“Driving Myself Mad With Mental Health and Gender Stuff” – Efficax Interview

Elle Gilliam is always taking her art places.

Over the course of the last five years, it’s difficult to think of many other musical artists who have so consistently and animatedly pushed their sound and style to more expansive and challenging places. When she first came to the notice of Necessary Evil, it was with the gorgeous, lilting, acoustic near Americana of ‘Picture Perfect Depression‘ in 2019, back when she was still recording as Helltown*. Her music five years on bears little resemblance to those essentially standard guitar based records, and along the way she’s also dragged it into so many avenues and artistic tangents that it has been anything but a straight progression.

(*and also still… y’know… mostly identifying as male…)

You may remember me interviewing Elle last year, so it makes sense that I would reach out to her on the 12 month anniversary to get an update on her current status, both artistically and personally. Well, that would have been in February, so fuck me I guess. Wonderfully though, Efficax soon released their follow up album to last year’s ‘DESTROYER‘, so I could at least question Elle about the themes and inspirations behind their new album to coincide with its release date. Well, that was in April, so fuck me I guess.

However, only six months after this essential record was released, I managed to tie Elle down and ask for her to talk us through the record’s fourteen tracks. As far as you all know, we met in a dusty but quaintly adorable bookshop cum cafe in the back streets of Los Angeles. Elle was nursing a kumquat espresso and idly browsing through a Breanne Fahs book when I came in, blinded by the rays of the mid afternoon sun trickling through her long hair. I sat down and apologised for the smell – I thought I’d seen a tuna sandwich in the bins outside the shop that unfortunately turned out to be a dead raccoon – and we began:

guess i got my fucking answer

#10 The Hotelier: It Never Goes Out

We leave our higher educations that we all ‘must’ get
With a signature stamped paper and a mound of debt
The bank has got us by the throat and then we’re forced to settle
For the jobs we hate, 9 to 5, 40 hour, 40 years ’til the day
We are too weak to work, too frail to play
No friends or lovers because they all passed away
We’ve waited for this day all our lives long
And on our death bed the stereo plays our favorite teenage anthem song
And we sing along

Our Lives Would Make a Sad, Boring Movie

We into the top ten, God dammit! With, another album was wasn’t actually released this year: The Hotelier’s 2011 debut album that I just needed to complete my set.

I KEEP CHOKING ON MY FEARS

Frankie valet Force a Little Exception of Their Own

“Everyone is speechless from afar”

Frankie valet, Nakid 2020

“By removing art from capitalism while allowing capitalism to thrive elsewhere unfettered we are in danger of removing any benefit of speaking in the first place so the artists may as well remain speechless. From afar, I guess. Yeah, that works”

This Blog, This Post, just now

sold-best-buy-swallows-napster-for-121-million-bby

(it was suggested that these pieces should link to the album at the start rather than the end. So here it is, now please stop sending me those abusive text messages)

I’m old enough (late, late, late late* twenties) to remember a career in arts being at least a quasi viable life choice. Nobody would kid themselves that they would make it to be ‘Goo Goo Dolls Big’, where you would earn enough money to finance a daily trip to Mars to wave stacks of Molybdenums in the seediest strip clubs of Tharsis’s Northern Edge and get yourself some of that sweet, sweet Martian poontang (John Rzeznik really lived the dream in that sense), but you’d be able to comfortably exist composing your Romo paeans to Garry Flitcroft without too many people getting on your case. You’d likely do a handful of Peel Sessions before you even released that song about his fringe. I mean, sure, people would still get on your back about getting a ‘real job’, but that’s just because back then a ‘real job’ meant a job that you absolutely hated and that made you seriously consider taking a sledgehammer to your knees each morning just as an excuse not to subject yourself to one more day to the joyless and soul destroying churn of capitalism. Y’know, the same as today. You created something, there were more options for getting people to experience that thing you created, and if people liked that thing enough they would pay you a bit of money to experience it whenever they want. Maybe they’d never been able to hear it, but it had received such good reviews from the reams of art review magazines (that they’d already paid £2 for) that people decide you’re worth the risk and buy your Flitcroft Fantasies CD single backed with a Groove Armada remix and acoustic cover of Lisa Loeb. Hopefully they’d buy the next thing you created as well, maybe the next thing after that. Maybe not the next thing after that, because let’s face it that was absolute pants, but the next thing after that would be hailed as a return to form so they’d jump back on board.

Continue reading “Frankie valet Force a Little Exception of Their Own”