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Who:
The Eels, opening for Fiona Apple

When:
Saturday, April 22 at 8 p.m.

Where:
Tennessee Theatre

Tickets:
$25 at Tickets Unlimited outlets or 656-4444

Slippery

One Eel is hard to pin down, proving to be an enigmatic critic's darling

by John Sewell

Shrouded by mystery, Mark Oliver Everett is a true enigma in the pop marketplace. First of all, there's the matter of his name. Everett generally prefers to be referred to as simply E. And then there's the name of his band, The Eels.

The Eels moniker is kind of a misnomer because, even though E does use other musicians, The Eels is basically a one-man show. This is especially true for the upcoming Knoxville performance, where E will perform sans band, accompanying himself on piano. Perhaps for this tour (opening for diva of dour Fiona Apple) he should have been billed as simply E, or gone the singular route and called himself The Eel.

The name is merely the tip of the iceberg when dealing with E's eccentricities. Everett falls in the category of major label prestige artist, garnering a devout cult following and countless accolades in the press without making much more than an occasional ripple in the big pond of album sales.

Just like an Eel, Everett comes to the surface of popular consciousness from time to time and then disappears back into the depths. Even though he's not always in the public eye, E is constantly touring and recording. A big reason for the sporadic progress of the Eels is the machinations of the music industry.

"It sort of seems like that's just the nature of the music business," says E. "If I had it my way, I'd put out two albums a year and not tour so much. I like to make new things: that's what excites me.

"But the way the music business is, you're lucky if you get one album out every two years," E continues. "Everything takes so long. Daisies of The Galaxy [the newest Eels album] was recorded over a year ago. It's not me that takes a long time, it's the industry. I haven't disappeared, although I am thinking about disappearing one of these days."

Often hailed as a genius, E is definitely an introspective type. All of the Eels albums create a melancholic mood that sometimes slips over into the realm of the absurd. The Eels' 1998 release Electroshock Blues, an album that openly dealt with the deaths of his mother [cancer] and his sister [suicide], was so downcast that it's surprising it was ever released. This is hardly the kind of stuff that tops the charts.

"I don't pay too much attention to the business side of things, or I wouldn't make the records that I make," says E. "It's hard to do anything in the music business and it's a miracle that I'm even involved.

"I've just been lucky. I'm incredibly lucky that I got to work with a guy named Lenny Warnaker at Dreamworks Records. He's one of the only, if not the only, record executive left in the industry that really loves music. And he loves what I do.

"A lot of labels, when I turned in Electroshock Blues, they would have just said, 'Look, we're not putting this out.' But when I gave it to Lenny, he said thank you and he shook my hand and that was it. That's a nice thing and it's a really rare situation to be in. Most labels would've stopped me in my tracks while I was making that record."

The release of Daisies finds E on something of an emotional rebound. Sure, there are still some depressive tendencies, and also bit of humor or, at least, pragmatism in the observations of the lyrics. "I'm definitely happier now, but the next album isn't gonna be the pure pop album either," says E.

"I don't know, I think the record company keeps me around because maybe I'll just get lucky and have a hit record every now and then," E continues. "That's possible, because I do have a weakness for melodies and catchy, sing-along phrases maybe. But that's not necessarily the safest bet in the world."

Dangling between the world of alt rock and the singer/songwriter continuum, The Eels' music can be compared to that of Randy Newman or Warren Zevon: melodic, piano-based rock that is free of aural bombast and instead bludgeons the listeners with a velvet hammer of wit. This mix has reaped much critical praise and established Everett as something of a critic's darling stateside.

"Hey, as long as I'm somebody's darling, I guess that's okay," says E, wryly. "But then again, have you seen what most critics look like? They're not attractive dates. Maybe I could do better. Going to the critic's ball is never that much fun."

Though The Eels, E, and Everett (all the same person) are not yet household names in America, things are definitely looking up. The Eels are much more successful in Europe, where Everett can actually afford to bring his entire backing band with him on the road. The current solo tour with Fiona apple is gaining new converts on the home front. And, for once, E is having a good time.

"It's actually been really nice playing with Fiona," says E. "Her audiences are really nice and it has gone over really well so far. I'm actually enjoying touring right now. Something has changed in me I suppose. I don't get homesick any more. But it really helps if you don't have a life back home. Then you start to feel like, 'Okay, my life is on the road.'"
 

April 20, 2000 * Vol. 10, No. 16
© 2000 Metro Pulse