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bookysue's review against another edition
4.0
Thanks to my older sister, I grew up listening to the Eels, but like many people, I never knew anything about Mark Everett. And, while I liked the Eels, they were never my favorite band, so I never knew he had written his memoir, nor would I have thought much of it if I'd known.
And this is where I want to emphasize that this book stands on its own, regardless of whether you are a huge Eels fan or not. He does include some passages of lyrics in the book, when his writing them fits into the story, and it was nice to have a working knowledge of what the songs he was talking about sounded like, but it's certainly not necessary. Because, yes, he's the frontman of a fairly popular band, but that's not what makes this book great. Instead, it's the fact that he's led such an interesting life, only part of which is due to the fact that he's the frontman of a fairly popular band.
The book is sad and funny, and his voice is so honest and conversational that it feels more like sitting down with your favorite uncle while he tells you some interesting parts of his life. And some parts are more intimate and feel almost like reading someone's journal. I think that's one of the things that stands out to me about this memoir in particular -- Everett writes not just of events that happened or action that will move the "plot" along; he often explains in detail how he was feeling at a particular point in time, or what he was thinking and how he came to do a certain thing. It made for a really interesting story.
One thing that brought me down a little bit while I was reading was that there are several passages where he gets a bit cocky, despite his claim that he's really not like that, and it made me like him (and therefore "his character") a little less. These parts were half-joking, like when he talks about the Prettiest Girl in Junior High trying to get on his tour bus, or when he schools some other lame person who's not as rich and famous as he is, but they just gave me a creepy vibe and took me out of the story for a moment.
Another thing I thought worth noting is that it's funny to read someone's memoirs in THE AGE OF THE INTERNET because if you're interested in something they say, you can potentially look it up and find out more about it. In this book, that was the plane crash he mentioned happening in his neighborhood when he was "around 12." I was curious about it, and I thought there couldn't have been that many plane crashes in McLean, Virginia in the '70s, so I googled it. Turns out it happened when he was 14, and it was actually a corporate jet with only 4 people on board, including the crew. So when he says there were body parts all over his neighborhood, and a group of bodies in the park, it's weird to be able to find out that that's partly his 14-year-old imagination running a bit wild. I mean, I realize it would still be a traumatizing event, and he was a kid, so of course he's not going to remember it 100% accurately, and I'm not faulting him for that. It was just interesting to find out what really happened that night, and to see the differences between what he remembered and the facts.
Anyway, I really recommend this one from the memoir genre. My dad's been talking about writing his memoirs for years, and this was the book I sent him to gently remind him to get to work.
And this is where I want to emphasize that this book stands on its own, regardless of whether you are a huge Eels fan or not. He does include some passages of lyrics in the book, when his writing them fits into the story, and it was nice to have a working knowledge of what the songs he was talking about sounded like, but it's certainly not necessary. Because, yes, he's the frontman of a fairly popular band, but that's not what makes this book great. Instead, it's the fact that he's led such an interesting life, only part of which is due to the fact that he's the frontman of a fairly popular band.
The book is sad and funny, and his voice is so honest and conversational that it feels more like sitting down with your favorite uncle while he tells you some interesting parts of his life. And some parts are more intimate and feel almost like reading someone's journal. I think that's one of the things that stands out to me about this memoir in particular -- Everett writes not just of events that happened or action that will move the "plot" along; he often explains in detail how he was feeling at a particular point in time, or what he was thinking and how he came to do a certain thing. It made for a really interesting story.
One thing that brought me down a little bit while I was reading was that there are several passages where he gets a bit cocky, despite his claim that he's really not like that, and it made me like him (and therefore "his character") a little less. These parts were half-joking, like when he talks about the Prettiest Girl in Junior High trying to get on his tour bus, or when he schools some other lame person who's not as rich and famous as he is, but they just gave me a creepy vibe and took me out of the story for a moment.
