Despite some limited success and a few shows supporting big names like Sonic Youth, Eskimo Joe and Nine Inch Nails, The Follow are still one of Australia's best kept secrets. They have recently returned from the United States, playing shows throughout L.A. and New York, recording with producer Nick Launay (Silverchair, Arcade Fire, Nick Cave) and generally spreading Followy goodness across America.

Between houses, between countries, between shows and between recording sessions, Azaria, The Follow's guitarist/vocalist allowed us to quiz him on the bands travels and upcoming album. 

Loud Noise and Pictures: The Folow’s line up has seen a few different faces come and go since the last album, how is the band’s chemistry at the moment?

Azaria: Well the first album was recorded by me alone. I then got my close friends from high school to join the band and make the album come alive. Since then until now, we have put out an EP through Warner and toured with NIN, Sonic Youth and Amanda Palmer [Dresden Dolls], and touring up and down the east coast of Australia for 3 years. Released and toured ‘Smashed Heart’ in the UK and toured America... You’re bound to lose a member or two after all that. However the band is at its strongest at this point in time because we've been lucky to have found people who can sustain the road and maintain the ability to have a creative journey. Its been five year's and I guess KJ (bass and Vocals) and I are the original members still standing.  We're really proud of everything we've been through. Our latest guitarist Jak was our guitar tech who toured with us for a year, and naturally, joined when it was time. And we met our new drummer (Steven) in NYC when we toured there.

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LNaP: What were you expecting to happen when you headed over to America? And did everything live up to expectations?
Azaria: We expected just to play a few shows, maybe get an agent or a manager as we're in between management at the moment - and to record with Nick Launay. The States gave us more then we had expected. We're releasing a new EP from America to everywhere in the world except for Australia/New Zealand (as Warner owns the rights to release us here). We recorded ‘Love Bomb Revolution’ and a new song called ‘Break’. We found many management offers and agent offers after playing a few shows. But the best thing was all the help and love our fans gave us. From accommodation, to lending us a BMW - thank you. There was something for us to do every night in Los Angeles. It was a fun trip.

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LNaP: How receptive were the U.S audiences? How different is the Australian scene to the U.S. scene?
Azaria: The Australian scene has always been welcoming to us. I guess the only difference is that there s more people over there. And you could play every night around California and meet new people and scenes. Where as in Australia, a band like ours could only really play once a month in every major city in Australia. The main reason we found ourselves in L.A. was because of the support that Nick Launay has given us and gave us when we were over there.

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LNaP: Was there a great deal of difference between the New York and L.A. crowds? Which was better to play for?
Azaria: Well we played 6 shows in 5 days. On our last night we played in NYC and we jumped in the cab to go to our next show in Brooklyn. Everyone from the first show came across the bridge with us, even the bar guy. The Brooklyn show was on at 1pm on a Sunday night and the place was packed. We made some loyal fans in NYC. And I got to meet Anton [Newcombe] from The Brian Jonestown Massacre and he gave me his red glasses. It’s nice to see the world through another's perspective.

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LNaP: Did you get to play with any good bands audiences may not be aware of? Did you happen to play with any bands that we may already know?

Azaria: Yes we played one show in N.Y.C. and L.A. with The Veronicas. They are more underground over in the States and it went down well. That was fun and they're such a good band. We played a show with Dizzy's band from Guns ‘n’ Roses too. We played about 15 shows all up over there; we were more concentrating on our recording. But were lucky to pick up the shows we did along the way

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LNaP: How is it coming back to Australia? Does it feel like its good to be home, or do you wanna go back to the circus?
Azaria: We have a lot of people back here that we dearly missed, so it’s been good meeting up with them. We’re just taking things a bit easy here and not playing shows. We're kind of homeless at the moment, Jak's in Newtown borrowing a room, KJ's out of town and I’m in Brisbane visiting my granny. Being scattered around has been fun but we're looking forward to going back to the states in a month to complete our recordings and play more shows.

