eels
Souljacker
DreamWorks Records

After a largely forgettable solo career, Mark Everett, aka the Man Called E, found just the right frame for his tragicomic musings in the guise of eels. The project's generally twisted sensibility lays almost folky, straightforward material next to drum machine beats, sampled symphonies, anguished shouts and distorted guitars. Gorgeous radio hit "Novacaine for the Soul" has been the biggest commercial payoff to date, but sad, smart moments of utter beauty are littered throughout eels' four studio albums.

The captivating moments in E's catalog thus far have explored the tension between despair and hope. For instance, there is a song like Electroshock Blues' "Elizabeth On The Bathroom Floor," which quotes from his sister's diary during her suicidal depression. On the other side of the spectrum, simple but powerful sentiments like "Maybe it's time to live" ("P.S. You Rock My World," also off Electroshock) or "I think you know I'll be OK" (Daisies of the Galaxy's "Grace Kelly Blues") occasionally peek through the gloom.

New release Souljacker continues to explore the lives of the left-behind and the not-so-beautiful freaks, this time fully amplified to rock. Opening track "Dog Faced Boy" builds to a foaming-mouthed rave over a dirty garage riff and descending lead, playing something like the theme for a bizarro TV show: "Mom won't shave me/ Jesus can't save me/ Dog faced boy!" (Insert devil's horn hand salute here.)

The raw feel continues on songs like "Souljacker part I," an angry incest-themed narrative sitting atop the kind of nasty spy-theme groove that helped make "Hash Pipe" the most interesting thing about Weezer's disappointing 2001 comeback. "Jungle Telegraph" and the first half of closer "What Is This Note?" lay out more garbled-but-fun cathartic madness, although the latter settles into a spooky acoustic coda.

In between, the harsh moments are similarly played against softer interludes like "Woman Driving, Man Sleeping" to great effect. Among this more restrained material is the album's pop apex, "Fresh Feeling," which plays a funky looped breakbeat against a lush orchestral sample and — surprise of surprises — a purely optimistic set of lyrics. While it wouldn't be unlike E to play a cheer-up song for sarcastic laughs, in this case it's hard to pick up the wink or smirk. The minor miracle is that, in spite of lyrics about "birds singing a song" and "my heart... reeling," the song's inspirational bent actually works. A catchy singalong chorus must be part of the magic.

Picking up the hope vs. despair string, the bluntly titled "World of Shit" suggests that once one accepts that the glass is (even more than) half empty you can say, "What the hell?" and get on with things. Sparse and simple, "Souljacker part 2" comes off as the world's most morbid nursery rhyme, returning to the resigned, yet determined, refrain, "The souljacker can't get my soul."

Between the grooves of Souljacker it's hard to hear the masterpiece that the breathless overseas press has heralded, but E and his crew have put together another solid outing that touches on broader sonic and emotional vistas yet left to explore.

The US issue of Souljacker includes the bonus Rotten World EP, made up of a remix and a handful of Beck-ish throwaways that call attention to themselves as such — a treat for the eels faithful, but offering little to the average listener.

— Wayne Lewis (capsighs@pacbell.net)