... Omniscient Narrator: Dear friends, ... be it from out of some dark hole in Cleveland, Columbus ... or New York City, ... it’s evident, with an attitude like that, the Electric Eels aren’t going anywhere in this or next year's music business cycle. Even if it’s all true what’s being said around, that “Some really cool bands are getting signed!”—those bands are not THIS band. Beckoned, each, individually, years ago by Nihilism's only bottled begotten son, the collective Eels are now well down into the alcoholic whirlpool. At this point in their dissolution, the single sure thing on the horizon is an inevitable step off a flat Earth. And the sole guarantee to whomever’s along for the ride come Judgment Day is a like fate.

The E E’s are the real McCoy— they absolutely do not care. It's why they sound the way they do. It’s why they behave so badly. And it’s why other Cleveland bands— knowing the Eels don't have a shot—steal from them. Christ, twenty years from tonight’s “last call” at the London Grill Cle-contemporaries’ll be liberally dropping the band’s name whenever it plays to their gain. Even presently, Dead Boys are keeping themselves occupied tearing off little pieces of Eel’tude to use as tender in the underground markets of New York, Paris, and Amsterdam. As the DB’s, and other ambitious assemblies, abacus the advantages that come gift-wrapped in being NOT of the philosophy which spawns the sneers they’ll wear to the stage, our Eelings can’t even begin to imagine what a little bit of reckoned politicking of their own might do for them. That, properly courted, someone of influence and position in the record industry might actually like the Electric Eels’ music enough to promote it!

Hey, what if expatriating ensembles did include the Eels among their number? Imagine our boys winding up in New York. Can anyone who knows them seriously fancy Dave and Brian hanging around the Factory; or shamming at the Chelsea; or loitering the door at Max's Kansas City? Hardly! (Though both think Morton was born to that kind of thing.)

“John’s quite social,” Brian observes, frequently.

“Yeah, in a kind of sociopathic sense!” Davy agrees, invariably .