems to surge toward the stage, where the four members of Eels who aren’t E (they are Knuckles, P-Boo, the mysterious bassist known simply as Al and longtime Eel The Chet) take their place on stage to rapturous applause, before the man himself joins his associates, all matching Adidas tracksuits, serious facial hair and an oddly-symmetrical set up –drum riser on the left, E on the right and the remaining three on a riser behind them – like a strangely modern homage to the groups of the sixties. Or like the cast of the latest Wes Anderson picture. They waste no time in getting down to it with a raucous, three-song barrage to get the evening’s proceedings going – starting with ‘Cancer for the Cure’ from 1998’s dark masterpiece Electro-Shock Blues, the band rip through this years ‘Feeling Fuzzy’ before going back to Souljacker’s ‘Dog-Faced Boy’, it set the tone of a set which, understandably, leaned heavily on Wonderful, Glorious but still contained a more-than-ample selection of past gems. And you really can’t help but wonder if there’s some symbolic reason as to why the set begins in this manner – opening with a number from Eels most melancholic and troubling album. And it works because, once it’s out the way, Eels never glance back.

The night’s second surprise is the sheer joy and exuberance that characterises this performance, and witnessing E in such fine fettle is just as enjoyable as hearing the songs themselves. Whether it’s the frequent hugs he doles out to his cohorts or his casual conversing with the crowd, he has us in the palm of his hand. After all, any band can introduce themselves to their audience, but it takes a one-off band like Eels to transform this formality into one of the shows highlights, especially considering this is a show where highlights are at a premium. And Eels can joke around all they want because, when they do get down to it, it becomes obvious that they are a finely-tuned, hard rocking machine, alternating between new songs like ‘The Turnaround’, ‘Peach Blossom’ and a hearty ‘On The Ropes’ and older standards like ‘Prizefighter’, ‘Dirty Girl’ and the brilliant stomp of high-point ‘Souljacker Pt.1’. They even find time for a few curveball covers – Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Oh Well’ goes down a storm, as does their (all-too-brief) reworking of ‘Let It Be’ in tribute to E (‘Let It E’ indeed). They keep it coming long into the night, simultaneously performing two of their best-known and most-loved songs, ‘My Beloved Monster’ and ‘Mr E’s Beautiful Blues’, in one glorious mash-up before reappearing for a second encore and a menacing prowl through Hombre Lobo’s ‘Fresh Blood.’ The crowd can’t get enough, and E knows this. “We’d like to play for you all night if we could, but we don’t wanna spend the night in Newcastle prison” he informs us, before taking a moment to ponder it. “Or maybe we do.”

Quite clearly he does. The night’s final surprise (or penultimate surprise, as finding out that the pub next to the Academy has Brooklyn Beer on draught was certainly an unexpected bonus) comes a good while after the house lights have come on and a good proportion of the crowd are spilling out into the streets. The band return for a third and final time to a crowd that, despite halving in number, is louder now than at any time tonight, for a blast through ‘Open My Present’ and ‘Go Eels’ before E finally tells us to “Go Home” which we do, disappearing into the night red-faced and delirious after a special performance from a thoroughly unique, truly great band, with that line from ‘Mr E’s Beautiful Blues’ that has always seemed so poignant ringing in our ears. “Goddamn right it’s a beautiful day”. He ain’t wrong. 8.8/10

Andy McCabe