To say
Mark Oliver Everett is a moody guy is an act of understatement. As the unquestioned leader of
Eels, he doesn't hesitate to tell his listeners all about his neuroses, and some of his most celebrated albums (in particular 1998's
Electro-Shock Blues and 2005's
Blinking Lights and Other Revelations) are rooted in the contemplation of his sorrows and his reaction to life's failings. He's learned to do this in a way that's entertaining and sometimes dazzling, but often it's hard to tell if
Everett is having any fun at all. 2022's
Extreme Witchcraft is a standout in the
Eels catalog in that
Everett actually sounds like he's enjoying himself much of the time; he's still working out his demons, but his musical therapy agrees with him and he reveals an energy and spark that verges on playful. The opening number, "Amateur Hour," is a blast of scrappy rock & roll full of buzzy guitars and rhythms that you can shake to, and while not every song matches its energy, the straight-ahead rock of "Good Night on Earth," the lean R&B groove of "Steam Engine," the minimalist funk of "Grandfather Clock Strikes Twelve," and the folky simplicity of "Learning While I Lose" make this that rare
Eels album you can play at a party without making your guests text their therapists. Even the less upbeat songs find a sliver of positivity deep down inside; the protagonist of "Strawberries and Popcorn" isn't so happy about being alone, but he honestly enjoys the small indulgences of the single life, and "I Know You're Right" is sung from the perspective of a guy who realizes it's a sign of growth to acknowledge you were the one who screwed up. The rough, spirited vibe of the performances also mesh effectively with
Everett's less-dour-than-usual take on the world.
Extreme Witchcraft isn't a big basket of musical sunshine, but it's been a while since
Eels have made an album with this sort of muddled joy, and it's a welcome development from one of pop's major misfits. ~ Mark Deming