Monday, November 06, 2006
We Never Had Fancy When We Could’ve Had Plain
A week ago I went downtown to catch the Mountain Goats, featuring the nasally vocals of Indie’s hippest un-hip troubadour, John Darnielle. If you are not familiar with the prolific works of the Goats, they basically write little lo-fi narratives that usually have something to do with either unhealthy relationships, small towns, or bad decisions. Admittedly, I’m not the biggest Mountain Goats fan in the world, but the songs I do like, I really like a lot. Unfortunately, the show, while memorable in it own way, fell a bit short for me. I guess I thought that it was going to be more energetic and personal than it actually was. I imagined (based on live recordings) that it would be kind of like a guy sitting around a camp fire rambling tales over fiery acoustic strumming, but it was in fact, exactly like a guy making awkward facial expressions and doing, what amounted to, a poor impersonation of Mitch Hedberg during the in-between-song-banter. The music was fine, but for me, the performance was nothing special.
This really didn’t bother me until Friday night when I hiked 9 blocks to Emo’s Lounge to see Stiff Record alumnus and cult Pop-rocker, Wreckless Eric. Eric (born Eric Goulden) found success in the late 70's with his only big hit, "Whole Wide World," a song that I’ve always thought belonged in a film. It will finally be getting that chance later this month with the release of "Stranger Than Fiction." Though "Whole Wide World" was his only real hit, he still generated quite a reputation throughout the late 70's/early 80's, not only for his unusual Pop sensibilities, but also for his notoriety as a heavy drinker.
My first exposure to Wreckless Eric was through the 1993 Rhino Compilation Series, DIY. The song "Whole Wide World" was featured on the "Teenage Kicks: UK Pop (1976-79)" disc and it immediately struck me as having a rather timeless quality to it. I then read up on him and gained even more insight from a couple of pivotal (for me) blogs on Post-Punk Junk (which can be found, complete with downloadable mp3's, here & here).
When I found out that Wreckless Eric was playing Emo’s 2 months ago I didn’t even think he was alive, much less touring. I knew that this was probably going to be a once in a lifetime experience, so I made it my goal not to miss it. Knowing all of that, I still found myself hesitant to go out Friday night; it was cold, late, and I had to get up at 5:30 the next morning, but I knew I would regret not going, so I forced myself to go. I have to admit, I am soooooooo glad I did.
Wreckless Eric took the stage a short time after setting up his guitars. His physical appearance was far different than the many younger photos I had seen. It reminded me of how different Henry Winkler looks now when in comparison to the eternally young Arthur Fonzarelli. That thought was then followed by a slight awe at the fact that Eric’s unique voice, now 30 years along, sounded exactly the same now as it did then. He surveyed the crowd from atop the stage, commented on a young lady’s hair in the front row, and then remarked, "you’re all so young; when I was popular, you weren’t even born." He then started the set with what I recall as being a rollicking rendition of "Joe Meek." By the end of the second song, the emotionally cathartic rant "Same," I had a growing urge inside me to say aloud, "fuck the Mountain Goats!"
Wreckless Eric (1977)
Wreckless Eric (1991)
In front of me stood a man in his mid-50's, without a record contract or any prospect of conventional success. He stood there playing music in a small club half way around the world for people 30 years younger than himself. When he played, his acoustic guitar had a harshness and forcefulness that most guys playing electric guitars lack. He had a stomp and a yell and a lifetime of experiences John Darnielle could only invent. He had a pain in his face, an understated sense of humor, and a genuine oddness to him. There was no need to fake a vocal quirk when speaking either, since he was born with his a long time ago. Simply put, Wreckless Eric was putting the Mountain Goats to shame.
Midway through the third or forth song, the cell phone began ringing loudly, it belonged to the same young lady on the front row. Eric paused momentarily and looked down at her, smiled and said "honey you might want to answer it, it’s out of tune with my guitar." There was an effortless crowd interaction throughout the whole of the evening, he would relay stories about songs, stopping at one point to actually read a passage from his book. This action in some other context might seem pompous, but in this environment, it seemed only natural. Towards the end he asked if he had left anything out, anything anyone wanted to hear. One person asked to hear the song that they were supposedly conceived to, "Broken Doll." The idea that someone had sex listening to his music, and that their offspring then grew up to come to one of his shows, sparked Eric to remark, "wow, just imagine that."
Even a bored drunk woman shouting for the Elephant in the Room (in this case "Play Whole Wide World!!!") couldn’t halt the momentum of the show. After assuring the woman he would play the song once, and then being forced to confront her nagging again, Eric eventually gave the drunken embarrassment what she wanted. Before he did so though, he thanked the audience for being so nice, "even the ones who yell at me and tell me what to do." Staring down the awkwardness of the situation, he could of played the song in an obligatory manner, but he instead played with the same playful enthusiasm he had churned out during the previous hour and twenty minutes. When the song was over, he put down his guitar and took a look at the applauding audience, and said quietly "well, you made an old man happy."
Wreckless Eric (2006)
In retrospect there is no direct cause for a comparison between the Mountain Goats show and Wreckless Eric’s, I mean, they’re both from different times and perform different styles of music. As a friend of mine put it though when I tried to explain the way I felt after the show, "sometimes it takes experiencing something real to see how pretentious other things are."
Whole Wide World
Joe Meek
I found a neat live recording from a recent radio broadcast at WFMU, and I edited a couple of the songs down to individually mp3's. Both of them are very good, and characteristic of the show Friday night. "33's & 45's" starts off a bit slow, but stick with it.
Same (Live from WFMU)
33's & 45's (Live from WFMU)
I also encourage you to check out his website, particularly his "biography"
–Popkoff
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