Take one part despair, one part hope and one part black comedy, mix it together with pure driving rock, classical strings, jazzy embellishments, power-pop glee and a mix of samples, overdubs and disparate sounds, and you have what's made the Eels the Eels -- and only the Eels -- for the last six years. Nowhere is this dynamic better exemplified than on the bonus track "I Write the B-sides," from their fourth release, Souljacker. "I write the B-sides that make a small portion of the world cry/I like the seaside and singing songs that make you not want to die," sings Eels frontman E. In two lines, he sums up his band's six-year career.

Beautiful Freak built pop music out of opposing viewpoints: the internal plea for respite on "Novocaine for the Soul" versus the external critique of the American Dream on "Rags to Rags." For their next two efforts, their journey turned inward as the deaths of E's mother and sister dominated the Eels' second album, Electro-Shock Blues, and much of the their next album, Daisies of the Galaxy.

Electro-Shock Blues is like a guidebook through the land of desolation and the place just beyond where the details of sorrow, cancer and depression create a humor entirely its own. Daisies of the Galaxy takes listeners on a different tour, a traipse through the day-to-day effort to overcome grief.

Sonically and emotionally, Souljacker encompasses all their previous efforts. The focus is still internal, but not autobiographic, as invented characters -- a serial killer, a hairy boy, a witch, ghosts, to name a few -- navigate through a soulless world. The humor is sometimes disquieting. "Dog Faced Boy" is set to a propulsive, rock-anthem beat, which makes the hopelessly tragic, hairy, main character the hero at the same time it makes his plight all the more laughable. The ridiculed husband in "That's Not Really Funny" is really funny, as a Latin big-band sound scores his request to his wife to show some respect. And in between the harrowing tales are three love songs that never lose their wry humor even as they are deeply sincere. "World of Shit" speaks for itself, while "Fresh Feeling" co-opts the tag line from a feminine product commercial and "What is This Note?" is a love letter hidden inside a thrash metal song. If "I Write the B-sides" sums up what the Eels have done, "World of Shit" hints at where they're going: "I spent so many days just staring at the haze/And I think that's a book that I don't have to write again."

"Souljacker" seems like a closer companion to "Electro-Shock Blues" than "Daisies of the Galaxy" . . .

Some of the stuff we did back then and worked on it piece by piece while working on the other records. Because of all the things that were happening -- the tragedies in my life during the Electro-Shock Blues times -- I went to this meditation retreat that a friend had gone to and I just stopped everything. You couldn't read or write or speak for ten days, and that's when idea of all this souljacker stuff started. I'd heard about this serial killer called "The Souljacker" that I guess the press had coined the name for him, and this guy was claiming to steal the soul of his victims. I was sitting out in the woods for ten days, not talking, which is a very different experience for me 'cause I'm not some New Age kook or something. I just kind of became aware of this idea of that there is something good inside of all of us, and if we know it's there and we want to keep it, nobody can take it away.

So what was the meditation retreat like? Did it help?

It was great. It was very difficult. People who have gone to prison go to this thing and say it was harder than prison. The only rule I broke was I had to go write the song "Souljacker Part II" on toilet paper 'cause you weren't allowed to write. But it was driving me insane, having this song going through my head. I would have these passionate dreams about calling my answering machine and singing it just to get it out of my head. So finally, the only pencil I could find was the outdoor bathroom where there was a clipboard and a pencil tied to it so you can sign up to clean the bathroom. So I signed up to clean the bathroom and then I would hide in the stall and write this song in the toilet stall and then people would walk in and I'd have hid it, like I was doing drugs or something. But I was just trying to write a song.

And the toilet paper didn't tear?

Well, when you're roughing it out in the woods everything's not as easy as it once was [laughs].

So it was worth it?

It was a great thing. It's a pretty big deal to become aware of something really good inside you that you weren't even sure was there before.

So you believe in the idea of a soul? Are you religious at all?

I don't know about in a religious way or not. I just know that there can be something good there for everybody, and it's up to us to mine it. I think all religions are fucked. I might hate some of them a little more than others, but you know . . . My father was a physicist; he knew too much to fall for that shit.

A few Jehovah's Witnesses were discussing the song "Jehovah's Witness" on the Eels' message boards. One was pretty upset. I guess Jehovah's Witness is not big on your list of favorite religions?

I'm guessing they're probably missing the point. I'm doing things as a writer from a writer's point of view, and that's supposed to be a funny song about a guy who doesn't want to be bothered. It's just about . . . OK, the song's about me [laughs]. I don't like it when uninvited company comes to the door. I like to be left alone more often than not, and it's just this funny song about a guy who's like, "Goddamn you, you Jehovah's Witness! Leave me alone! Don't tell me I'm going to hell! You're going to hell for bothering me right now!' It's just a joke.

There's was another Jehovah's Witness who made that very point to the person who was upset.

