当Trading Snakeoil for Wolftickets在2001年发行，它已有了他个人的清晰印记。Jules沙哑感性的嗓音，是对他慵懒工作的专集最好的褒奖，同时，他的唱片也开始有了广泛的传唱度 　　当他在Donnie Darko soundtrack上发行了令人惊叹迷惑的"Mad World"时， 财富开始向他微笑。 这首歌在欧洲非常流行，并且最终传唱全球使JULES能够在美国发展 。讽刺的是， Trading Snakeoil for Wolftickets在2004年用同多年前曾使他失败的同样风格发行了。 　　他的风格是典型的soft rock(比较轻柔的摇滚乐)，跟Paul Simon一样，擅长发掘人们情感的细枝末节，不激亢不冲动，嗓音很soulful很柔和，有着岁月沉淀的深度和味道。 by Stanton SwihartIf Gary Jules' debut album was a superb collection of songs (a few of them dating back to his late teenage years), Trading Snakeoil for Wolftickets is a stunning, focused follow-up. Reflective and melancholy, dusk-colored and dreamlike, it finds supreme repose through songs of somber experience. Composed in the concentrated two-year span after being unceremoniously dropped from A&M and recorded essentially on his own, the album is a wellspring of songcraft that charts a course through tangled emotions. Jules' voice betrays many things -- hurt, disappointment, and uncertainty, but also, importantly, recognition -- and the songs find a range of moods, from the joyous, late-night-with-loose-change-in-my-pockets ode "DTLA" to the breathtaking resignation of "No Poetry" and "Something Else." On the surface, little seems to have changed about the music. It is still a fragile but lush wish: the cymbals whisper, and acoustic guitars pick out the delicate melodies while waiting for the occasional, flirtatious reply of soft electric runs. But in every way, Jules has grown as an artist. Trading Snakeoil for Wolftickets plays out like a song cycle. It documents Jules' convoluted relationship with Los Angeles, an adopted home that retains an unrelenting hold over the songwriter, and the music is imbued with the city's spirit. You could even say that Hollywood acts as a character of sorts on the album, both a protagonist and antagonist, sometimes standing at the center of songs, sometimes fading into soft focus behind Jules' stories, but always, in some way, casting a shadow. The album moves through vaguely cynical expressions of dejection, toward acceptance, before finally inhabiting a humble, restive place, a personal journey that culminates in "Umbilical Town," on which Jules lingers in the past for a few brief moments before letting go of it all. And in the stark ghostliness of Tears for Fears' "Mad World," hauntingly rearranged as a piano ballad, he comes up with a performance that more than matches the work of Cat Stevens in terms of solemn, profound beauty, isolation, and depth of searching. Trading Snakeoil for Wolftickets takes on a shimmering glow. Gracious and redemptive, it is a rapt, quiescent masterwork.