MOG

It's not immediately obvious how to approach Eels' latest collections. And the last word of that opening sentence gives a clue as to why this might be.

Meet the Eels presents - in chronological order - the 'best of' the band's output over the past decade or so. A reasonably conventional 'greatest hits'-type affair. Released simultaneously - although not necessarily bundled with Meet the Eels - is a sprawling compilation of 50 B-sides, remixes, demos, live recordings and suchlike: Useless Trinkets. In a way, these two collections are polar opposites. Meet the Eels - as the name suggests - is inevitably somewhat 'introductory' in nature; Useless Trinkets, meanwhile, is for the Eels aficionado. So reviewing them together seems slightly counter-productive. So ... I won't.

MEET THE EELS

Some musicians are served well by the 'best of' compilation - which can work as a kind of musical biography (especially if, as in this case, tracks are ordered chronologically). To Eels, though, I'm not sure that the format is particularly well-suited: it does not play to the band's strengths.

Mark Oliver Everett (Eels frontman and lynchpin) writes simple, predictable - often almost childish and music-box-like - melodies and chord progressions. 'My Beloved Monster'; 'Last Stop: This Town'; 'Trouble With Dreams' ... He is admirably unafraid to use the obvious musical motif when it works, and to present it in a way that unashamedly capitalises on its accessibility (fuzzed guitars and sampled beats still support rather than undermine the melodic nature of the tracks). At the same time, though, his lyrics often radically contradict the breezy, naive nature of the music. In my opinion, one of the most compelling features of the band is the way in which this tension is maintained and managed.

The effect of a 'best of', though, is to disrupt the balance between simplicity and complexity. What comes across most strongly from Meet The Eels is the band's gift for the catchy hook and singable refrain. This sells them short. Although many of my favourite songs are present - and although this is by no means a collection of 'just the happy ones' - there is nevertheless an unavoidable hint of glibness inherent in the back-to-back way in which they are presented. I miss the less obvious 'interlude' tracks that act as musical palate-cleansers on Eels albums, and serve to give the 'hits' a context.

If I listen through to the band's brilliant Electro-Shock Blues - or recent double-album Blinking Lights and Other Revelations - I can practically guarantee that I will be moved. There are staggeringly few albums about which I can say that. It is to Eels' credit that the 'keystone' tracks from the aforementioned records ('PS You Rock My World' from Electro-Shock Blues; 'If You See Natalie'; 'Things The Grandchildren Should Know' from Blinking Lights) don't show up on Meet The Eels (though I would rather the fussy alternative version of 'Climbing To The Moon' had been similarly omitted). I say this is to their credit because I think the emotional power of the above songs is inseparable from the context in which they occur in their respective albums - and to have included them in a compilation would have cheapened them, somehow.

Without such tracks, though, the listener Meet[ing] The Eels for the first time via this collection won't be exposed to what is (in my view) actually 'best' about the band. But here I'm arguing myself into a corner. Because, for me, a 'Best of' the Eels would probably be, well, a copy of Blinking Lights.

In short, Meet The Eels demonstrates brilliantly the degree to which the Eels write brilliant, catchy, accessible pop songs - and are fully deserving of a 'greatest hits' compilation. At the same time, though, with a hint of the paradoxical, it does the band a profound disservice in implying that this is what they are about.

Oh. One closing question, though: what's the cover of 'Get Ur Freak On' doing here? Great original; pointless, here.

So that's half a job done. I'll post my thoughts on Useless Trinkets soon.

Posted on 02/10/2008