Another thing I thought worth noting is that it's funny to read someone's memoirs in THE AGE OF THE INTERNET because if you're interested in something they say, you can potentially look it up and find out more about it. In this book, that was the plane crash he mentioned happening in his neighborhood when he was "around 12." I was curious about it, and I thought there couldn't have been that many plane crashes in McLean, Virginia in the '70s, so I googled it. Turns out it happened when he was 14, and it was actually a corporate jet with only 4 people on board, including the crew. So when he says there were body parts all over his neighborhood, and a group of bodies in the park, it's weird to be able to find out that that's partly his 14-year-old imagination running a bit wild. I mean, I realize it would still be a traumatizing event, and he was a kid, so of course he's not going to remember it 100% accurately, and I'm not faulting him for that. It was just interesting to find out what really happened that night, and to see the differences between what he remembered and the facts.
Anyway, I really recommend this one from the memoir genre. My dad's been talking about writing his memoirs for years, and this was the book I sent him to gently remind him to get to work.
sandin954's review against another edition
3.0
Memoir of the lead singer of the Eels (remember the song Novocaine for the Soul).
laurie_bee's review against another edition
3.0
E's life wouldn't allow him to write a generic rock autobiography: the series of tragedies and crazy ex-girlfriends give him interesting subject matter to work with. Each member of his dysfunctional family could probably have their own separate book written about them. Little is said about E's father within the book which was a bit disappointing after watching "Parallel Worlds, Parallel Lives" a documentary about his life and multiple worlds theory. That being said, we hear a lot about his sister Liz and her downward spiral and the contrast between her fate and E's determination to carry on is particularly life affirming.
Although being an Eels fan isn't necessary to appreciate this book, it certainly made me more appreciative of Eels afterwards. He occasionally includes lyrics inspired by the period of his life that he's describing which adds meaning to the song.
His sense of humour is surprising given all the tragedy he has experienced but it makes the book an easy read.
Although being an Eels fan isn't necessary to appreciate this book, it certainly made me more appreciative of Eels afterwards. He occasionally includes lyrics inspired by the period of his life that he's describing which adds meaning to the song.
His sense of humour is surprising given all the tragedy he has experienced but it makes the book an easy read.
dasenergi's review against another edition
A book for artists everywhere, not just for fans of The Eels.
karieh13's review against another edition
4.0
Thanks to the Early Reviewers program, reading “Things the Grandchildren Should Know” was a new experience for me. As with most people, the biographies I read are always about someone I know a great deal about, or have heard of, or at least have some interest in.
I can honestly say I’ve never heard of Mark Oliver Everett (sorry, Mark) or the music group he founded, the EELS. But when I received this book in the mail and read the praise on the back and the first page that proclaims, “The following is a true story. Some names and hair colors have been changed.”, I was all in.
Before going further, I did make myself a promise that I wouldn’t use the power of the Internet to find out ANYTHING about Everett…I would only learn about him through his own words. (Although once his career started to take off and he started to meet more and more famous people – I was sorely tempted.)
And so I learned about this very thoughtful and very funny man through the lens with which he sees his life and world.
I say funny even though much that I found funny was in a sort of startled, shocked way…words that caught me off guard, forcing me to go back and confirm that I’d read what I thought I had. The first part of many of his anecdotes lull you into thinking all is well…and then his last few words practically grab on to your eyeballs.
“It’s weird hanging out and sleeping in the same room with two people you’ve never spoken to and aren’t allowed to speak to, but I was trained pretty well for this by being in the same room with my father all those years.”
And: “At the end of the summer, which I had already started referring to as The Summer of Love, I drove my gold ’71 Chevy Nova away from home for the first time. I had bought the car that I called “Old Gold” complete with a stop sign used in place of its rusted-out floorboard, for a hundred bucks from my hot, blonde cousin Jennifer, who years later would die on the plane that hit the Pentagon September 11, 2001. She was a flight attendant. Sent a postcard from Dulles Airport that morning that read “Ain’t Life Grand?” in big letters on the front.”