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LNaP: You’re playing again soon in Brisbane, has The Follow’s live shows changed at all since you last played on Australian soil?
I was just doing an acoustic show. But I think every time we tour we learn something new and refine our show. Plus we have lots of new songs now.

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LNaP: The Follow has been recording again with Nick Launay, how is it different this time around?
Azaria: It’s more focus and from both sides we’re working faster and creating more than before. We have developed a really good relationship with him inside and outside of the studio and recording process. So we have become very comfortable with him. And like a film maker loves to film on film rather then digital, we are the same in that since recording with Nick both times, we've recorded live as a band to tape. It’s all sounding better then ever, because the band’s at its strongest level then it’s ever been.

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LNaP: What can we expect from the new album – and more importantly – when can we expect it to be released?
Azaria:  I’d say it will probably be out in the States before Australia. Early next year we think. But it has a very focused direction, unlike the schizophrenic first album, I guess playing for so long, we've kind of developed our own thing now. We still try new things, but the first album was like every idea into 12 songs. It kind of sounded like a compilation album. But I was young and had a million ideas. And I’m glad I got it out of my system back then.

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LNaP: In the past you’ve performed on stage with Amanda Palmer (from The Dresden Dolls), how did that come about – and who else would you love to perform alongside with?
Azaria: I'm actually playing a solo acoustic show in  Los Angeles with her next month...like Trent [Reznor] from NIN someone had played our music to her and Amanda contacted us through a friend. She's the kind of artist that picks and chooses who she wants to play with. Which is refreshing because mainly agents decide, but we have been lucky, Sonic Youth, NIN and Amanda Palmer have all hand picked us to play with them. And we are very honored of course... we'd love to play with the Yeah Yeah Yeah's, KJ wants Hole to get back together (me too) but it can t be 1995 forever.  Nick Cave is touring America later this year too. But he always gets a more subdued band to support him. But a kid can dream. We're just dreaming and liking reality of a dream...

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LNaP: What are The Follow’s plans for the rest of the year?
Azaria: We're going back to America to finish our album and get it ready to release and we'll be back in Australia for a tour in December.

Plenty of kind thoughts go out to Azaria for his time and effort.
I strongly recommend you all Follow your heART and see the band in action if you are in the Brisbanian or Californian regions - and keep an eye and an ear out for their new album when it drops.

I think I got a Job at Antonio's Pizza Take out making pizzas and whatever else they sell.  I'm supposed to call back on Monday to schedule when I work? Scheduling something.  I hope I start work like the next day, I'm really going nuts and this week is going to be hell.  Anyone wanna talk so I dont go all depresso? =]

I had a ton to say. But I forgot most of it already.  Anyway, So much for posting every day.  I'm newly addicted to the Dresden Dolls.  And I feel like writing a song.  But that'll end up dead ending.  Sigh.

Compuesto por demos, b-sides y temas inéditos entre los que se contienen un demo de su album previo, 4 temas grabados, pero no seleccionados en sus discos previos; un viejo demos 5 temas escritos, pero no grabados y un cover ochentero.

Este compilatorio tiene todas aquellos temas que estos muñecos de Dresden hubiesen deseado sacar, pero que por diversas razones no pudieron.

El track list del disco es el siguiente:

1. "Dear Jenny" – 3:07
2. "Night Reconnaissance" – 3:56
3. "The Mouse and the Model" (demo) – 6:02
4. "Ultima Esperanza" – 4:33
5. "The Gardener" (Yes, Virginia... b-side) – 5:08
6. "Lonesome Organist Rapes Page-Turner" (Yes, Virginia... b-side) – 3:42
7. "Sorry Bunch" – 3:09
8. "Pretty in Pink" (Psychedelic Furs cover) – 3:57
9. "The Kill" (Yes, Virginia... b-side) – 3:49
10. "The Sheep Song" – 3:59
11. "Boston" (Yes, Virginia... b-side) – 7:20

Aquí el video de su primer sencillo "Night Reconnaissance".

