THE DUKE LISTENS TO
TEN YEARS GONE -
THE BEST OF
EVERCLEAR
TEN YEARS GONE -
THE BEST OF
EVERCLEAR
Hey Art Alexakis of Everclear.
Yeah, it’s The Duke. Oh, thanks, I like your hair, too.
But shut your fucking trap for a second, Art Alexakis, cause what
I have to discuss is some fairly important tomfoolery. I don’t
know if you know, but Everclear, the band you’ve fronted for the
last ten years, they’ve just gone ahead and released a Best Of,
entitled Ten Years Gone.
Well of course its fantastic Art Alexakis, what kind of moron are
you?
Yeah, it’s released on September 28th. I can’t believe you didn’t
know this. You make me sick sometimes.
Oh, sorry Art Alexakis, there’s some folks here who wanna know all
about this record, so what I’m gonna do is hang up on you right
now, on account of these folks might get to hear our conversation,
and what with you being one of the few rock star types to be voted
Delegate To The National Democratic Convention, no less, I
wouldn't want any state secrets getting out to the motherfucking
communists.
Bye Art Alexakis. Shut up.
Sorry about that folks.
You may remember a couple weeks back or whatever, The Duke
Reviewed The New Supergrass Best-Of. If you didn’t read that
particular article, first of all, I’d like to know what you
thought was more worthy of your time than my motherfucking sweat
and / or blood, is what, and second, the point of it all was that
Supergrass have, without much fuss or accolade, been making some
of the finest pop music of the past decade.
I’m reminded of this because right about now The Duke is listening
to Ten Years Gone – The Best Of Everclear, and basically, I could
just reprint that Supergrass review and maybe change a few song
titles and you wouldn’t know a damn thing about it. Just like
those mutton-chopped sons a bitches what sing about “We are young,
we are free”, Everclear have built up a staggeringly consistent
body of work that is both lyrically incisive and melodically
blinding, and yet, platinum records aside, who really gives a shit?
How many Best Records Of All Ever lists do you see with Everclear
perched in the top 5? About 7 or 3 I’m guessing, which, given the
number of such lists what appear on the web-net every thirty
seconds, is a shockingly disproportionate number.
It’s about now that this needs to be rectified.
Dip into this Best Of anywhere, and chances are you find a tune
fit to leave you smiling like some malcontent just done sniffed
three bin-liners full of UHU.
Those perfect concoctions of gap-toothed punk, anthemic rock and
shimmering pop harmonies, coupled with those narratives regarding
the low-income and the lower-self-esteem, and the old triumph-
against-adversity undercurrent, it’d be enough to have Art
Alexakis hailed as the finest songwriter in post-Nirvana rock
music, if we didn’t know that the title is already taken by Eric
Noble.
Alexakis’ lyrics are swamped in minute observation and a
novelist's flair for getting to the guts of the matter with some
inspired usage of the English language.
Of course, we’re talking good novelists here. I wouldn’t want you
going and assuming Art Alexakis was like that fella behind The
Michelangelo Secret or whatever that shit was called.
Father Of Mine is a prime example. You may remember the song at
the end of KoRn’s first record where Jonathan Davies screamed for
ten minutes about his bastard Pop. It may have been harrowing, and
certainly brave, but Everclear evoke that same frustration,
desperation and anger with one line;
“My daddy gave me a name,
And then he walked away.”
The thing is made all the more heartbreaking on account of the
wistful tune wrapped around it. It’s like that one by Wilco, She’s
A Jar, that sounds like the loveliest damn thing you ever heard
until that final line upends the whole shebang; “You know she begs
me not to hit her.”
But there’s more to it all than the words, although, let’s be
honest here, those words are among the finest a fella could find
this side of “motherfuck” or “dandelion”. There’s a timelessness
to this stuff, a fact illustrated by how little it has dated since
1994. There ain’t many songs from, say, Ten by, I believe,
Soundgarden, that sound as fresh as these.
There are 21 tracks here, (including two new songs), and only one
of them, the by-the-numbers cover of Boys Are Back In Town, sounds
perfunctory. If truth be told, they should have flung that ditty
the hell out the window and put on Amphetamine instead, the
exclusion of which is the only disappointment about the whole
enterprise.
But who has time to worry about that when the likes of Local God
with its sneering “You look so fuckin’ stoopid”, or Heroin Girl
(which has, incidentally, one of the finest opening lyrics in
modern rock – “I used to know a girl, she had two pierced nipples
and a black tattoo”) or the frankly sublime Santa Monica bounding
from the speakers?
Santa Monica, in fact, is a genre-defying masterpiece. Whilst it
gets tossed into the pile marked “Alternative Rock”, a nonsensical
pigeonhole if ever was one, it sounds like the kinda thing you
could easily envision being covered by Green Day or, just as
likely, Tom Waits.
“I am still living with your ghost,
Lonely and dreaming of the West Coast.”
The two new tracks, Sex With A Movie Star and The New Disease are
both gorgeous, with the former once again utilising startling
simplicity to maximum affect;
“Hollywood girls have those movie star eyes that they use when
they lie about their boyfriends.”
Perhaps most surprisingly of all though, is that Ten Years Gone
features one of those cover versions that actually adds something
to the source material. Especially surprising given that the track
in question, Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl, arrives just after
that Thin Lizzy one mentioned above.
This is a great, great record, one of those pretty rare best-of
deals that actually do justice to the folks concerned. Barring
that shocking snub of Amphetamine, there really ain’t a damn nit
to be picked.