Weren’t expecting that, were you?
And some things just made me smile. “Reviews don’t really mean anything if you look at the history of rock journalism. They usually can’t tell what will stand the test of time when they review something brand new on a tight deadline, but I’m going to let myself feel good about this. (Book reviewers: this doesn’t mean you, of course. I have nothing but the utmost respect for what you do. How do you like the book so far?)”
But what stands out in this book, this story, this life is Everett’s honesty about some of the most difficult, gut wrenching and sometimes embarrassing parts of his life.
“Pretty soon after that, (after his sister Liz attempts suicide) Liz and my mom went out of town to visit relatives and I found my father’s dead body lying there sideways on my parents’ bed, fully dressed in his usual shirt and tie, with his feet almost on the floor, like he just sat down to die at fifty-one. I tried to learn CPR from the 911 operator on the phone, carrying my father’s already-stiff body across the bedroom floor. It was weird touching him. That was the first time we had any physical contact that I could remember, other than the occasional cigarette burn on my arm while squeezing by him in the hallway.”
That paragraph, by the way? On page 2.
Everett’s way of expressing himself is just so clear and so blunt that his words really hit home.
“Bob Dylan said that, when he was young, he had a secret sense of his destiny. I wish I had something like that, but I didn’t. At all. All I had was an aching sense of desperation and an acute cluelessness – a nasty combination.”
And even after Everett’s career proves to be a pretty solid success, “I still have occasional bouts of desperation where I feel like there’s no hope. And I hate going to a new doctor or dentist. Not for the usual reasons, though. It’s the part where you fill out the personal information, when I get to, IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, CONTACT: I don’t know what to put there, and it makes me really sad and embarrassed. It’s the loneliest feeling, having no family. Holidays really suck and I usually try to pretend they’re not happening. On the bright side, Christmas shopping is a cinch.”
Mark Oliver Everett’s memoir is touching, funny, incredibly sad, and self deprecating. (“So what kind of an ego do you have to have to write a book about your life and expect anyone to care? A huge one!”)
I enjoyed this book immensely. Not only is the book an excellent read, his song lyrics, even absent of the music behind them, were at turns deeply disturbing and deeply moving. They stand alone as poetry. Lovely, sad, and above all, honest.
Because Everett’s main focus is his music, and because this book covers most of his life, the odds that I get to read anything else by him are slim, but if he chooses to write more, I’m in, I’m all in.
I can honestly say I’ve never heard of Mark Oliver Everett (sorry, Mark) or the music group he founded, the EELS. But when I received this book in the mail and read the praise on the back and the first page that proclaims, “The following is a true story. Some names and hair colors have been changed.”, I was all in.
Before going further, I did make myself a promise that I wouldn’t use the power of the Internet to find out ANYTHING about Everett…I would only learn about him through his own words. (Although once his career started to take off and he started to meet more and more famous people – I was sorely tempted.)
And so I learned about this very thoughtful and very funny man through the lens with which he sees his life and world.
I say funny even though much that I found funny was in a sort of startled, shocked way…words that caught me off guard, forcing me to go back and confirm that I’d read what I thought I had. The first part of many of his anecdotes lull you into thinking all is well…and then his last few words practically grab on to your eyeballs.
“It’s weird hanging out and sleeping in the same room with two people you’ve never spoken to and aren’t allowed to speak to, but I was trained pretty well for this by being in the same room with my father all those years.”
And: “At the end of the summer, which I had already started referring to as The Summer of Love, I drove my gold ’71 Chevy Nova away from home for the first time. I had bought the car that I called “Old Gold” complete with a stop sign used in place of its rusted-out floorboard, for a hundred bucks from my hot, blonde cousin Jennifer, who years later would die on the plane that hit the Pentagon September 11, 2001. She was a flight attendant. Sent a postcard from Dulles Airport that morning that read “Ain’t Life Grand?” in big letters on the front.”