Well that's nice that somebody understood. It's hard, because of the ironic times we live in and because I do tend to have an ironic sense of humor, like a lot of us do, it can become confusing to some people who aren't sure what's on the level and what's from the heart. And though it's all from the heart, even a character like this, that is how I felt at the time, but it's not to be taken like some serious statement.

More than previous Eels albums, the songs on "Souljacker" resemble short stories. They have plots, characters, narrative arcs. Do you read a lot of fiction?

I am definitely a short story fan. I like Raymond Carver and that kind of stuff. But I don't like to get influenced too much. I don't listen to a lot of modern music, and I don't read a lot of modern fiction. I'm more interested in just doing my thing. But yeah, it's much more character-driven and less autobiographical than the other ones. I felt like I didn't need to write about personal situations, whereas in the past I really needed to. But a lot of the stuff in the past that's thought to be autobiographical isn't. It's maybe inspired by situations in my life or someone who's close to me, but it's often a character, that's not a real situation. And then some songs really are like bare bones, very autobiographical.

Most pop songs, if they're sad, they're sad. And if they're happy, they're only happy. But the Eels manage to hit more emotional notes, particularly combining humor and sadness.

I think it's important to have a sense of humor with this stuff, and I guess it sort of happens naturally with my sense of humor because, for me anyway, it makes the sad stuff more meaningful. It means I can take it to heart a lot easier and it means more to me if there's a balance. I don't know if "Dog Faced Boy" would be a favorite song of mine if it was just sad. And there's no easy trick to being sad and funny. Writing a pop song is harder than it seems, probably, because you have such a small amount of space to tell your story. You look at how many lines are in these songs and it's not very many.

"That's Not Really Funny" is very funny, partly because the song has this big-band sound to it.

It's sort of, the pain of the insecure male. The macho man needed a voice. I give [co-writer/co-producer] John Parish all the credit for that song -- he's the architect for that one. I really love that song because it really rocks, but it doesn't have any of the usual elements of what people normally think of as something that rocks. There's no bass guitar, there's barely any drums, you don't notice any of that. I think people have forgotten what rocks about rock. The rock itself is not about turning your amp on eleven. You can rock with spoons and a washboard. It's about having people who have it inside them -- it's about the groove I guess, really.

So you wanted this record to be a lot heavier?

I did want it to rock 'cause I felt like rocking. Because I can, I felt like I should. For me, rock has to have maracas shaking and tom toms banging, and if it has that, it's rock. And it can't just be random; it has to be done correctly. And hopefully that's what we have here.

While previous records dealt with the big issues: death, illness, it seems like for the characters in "Souljacker" it's the smaller, everyday, unpleasant surprises that rob people of their souls.

There's just everyday indignities that slowly beat you down, people just being rude, that in small ways can ruin your day to point where, if it keeps happening, it starts to like make you lose your faith. I am interested in that -- those small things that happen every day they get to me. But I don't feel so slapped these days. Things have been going a lot better for me personally. But I'm concerned for everyone else [laughs].

That's good to know. Speaking of things going better, you also have three love songs on this album. How did they fit into the "Souljacker" world?

Well I'm always trying to keep things somewhat balanced. I never set out to make something all one thing or the other. I did have a sequence of the album, at one point, that was just kind of relentlessly pummeling rock from beginning to end, and I decided I would just better serve the pummeling rock if there were some moments to kind of cleanse the palate or something. If somebody comes and punches you in the face all day, it's hard to appreciate you're being punched in the face. After the first hour or so if they give you a break and let you go out for ice cream and then you come back and [they] punch you again, then you realize you're being punched again. I hope this analogy has been helpful [laughs].

So I hear you're married?

I just celebrated a year anniversary in December.

Congratulations. How'd you meet?

We were patients at a clinic in Germany. I was in between tours and everyone went home, and I had no reason to go home. I had no life, no one to go back and see or anything and I'd heard about this kooky doc out in the country, outside Hamburg, who was supposedly good at recharging your batteries and so I thought, 'What the hell? I got nothing else to do.' We were the only two patients there. And [the doctor] didn't make me feel any better, but I got a wife out of it so it turned out to be a good trip.

So she's German?

She's from Russia and she had to go back to Russia. I had to go back on tour so it was a long-distance relationship for a while.

Is she here now? Does she like living here?

She came to America. She hates it. She just went back to Russia now while I'm on this tour, and for the first time she has become homesick for America, so that's a good sign.

Was she an Eels fan?

No. She thinks I've only written two good songs, and one of them is about her and that's probably the only reason why.

Which ones?

"It's a Motherfucker" and "Fresh Feeling." Her first words to me were [in a Russian accent], 'You are not beautiful.'

I would have been discouraged.

Initially I was discouraged, but things worked out in the end.

CHRISTINA SARACENO
(April 12, 2002)