Tuesday, February 9, 2010

The Trouble With Eels

End Times

To One Mr. E,

First of all, hi. How are you? I don't want to skip the niceties. Just don't think I'm really listening. I have a point to this, and I wish to make it quickly.

I'm a fan, sir. I've been one since Blinking Lights and Other Revelations came out a few years back, right around the beginning of my musical awakening. You were instrumental in my early forays into songwriting. You, uh, you may choose, understandably, not to take that as a complement.

I've always been one to say you write the same two or three songs, and you've never been one to lie about it, either. There's something to be admired about that, I suppose. I even used that point in your favour when I reviewed last year's Hombre Lobo, which was pretty snazzy. Swish, even.

Here's the thing; you usually manage to spread it out, so we have four repetitions of each song type on each album. On End Times, you seem to have written the same, I will say splendid, song fourteen times. And it's to the point that I have a hard time listening to even half of this thing in one sitting. Again, I want to emphasise, that song is great, but fourteen times is a lot to take in. Some variety is all I ask.

I can't say your album is bad, Mr. E. No. That would be a lie. Each song, on its own, is at the least competent, and at times very, very good. Like you do. But you usually mix it up slightly more than this. So I won't give you a bad grade. But I'm not going to give you a good one, either. I'm just not going to give you one.

Andrew Lynch.

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