Aprovecho y también pongo el de ""Girl Anachronism" de su primer disco homónimo (2005)

y un regalito que ellos mismos pusieron en youtube

Found on the NPR website, here is yet another article that goes a little something like this:

The Dresden Dolls are a band on the verge of making it. Unless, of course, they don't. They've been touring almost full time for years, playing to ever-larger crowds and opening for some big-name bands. They've toured with Nine Inch Nails. But even at that level, it's very tough for a band to make enough money to survive.

Sitting at his drum set before a show, Viglione says that last year, the band went on tour in February and didn't get back until November.

"I couldn't even tell you how many cities we did," he says. "We went to Europe three or four times, hit Japan, Australia, New Zealand twice."

Palmer and Viglione might be budding rock stars, but they're still pretty broke. They have to pay their road crew three to four times what they pay themselves — which is a modest $1,500 a month. Remember, this a band that has toured with Nine Inch Nails. (read more)

Great read. The article illustrates the main issues established bands must deal with when positioned at the fine line between making it or losing it. I thought one could expect a certain form of financial stability when having toured on all continents. Apparently that's not always the case, even for very popular and talented artists.

Following up on our previous post, here are three heavy metal covers done right. Arab Strap (pictured above) do a version of "You Shook Me All Night Long" which should erase any memory of Celine Dion's butchery. And as promised, here's Emm Gryner's quiet, piano-based version of Ozzy Osbourne's "Crazy Train."  Finally, the Dresden Dolls dusted off Black Sabbath's 1970 anti-Vietnam-War anthem,  "War Pigs," for their live shows:

Politicians hide themselves away
They only started the war
Why should they go out to fight?
They leave that role to the poor

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

MP3: Arab Strap - You Shook Me All Night Long (more Arab Strap)

MP3: Emm Gryner - Crazy Train (more Emm Gryner)

MP3: The Dresden Dolls - War Pigs (live) (more Dresden Dolls)

For all the cabaret, glam, and goth window dressing, this is an album through and through about good ol' revenge, about having a great time exclusively to spite those who've wronged you. As Amanda sings on "Good Day" 'I'd like to do more than survive, I'd like to rub it in your face.' Piano and drums and a hell of a lot of attitude, with gender politics and power games. It is music where you feel all the manic exertion that went into the songs, particularly in "Girl Anachronism" vocals going headlong past when the music stops, then colliding back together with great force. The songs have a vicious sexuality, although they are rarely strictly about sex, rather about the complications surrounding it, or sex as an outlet of self-destruction. "Half Jack" is about ambiguous sexuality and "Coin-Operated Boy" praises sex toys in favour of fragile or untrustworthy partners ('All the other real ones that I destroy can't hold a candle') in herky-jerky clockwork rhythm. "Bad Habit" is both desperate and unrepentant toward self-mutilation, with the brightest, most inspirational-sounding arrangement of the album. Yet, for all their dark subject matter and ferocity, there is still a lot of tongue-in-cheek (or somewhere) humour, even whimsy like "The Jeep Song" as Amanda sings about being driven crazy by seeing people with the same vehicle as her ex, a black '96 Jeep Cherokee, noting 'I guess it's just my stupid luck that all of Boston drives the same black fucking truck.' They are a great and unique talent, even if they do occasionally get somewhat over-involved.

85% => ****

I don't know what it is, but I can't really get into most music performed by female vocalists. I'm sure it's a deep-rooted psychological condition that means I'm sexist and don't even know it.

But then again, there are exceptions to this rule. Three of those exceptions could be lumped into the plain-old-catchy category: Shiny Toy Guns, Dresden Dolls and M.I.A.

Due to copyright laws (what a crock) I have no easy way of linking you to their music. So I'll just give you each band's/artist's best song, and you'll have to find them for yourself. (These aren't exactly obscure; I'm sure you've heard them before.)