Weren’t expecting that, were you?
And some things just made me smile. “Reviews don’t really mean anything if you look at the history of rock journalism. They usually can’t tell what will stand the test of time when they review something brand new on a tight deadline, but I’m going to let myself feel good about this. (Book reviewers: this doesn’t mean you, of course. I have nothing but the utmost respect for what you do. How do you like the book so far?)”
But what stands out in this book, this story, this life is Everett’s honesty about some of the most difficult, gut wrenching and sometimes embarrassing parts of his life.
“Pretty soon after that, (after his sister Liz attempts suicide) Liz and my mom went out of town to visit relatives and I found my father’s dead body lying there sideways on my parents’ bed, fully dressed in his usual shirt and tie, with his feet almost on the floor, like he just sat down to die at fifty-one. I tried to learn CPR from the 911 operator on the phone, carrying my father’s already-stiff body across the bedroom floor. It was weird touching him. That was the first time we had any physical contact that I could remember, other than the occasional cigarette burn on my arm while squeezing by him in the hallway.”
That paragraph, by the way? On page 2.
Everett’s way of expressing himself is just so clear and so blunt that his words really hit home.
“Bob Dylan said that, when he was young, he had a secret sense of his destiny. I wish I had something like that, but I didn’t. At all. All I had was an aching sense of desperation and an acute cluelessness – a nasty combination.”
And even after Everett’s career proves to be a pretty solid success, “I still have occasional bouts of desperation where I feel like there’s no hope. And I hate going to a new doctor or dentist. Not for the usual reasons, though. It’s the part where you fill out the personal information, when I get to, IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, CONTACT: I don’t know what to put there, and it makes me really sad and embarrassed. It’s the loneliest feeling, having no family. Holidays really suck and I usually try to pretend they’re not happening. On the bright side, Christmas shopping is a cinch.”
Mark Oliver Everett’s memoir is touching, funny, incredibly sad, and self deprecating. (“So what kind of an ego do you have to have to write a book about your life and expect anyone to care? A huge one!”)
I enjoyed this book immensely. Not only is the book an excellent read, his song lyrics, even absent of the music behind them, were at turns deeply disturbing and deeply moving. They stand alone as poetry. Lovely, sad, and above all, honest.
Because Everett’s main focus is his music, and because this book covers most of his life, the odds that I get to read anything else by him are slim, but if he chooses to write more, I’m in, I’m all in.
ollybolly84's review against another edition
4.0
Adds another dimension to a fantastic body of work. Heartbreaking.
samusiamus's review against another edition
5.0
"I'd been through a lot but--I'm OK. And if I want to be, I'm better than OK. I'm certainly not the most well-adjusted person on Earth, but considering everything . . . I mean--I survived. And I survived just by being me. How lucky and amazing is that?" (p. 233)
I can't put into words how happy I feel to have read this book finally. When I was in high school in the late 90s I had somehow discovered E's "Last Stop: This Town" song (and the strange video) and fell in love with the band. It was a band I didn't listen to often but really enjoyed, I guess it's the things you admire most that you want to keep at arm's length just so it stays special.
In 2018, Eels were coming through my city and I HAD to see them. I invited my brand-new boyfriend to go with me to my first concert of a band I had an ethereal love for. It was an amazing show, and I couldn't quite explain to my boyfriend the feeling I was feeling seeing E in person for the first time after only knowing his voice, and with a faint image of what he looked like in the Last Stop video. I was so excited to be there, I bought a poster. I rarely buy posters, but I bought one and paid more for a frame to put it in than I paid for it. It's worth it.
Equally as awe inspiring is his memoir. I read it in about a day in two different sittings. It's a short read, but I enjoyed every second of it. I knew of some of the hardships he experienced in life from an article or two, maybe his wikipedia page, but I felt better knowing what he went through as told by his own words. We're all so lucky that he was able to always see a sliver of silver on every dark cloud that passed above him.