Even though they never made their way out of their Cleveland hometown during their 1972-1975 lifetime, they only played five live shows, and their first (and definitive) single didn't hit stores until three years after they broke up, the legacy of
the Electric Eels stubbornly refuses die. Reveling in raw, overdriven guitar noise, pounding drums, and vocals that existed somewhere between a howl and a bitter sneer, one could reasonably describe
the Electric Eels as punk before there was punk, though the band's snotty Midwestern nihilism and shrugged-off contempt were stronger stuff than most acts that followed in the wake of
the Ramones could ever achieve. The first
Electric Eels anthology, Having a Philosophical Investigation with the Electric Eels, appeared in 1989, and 25 years later, Superior Viaduct has taken yet another stab at keeping this band's music in print with a collection simply titled
Die Electric Eels. (The title is meant to be mock German, though it's likely the band was also referring to the expected reaction to their music.) Featuring 13 tracks, this collection, crudely recorded on makeshift equipment in a Cleveland loft in 1974, isn't as complete as several previous
Electric Eels compilations, (most notably 1991's God Says Fuck You or 2001's The Eyeball of Hell), but as an introduction to the band's harsh but compelling sonic outbursts, it flows well as an album and skims most of the high points from the group's surviving sessions; between Dave E.'s cranky vocals, the paint-stripping guitar blast of John Morton and Brian McMahon, and the relentless pound of drummer Nick Knox (pre-
Cramps),
the Electric Eels didn't simply anticipate punk while no one was paying attention, but merged sound and fury with a primitive force few bands have matched before or since. Gloriously strange, and the rare album that's off-putting and anthemic at the same time,
Die Electric Eels is enthusiastically recommended to historically minded punk fans and anyone who treasures the sound of young men who are just plain pissed off. (Superior Viaduct has also reissued the
Eels' rare second single, "Spin Age Blasters" b/w "Bunnies," and if it finds the band in a more experimental mood, it's no less fascinating as it revels in its own eccentricities. ~ Mark Deming