1. M.I.A. - Paper Planes - All these songs are catchy; this one is impossibly catchy. One of the few songs I've ever bought off iTunes. (Most of the others came via the Sweeney Todd soundtrack; you should know that before taking my musical advice.)Primo line: "We park and deliver like UPS trucks."
2. Dresden Dolls - Coin Operated Boy - Sure, everyone has a song about their favorite sex toy, but this has to be the best of the lot. This song has a dated, carnivalesque feel and is impossible not to sing along with — which can be awkward...Primo line: "Coin operated boy sitting on the shelf. He is just a toy, but I turn him on and he comes to life. Automatic joy."
3. Shiny Toy Guns - Don't Cry Out - I don't dance, and I'm not into electronica, so I can't really tell you why I like this song. Maybe because it has a countdown.Primo line: N/A

• I Want You Tonight
• Clutter reduction
• IKEA
• Organization
• Witches Rite
• Sunday Morning
• New Car Shopping
• Nun Cunt
• The Kill

Please visit my photo art site, deviousARTIST.com as well as my amazon.com wishlist.

Call the listener line @ 206-333-1001 and send emails to visitronix at gmail dot com.

here is the myspace page

and here is their brechtian punk cabaret which i really like

Guest blogger Scott says:

This comes from a CD of 80s movie theme covers by various artists. Some of the other tracks are nice, but this is the only one that I really feel sounds like the artist tried to make it their own. And I had seriously never listened to the words of the verses before this. The original emphasizes the chorus, and its association with the Molly Ringwald oeuvre caused me to assume that it was just a “Hey, look at that girl” standard. Amanda really makes the verses tell their somber story much more effectively.

MP3: The Dresden Dolls - Pretty in Pink [Psychedelic Furs cover]

More Dresden Dolls: website myspace amazon

Previously: Coverage: Emm Gryner, "For What Reason"; Coverage: Vampire Weekend, “Exit Music (for a Film)“; Coverage: I Hate Kate, “Major Tom”

The new J-Horror with brains…and HAIR! Chiaki Kuriyama (KILL BILL, BATTLE ROYALE) stars as Yuko, a budding hair stylist who is unaware that the hair extensions she uses on her clients are actually cursed… and are out for revenge. A satirical horror that delivers both in scares and laughs, this film marks director Sion Sono as one to watch. See it before the inevitable US remake!

For our hairy pre-screening party from 9.30pm, we encourage radical hairstyles, cool wigs and, if you dare…extensions.

MUSIC CONFIRMED: We are delighted to have Amanda Palmer from THE DRESDEN DOLLS DJ’ing before the screening. www.myspace.com/whokilledamandapalmer

With thanks to Revolver Entertainment and Melissa at Roadrunner Records.

The Horrorpops

How can you not love this band? Psychobilly silliness, gorgeous singer and goth girl go-go dancers!

The Mighty Mighty Bosstones

Old school video from the old days of the Boston punk scene...ah, memories.

Dropkick Murphys

The dvd that this video comes from has yours truly toasting the camera during one of the songs, albeit from a distance....

 The Dresden Dolls

Been following these two for ages and absolutely love the quirkiness and the whole punk cabaret aesthetic.

SIRSY

Gotta give a shout out to my good friends from Albany. Not the best sound on this video but you may notice a dashing young man in black snapping photos from the crowd.....

Elizabeth and the Catapult

This video has nothing to do with the band. Funny juxtaposition with World Of Warcraft and this song...love it.  Yup, I'm a geek. First heard this band on NPR and been loving them ever since.

The White Stripes

I love the Stripes and damn this album is so loud and almost perfect from beginning to end!

The Raconteurs

More silliness from Mr White and his co-conspirators. This album is another testimony to his diversity and guitar skills.

Suicide City

Yup, I had to add a little screamo-silliness! Love the bass player and they put on a hell of a show!

Soul Coughing

Love this song and I can't get it out of my head!!!

LOURDS

And finally, my friends from New York City. Not the best sound on this video but you can hear the violin and guitar clearly as well as Miss Lourds voice and again, you may notice a certain photographer in the audience.....

