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eels - daisies of the galaxy (1999)

Track listing:
  1. Grace Kelly Blues 3:37
  2. Packing Blankets 2:07
  3. The Sound Of Fear 3:33
  4. I Like Birds 2:35
  5. Daisies Of The Galaxy 3:27
  6. Flyswatter 3:20
  7. It's A Motherfucker 2:14
  8. Estate Sale 1:36
  9. Tiger In My Tank 3:07
  10. A Daisy Through Concrete 2:26
  11. Jeannie's Diary 3:37
  12. Wooden Nickels 2:55
  13. Something Is Sacred 2:52
  14. Selective Memory 2:44
  15. (Secret Track) 3:58

Notes

The Eels were always a vehicle for a songwriter called (E), but by the point of their third album, 2000's Daisies of the Galaxy, they were his and his alone. When it came time to deliver a follow-up to the intimate, tortured Electro-Shock Blues, (E) couldn't help but deliver a lighter album, but he'd already turned so far into himself that his music was entirely insular. Of course, his music had always been fairly insular, but if Daisies of the Galaxy is any indication, he's gone so far in, he can't really come out. He's certainly not as extreme as Brian Wilson or Syd Barrett, but he's at the level of XTC or Roy Wood, making pop music for an already-established audience. Nothing on Daisies of the Galaxy will draw in casual listeners the way "Novocaine for the Soul" did, since everything is in miniature, from the yardsale production to the poetic scrawlings. Unlike its predecessor, the album doesn't play like (E)'s private diary; instead, it feels as if one is rummaging through his sketchbook. And, like many sketchbooks, some moments have blossomed, and others remain just intriguing, unformed ideas. For the dedicated, it's worth sifting through the album to find the keepers, since there are enough moments of quirky genius. But not all longtime fans will find this rewarding, since (E) has spent more time in creating mood than crafting songs. There are very few melodies that resonate like his best work, and the stripped-down, yet eccentric production — sounding much like a cross between Jon Brion and Beck — never feels realized. That's the problem with an offbeat, gifted musician becoming too insular; there are still clear clues of why he has his reputation, but there's not enough to justify exactly why he does.