The true Rock'n Roll

One must not lose an excessive amount of words about this excellent work indeed. Who has time risked lately again a glimpse of the legendary farewell show by James Murphy with his LCD Soundsystem from New York's Madison Square Garden, who knows that true greatness, so the true Rock n Roll, not in show bombastic, absurd choreographies and the dimensions of video screens manifest, but to be able to fill a giant room in the ability with charisma, wit, genius, and a fabulous band. With nothing more than a few songs. Murphy could and Mark Oliver Everett, so the E in Eels, has many years of all the above Qualiäten abundantly available. And uses this, no real surprise, even with his return to London's Royal Albert Hall.

No Fuzzgitarren, not distorted loops and also by biting grumbling no trace Everett and band present themselves over the entire concert as well-established chamber music ensemble full of humor, playful and very tidy. It is dominated by the low, best, laconic tones, there are mixed the pieces of their latest album The Cautionary Tales Of Mark Oliver Everett with classics and cover versions and in between garnished with witty announcements. So Everett criticized the fact that he has been denied for the umpteenth time the game on the giant organ at the Hall of Fame with the note, a soft rock band as its stands this privilege probably not.

Dressed in fine cloth, Eels suggest a bummer equal to the next follow to announce only to then immediately a total bummer, or the next level bummer all finely balanced, acoustic cabaret works like Parallels, My Timing Is Off, Lockdown Hurricane or Where the Going. Trumpet solos, vibraphone, jazz drums, nothing is covered, at most times gently swinging hips or lured the audience brisk twang from the reserve, in gratitude turns Everett later in addition pause a bold embrace round through puzzled floor (fun and terrifying). One should not renounce, despite first-class sound on the images to sound, you do see a nice idea, with what simple means, so they ruled similarly perfect to follow a the auditorium over an entire evening is ready.

And you can enjoy the humorous charm Everetts entirely, as he drives his jokes with the history of the place (they say that today?), Before John Lennon to its knees (or wars but Keith Richards?), His band drives and not bothered because on bass and drums but two lookalikes even do its their service. And at the end, after the dark shimmering The Beginning and an homage to the somewhat larger Elvis Presley (Cant Help Falling In Love), there is, not surprisingly, even a thick and somewhat creepy surprise in terms of catcalls. And who says now that now despite the otherwise amazing introduction were indeed but many words, just believe me: The man has it fucking deserved. mapambulo: blog