Eels treat audience to healthy dose of rock

By Kelsey McConnell
Daily Bruin Contributor

Holding his mouth like that of a toothless old man, the
Eels’ Zen-calm frontman, E, played everyone in his
shoulder-to-shoulder audience a little piece of “the
zone.”

The Sunday night crowd at the Roxy was pervaded by an unintended
lack of hipness. After the longest sound check in history, led by a
roadie resembling all the members of ZZ Top, the audience uttered a
collective squeal of anticipation. The bass heavy beginning of
“Going to Your Funeral” rocked them hard, from the
depths of their internal organs to the tops of their shaggy
heads.

There were the jumpers, the rockers, the swayers, a guy in a
heinous fleece hat and a few silent onlookers. E, garbage-man chic
in his blue coveralls and black beanie, gave no words of
introduction as “Going to Your Funeral” melted into
“Elizabeth on the Bathroom Floor” and then into a
rocking cover of “Get Your Freak On.” Butch looked
disturbingly natural as he uttered the words “holla
holla” with a passion that let audience members know he meant
it.

After a few songs, the boys put down their instruments and E
took the time to chat with the audience. As members of the crowd
shouted whatever inane professions of love jumped out of their
mouths, E held up a hand saying, “Whatever you have to say,
say it and get it all out.” Freed by the power of E, a voice
in the back shouted, “Play “˜Novocaine for the
Soul.'” E, smirking, responded, “And say it all
at once so you drown that guy out.”

Filling the Roxy with sound once again, the Eels played songs
off all of their albums, including the freaky tune
“Souljacker” and the pleading “I Write the
B-Sides” both from their newest CD awaiting American
release.

For a band whose look is purely utilitarian ““ beside a
guitarist’s burgeoning mohawk ““ the Eels managed to
crank out tremendously resonant songs. All the best elements of
rhythm and instrumentation were alive and well tune after tune.
Their live delivery added a healthy dose of rock to their more
produced recorded sound.

E’s proclamation, “Butch, bring out your mistress,
Lady Rock and let’s satisfy her the only way we know
how,” drove the band to dig even deeper into the bowels of
rock. If the lyrics weren’t so depressing, the fervor with
which the songs were played could have riled listeners into an
anger worthy of a punk show. Instead, the audience just did a lot
of hair shaking.

One high point of the evening was Butch’s solo performance
of the heart-breaking ballad, “I am a Sad Clown.”
Dressed in a dapper, black sleeveless shirt and matching black
cotton shorts, and clutching a tasteful, straw cowboy hat, Butch
hit the high notes in “I am a sad clown, my smile is upside
down.”

After two encores, the Eels closed with “Mr. E’s
Beautiful Blues.” And as the last of the stage’s
colored lights fluttered and Butch waved good-bye with his hat, E
shuffled off the stage leaving an audience baptized by the
Eels’ spirit and so stoked by the rockability of the night
that the rain falling outside the Roxy didn’t even feel
cold.