Eels mastermind Mark Oliver Everett, alias E, has not suffered a shortage of critical acclaim over the past dozen years, but his latest work, Blinking Lights and Other Revelations, has propelled him to new heights. It's a double album spanning birth, death and all stations in between, a Geek's Progress from a busted-up childhood to a kind of resigned, bloodstained wisdom.

To play it live, E has surrounded himself with a compact but versatile ensemble comprising a female string quartet and a couple of musicians, Chet Lyster and Big Al Hunter, who spend the evening juggling half a dozen instruments each, from stand-up bass and autoharp to saw and pedal steel.

Three weeks ago they played next door at the Royal Festival Hall, but the smaller QEH (to which they'd been invited back as part of Patti Smith's Meltdown) was a more sympathetic setting for their subtly nuanced chamber rock. E took the stage in a dark suit, carrying a black cane and smoking a cigar, like Groucho Marx masquerading as a Baptist preacher. He set the mood with the hymn-like Dust of Ages, a statement of intent about shrugging off the weight of the world, then took off on a guided tour of the Blinking Lights material. In the Yard, Behind the Church was nostalgic and melancholy, but Son of a Bitch managed to squeeze some black humour from its unpromising subject matter ("Daddy was a drunk, a most unpleasant man"). The band tiptoed discreetly through Blinking Lights, and E sent them away altogether while he performed a serenely simple version of Railroad Man on acoustic guitar. By the time he got to Losing Streak, it was possible to discern a glimmer of optimism.

For the encores, E gave the rest of his catalogue a look in, pairing off Souljacker with Wooden Nickels and finding space for a haunting interpretation of Bob Dylan's Girl of the North Country. The concluding blast of Dog Faced Boy, featuring his old buddy John Parish on electric guitar, was E's reminder that this intimate acoustic phase won't last forever.