New Dresden Dolls album is out, gotta save my lunch money up to get it. However I have two job interviews tomorrow which means ill have real money soon!!!

Cant wait!

Oh and kotor2 is starting to make me a little angry, this time its not the lack of medipacs but the fact that i have to go all out in every battle involving more than 2 baddies. I might have the difficulty setting on high or something.

Truth is, I really wanted to replace all of you, but with my meager winnings all I can really afford to replace is Michael and maybe like half a fnickt.

Oh well.

Anyway…

In-N-Out Burger will put Viagra out of business….

No lie.

Last Friday I rented some Harleys and took one of my employees to the Hoover Dam. 

When I think motorcycles, one movie comes to mind.

The definitive most awesome motorcycle movie ever.

Girl on a Motorcycle.*

But I digress…..

We picked up our bikes from Dream car Rentals and immediately hightailed it over to In-n-Out Burger all wheelie style like Vanilla Ice in  Cool as Ice!

We found a table for to enjoy our Double-Doubles.

    1^st smile of the new year!  Every time I smile, a baby emu dies.

It's not only disrespectful but it is physically impossible to eat a Double-Double while standing.

A) You get weak in the knees.

B) Your erection can pose a hazard…ever see one of those 3 Stooges episodes where Curly is carrying a ladder?

The manager even came by and thanked me for the extra umbrella hole that I bored through the table.

"Cain't nevah have too many umba-rella holes?" I joked.

And then we all laughed so hard that the sky made a twinkly rainbow that pissed Starburst Fruit Chews down upon us and whistled Disney songs.

After sex cigarette. You were amazing Double-Double…..can I  call  you Dee-Dee?  Ok…sorry.

To the open road!

My experienced riding partner…(we'll call him C2 for the purpose of this blog) wasted no time hopping on the wrong highway ramp and driving off all idiot style.

His bike had saddle bags…mine didn't.

It also had my cell phone.

He's gone.

Not good.

Luckily, at the In-N-Out we had painstakingly gone over the directions.

This was to ensure a safe trip as well as to distract each other and the crowd from our massive boners.

 A veteran even tried to hang a flag from mine.

One of those big ones too…not the cheesy hardware store kind….

But now C2 is gone.

So I pulled over and waited……nothing….

Did I mention that C2 possesses the navigation skills of a retarded Amelia Earhart after eating a turkey dinner and a handful of percasets?

Oddly enough, they also share the same wonderful cheek bones.

              Toss me the keys....I'll drive Sweetheart…..tch tch, wink.

Now I'm fucking worried, but I head to the Dam figuring that's what he would do….gotta stick to the plan….Old man Potter didn't panic and neither will Stevie-boy.

Thinking worst case scenario, I begin to go over in my head the consolatory phone calls I'm gonna have to make to C2's family and girlfriend as well as how to discreetly pry my Blackberry from the wreckage.

30 minutes later and I'm at the Hoover Dam.

Unimpressed is a big word.

So is pusillanimous, but it doesn't apply so fuck you.

To describe the Hoover Dam in a smaller word……Beh.

It's like what I imagine sex would be like with Lindsay

Lohan…I expected more and the bathrooms were dirty.

                                 This is the entire Hoover dam.

After 10 minutes of stress induced stress, C2 came rolling into view and we hugged like only uncomfortable heterosexual males know how to.

Mind you, I still had the smoldering remnants of my In-N-Out boner so I wanted to be careful not to send C2 the wrong signal or poke out a kidney or something.

I told him how awful it would have been having to call his loved ones to explain that all of my contacts were in that Blackberry and how I could really use it back etc…

He understood entirely… and off we rode back to Vegas under a twinkly rainbow that pissed Starburst Fruit Chews down upon us and whistled Disney songs.

*Scale of movie awesomeness

5 Stars ……Female nudity, partial nudity, implied nudity, car chases, carnage, the guy from the Police Academy movies that makes the noises.

Everything else……Technically not a movie.

