You get two, that's right, two albums for the price of one. Stuffed inside the jewel case of the Eels' latest, Souljacker, is the e.p. Rotten World Blues. The two discs couldn't sound any more different if they had been made by separate bands,

Eels songwriter and frontman E (né Mark Oliver Everett) has crafted poignant vignettes of lives going nowhere. The lyrics are an uncommon blend of bitterness and naivete. Musically, half the songs have a Mancini-like lush orchestration. Maracas pop in and out of the songs. The guitars are fat and funkified with a '60s feel. "Woman Driving, Man Sleeping" is a plaint on loneliness, "There's no radio to play / sitting with the map / lying crumpled on her lap..." With a Farfisa organ thrown in for nostalgia, "Friendly Ghost" sounds like The Association on acid.

Souljacker is full of musical references and riffs from the 60s, a sophisticated look back, combined with new millienium angst. Rotten World Blues, the yin to Souljacker's yang, is loud, brutal, and caustic. The combination is like a cactus martini: smooth, tart, and refreshing, with a hidden sharp spike or two to keep you on your toes.