Good work Everclear.
Thanks folks.
Drop The Duke A Line
Yeah, it’s The Duke. Oh, thanks, I like your hair, too.
But shut your fucking trap for a second, Art Alexakis, cause what
I have to discuss is some fairly important tomfoolery. I don’t
know if you know, but Everclear, the band you’ve fronted for the
last ten years, they’ve just gone ahead and released a Best Of,
entitled Ten Years Gone.
Well of course its fantastic Art Alexakis, what kind of moron are
you?
Yeah, it’s released on September 28th. I can’t believe you didn’t
know this. You make me sick sometimes.
Oh, sorry Art Alexakis, there’s some folks here who wanna know all
about this record, so what I’m gonna do is hang up on you right
now, on account of these folks might get to hear our conversation,
and what with you being one of the few rock star types to be voted
Delegate To The National Democratic Convention, no less, I
wouldn't want any state secrets getting out to the motherfucking
communists.
Bye Art Alexakis. Shut up.
Sorry about that folks.
You may remember a couple weeks back or whatever, The Duke
Reviewed The New Supergrass Best-Of. If you didn’t read that
particular article, first of all, I’d like to know what you
thought was more worthy of your time than my motherfucking sweat
and / or blood, is what, and second, the point of it all was that
Supergrass have, without much fuss or accolade, been making some
of the finest pop music of the past decade.
I’m reminded of this because right about now The Duke is listening
to Ten Years Gone – The Best Of Everclear, and basically, I could
just reprint that Supergrass review and maybe change a few song
titles and you wouldn’t know a damn thing about it. Just like
those mutton-chopped sons a bitches what sing about “We are young,
we are free”, Everclear have built up a staggeringly consistent
body of work that is both lyrically incisive and melodically
blinding, and yet, platinum records aside, who really gives a shit?
How many Best Records Of All Ever lists do you see with Everclear
perched in the top 5? About 7 or 3 I’m guessing, which, given the
number of such lists what appear on the web-net every thirty
seconds, is a shockingly disproportionate number.
It’s about now that this needs to be rectified.
Dip into this Best Of anywhere, and chances are you find a tune
fit to leave you smiling like some malcontent just done sniffed
three bin-liners full of UHU.
Those perfect concoctions of gap-toothed punk, anthemic rock and
shimmering pop harmonies, coupled with those narratives regarding
the low-income and the lower-self-esteem, and the old triumph-
against-adversity undercurrent, it’d be enough to have Art
Alexakis hailed as the finest songwriter in post-Nirvana rock
music, if we didn’t know that the title is already taken by Eric
Noble.
Alexakis’ lyrics are swamped in minute observation and a
novelist's flair for getting to the guts of the matter with some
inspired usage of the English language.
Of course, we’re talking good novelists here. I wouldn’t want you
going and assuming Art Alexakis was like that fella behind The
Michelangelo Secret or whatever that shit was called.
Father Of Mine is a prime example. You may remember the song at
the end of KoRn’s first record where Jonathan Davies screamed for
ten minutes about his bastard Pop. It may have been harrowing, and
certainly brave, but Everclear evoke that same frustration,
desperation and anger with one line;
“My daddy gave me a name,
And then he walked away.”
The thing is made all the more heartbreaking on account of the
wistful tune wrapped around it. It’s like that one by Wilco, She’s
A Jar, that sounds like the loveliest damn thing you ever heard
until that final line upends the whole shebang; “You know she begs
me not to hit her.”
But there’s more to it all than the words, although, let’s be
honest here, those words are among the finest a fella could find
this side of “motherfuck” or “dandelion”. There’s a timelessness
to this stuff, a fact illustrated by how little it has dated since
1994. There ain’t many songs from, say, Ten by, I believe,
Soundgarden, that sound as fresh as these.
There are 21 tracks here, (including two new songs), and only one
of them, the by-the-numbers cover of Boys Are Back In Town, sounds
perfunctory. If truth be told, they should have flung that ditty
the hell out the window and put on Amphetamine instead, the
exclusion of which is the only disappointment about the whole
enterprise.
But who has time to worry about that when the likes of Local God
with its sneering “You look so fuckin’ stoopid”, or Heroin Girl
(which has, incidentally, one of the finest opening lyrics in
modern rock – “I used to know a girl, she had two pierced nipples
and a black tattoo”) or the frankly sublime Santa Monica bounding
from the speakers?
Santa Monica, in fact, is a genre-defying masterpiece. Whilst it
gets tossed into the pile marked “Alternative Rock”, a nonsensical
pigeonhole if ever was one, it sounds like the kinda thing you
could easily envision being covered by Green Day or, just as
likely, Tom Waits.
“I am still living with your ghost,
Lonely and dreaming of the West Coast.”
The two new tracks, Sex With A Movie Star and The New Disease are
both gorgeous, with the former once again utilising startling
simplicity to maximum affect;
“Hollywood girls have those movie star eyes that they use when
they lie about their boyfriends.”
Perhaps most surprisingly of all though, is that Ten Years Gone
features one of those cover versions that actually adds something
to the source material. Especially surprising given that the track
in question, Van Morrison’s Brown Eyed Girl, arrives just after
that Thin Lizzy one mentioned above.
This is a great, great record, one of those pretty rare best-of
deals that actually do justice to the folks concerned. Barring
that shocking snub of Amphetamine, there really ain’t a damn nit
to be picked.
Good work Everclear.
Thanks folks.
Drop The Duke A Line