Eventually the second opening band, Smoosh (which has been touring with the Dresden Dolls for their entire tour) came on to much fanfare. They played a quick set including the crowd favorite "She Was Right" and a cover of Eel's "Flyswatter". They were an intense trio- keyboards/singing (Aysa, 16), drums (Chloe, 14), and bass (Maia, 11)- very professional and put-together. They reminded me a lot of Eisley (relative-comprised band) only... punkier. They were pretty awesome, and I'm planning on purchasing their albums.

After Smoosh finished up, there was a seemingly interminable wait in which the tension slowly mounted. I took the opportunity to look around at my fellow attendees. There were lots of impersonators; lots of hair dyed Amanda-Palmer-auburn, lots of black bowlers, lots of mime-type bright-red lips, lots of attempts at "Brechtian punk cabaret" that mostly ended up looking like Hot Topic made a killing on that show. I found a renewed hatred for clip-on bracers/suspenders. Flock behavior has usually confounded me, and this time was no different, though it was made especially poignant by the individuality of the mimicked.

They entered after the sun had set; they kept the stage dark and played the abbreviated version of John William's "Imperial March" and strode on in black trenchcoats, black half-masks, and black Gestapo-like hats. They hailed/seig-heiled, sat down, and launched into a revisioning of Pink Floyd's "In the Flesh" that roused the crowd up quite nicely. Then came "Girl Anachronism", during which the entire ampitheatre joined in to sing/chant along. Then came a new song from their new album No, Virginia..., "Night Reconnaissance", which I enjoyed greatly. Then came one of my favorites, "Mrs. O", which took on a certain sentimentality seeing it live- it's the source of the title for Yes, Virginia... and is philosophically more weighty than some of their other songs (though most display some intellectuality, even if only in their word choice and composition). This was followed by the song "Ultima Esperanza", which Amanda Palmer introduced as being about "a strange guy [she] met in Germany who fell in love with a girl from Texas... on the internet!". [As a side note, it was quite difficult for me not to code-switch into shoddy Spanish in that sentence.] I really enjoyed "Ultima Esperanza" for many of the same reasons that I enjoy a lot of their music [good rhythm and melody, clever lyrical imagery], but Palmer also showcased a pretty amazing control of her voice in this song, and that was spectacular. Unfortunately, at this point, the couple next to me, which had been perpetually spooning in the standing position since they'd arrived [so impractical, with the humid heat and such- I'd swelter to death], started swaying rather heavily and knocking into me a bunch. I tried clearing my throat [good luck hearing me], tapping them and asking them to stop, and scooting over the little that I could, but nothing help. Then came the duo's arguably most-famous song, "Coin Operated Boy", which was spiced up by two men in penis suits jumping up on stage, hugging Amanda Palmer, and subsequently getting tackled [and humped, possibly?] by Brian Viglione. Palmer also took some performance liberties, including extra repetitions of the line "I'll never be alone go" complete with broken-record sound and broken-boy movements. Then came another new song, "The Kill" which starts off with words from the Sex Pistols but quickly turns into something entirely Dresden Dolls in that it is quite cryptic, yet still clearly political in nature. Then came The Gardener, which I'm still thinking about, especially in terms of masculinity and social identity construction. Even though the lyrics are the most depressing I heard during the concert, Palmer sang it so well that this will probably be one of my favorites soon. During this song, she came down into the crowd, went up into a sort of balcony, and dropped flowers everywhere. It was a very intense time for the crowd, as everyone simultaneously parted for her passing and pressed forward to see her. After she finished down with the audience, she went back up on-stage to sing "Astronaut" from her soon-to-be-released solo album that she worked on with Ben Folds. Things started to lighten here, as they brought out Maia from Smoosh to join them for a cover of Beastie Boys "Fight For Your Right [to Party]", which I still could not bring myself to like, even with the Dresden Dolls performing it. Bummer. And then, as though to counteract her earlier moment of plugging herself, Palmer sang the Dresden Dolls song "Sorry Bunch" and dedicated it to Brian, which was quite touchy in a predictable, friends-'til-the-end sort of way. Then came another crowd-pleaser in the form of "Mandy Goes to Med School", which they definitely played up; there were lots of pauses to show each other off, especially towards the end with "and if you show up and I am unavailable / my partner Brian would love to take care of you / he is a nice man / thoroughly reliable / he's in a rock band / and he goes to med school". There was lots of audience participation/singing/yelling/banshee-screeching for this one. Finally, they pulled out the entirety of Smoosh to join them for the last song, a cover of Radiohead's "Karma Police"; Brian Viglione moved to the guitar so that Chloe could take the drums, and Aysa played on a little xylophone/glockenspiel sort of thing. The audience sang along, especially with the chorus. Everybody left the stage, and we cheered for an encore for what seemed like ages; Becca timed it, and it was actually two minutes. Amanda and Brian came back on [Amanda sans shirt and with her post-show beer in hand] to perform "Goodbye, Mein Herr" from Cabaret and "Half Jack" with an extremely long introduction [or at least, it seemed extremely long]. I really liked that the show ended on that song, mostly for the genderqueer ramifications of said song, but also because the song is dedicated to Palmer's father, which was kind of cool.

