After the first listen of Shootenanny, one gets the impression that the times of Electro-shock blues (1998) are now far distant in the thoughts of Mark Oliver Everett (you can call him E).
The torments, pains, and family misfortunes that characterized the harsh, cutting lyrics and sounds of that album seem absent in this new CD. We had already sensed this while listening to the group's last two works (Daisies Of The Galaxy from 2000 and Souljacker from 2001).
But unlike those, listening to Shootenanny leaves a strange sense of serenity. Knowing Mr. E, I thought of a ruse, and partly it is so. Indeed, by focusing more closely on the music-lyrics combination, the anger and pain of E can be seen emerging in different passages through the evocation of memories and images of Freudian memory.
For example, the opening track of the album "All In A Day's Work," a nice dirty blues in which E's muffled voice seems to be perfectly at ease, is quite a program: When I was born / The doctor said / There's something wrong / Inside that baby head.
Later in the heartbreaking Agony: Friends tellin' me / That maybe I need / Some psychiatric help.
Apart from these moments, however, the album progressively evolves towards more serene and relaxed atmospheres (Fashion Awards, for example) and closes with a ballad that leaves open glimpses of trust towards life (Somebody Loves You).
From a musical perspective, Shootenanny deviates from the group's latest productions, while maintaining a style that mixes pop, rock, and folk. The arrangements are much more essential, dry, and electronics are present to a lesser extent (see the very delicate Love Of The Loveless).
Overall, the CD isn't bad, but compared to other Eels' works, something seems missing, namely that spark of genius, that hint of poetry that can make a record unforgettable, and Shootenanny is not.