Like I said before, I'm still enamored with them. I cannot wait to get a bit of disposable income so that I can go get their new album, No, Virginia..., though it does seem that it might be a while. It looks like I might need to grab a few things for the drag piece that my softball team is doing for the league drag show. [Yes, I know, I'm excited too! More information on that as it approaches, though.]

Kings N Things: I helped with their sixth birthday show, no matter how infinitesimally little help I actually provided. Most of my "help" consisted of untangling, attempting to repair, getting shocked (repeatedly) by, and stringing up strands of Christmas lights. Being around the troupe for that long eliminated a lot of the hero-worship and anxiety I felt around them; these are normal people, stumbling through putting on a production much like Theatre for Social Justice does on-campus, only somehow even less organized. (This is probably related to the fact that they don't have nearly as much time as we do to put these things together. As much as college students complain about over-scheduling and such, we have the opportunity to have a really fantastic schedule, if we'll only make it so.)

Allyson S.: We were buddies for a while. We went to the same dojo. I knew what her religious and political views were, but still tried to befriend her, in the hopes of personalizing the issues that she's been raised to demonize. Eventually I found her on Facebook, friended her, and asked her if she'd like to go for coffee sometime to catch up and whatnot. She responded that she'd like to do that, and then I never heard from her again. I'm assuming that she actually looked at my profile (which explains that -gasp- I'm in a relationship with someone of the same "biological gender"/sex) and freaked out, because not only did I never hear from her again, but she "de-friended" me and did some sort of blocking maneuver so that I can't contact her at all through Facebook. I guess that she never figured me out for a queer over the couple of years of training together, and I also guess that she hasn't changed her views. It's a real bummer, too, because she's got potential.

Dresden Dolls: Alright, so, I'm still enamored with them and neither myself nor my image of them has been violently jerked back to the ground. I saw them at Stubb's, and I have all sorts of things to say about the show and the attendees and everything, but that's a whole 'nother post of its own (which you will receive eventually, I promise). I just wanted to say that the Dresden Dolls (esp. Amanda Palmer) amaze me in so many ways, and it seems that the more I look into them, the more I am amazed. The amazement probably spawns from the fact that they appear so normal, so down-to-Earth. I keep trying to look for something to point to the idea that they're ungrateful, aloof, unapproachable, unreasonable, or any other negative quality I can think of. The only complaints that I've read have been from people accusing them of being un-original, faggots, promiscuous, exhibitionists, or what have you. I can see where the un-original compalints come in, but there's nobody quite like the Dresden Dolls (or really anywhere near them, but I'll appease the complainers for a moment), and even if there are some strong links between them and other bands, I'd like to point out that not only could the complainers not do any better, but also that there is a limited amount of ground to cover in any field, and eventually everybody's just rehashing what everybody else has already said. At least the Dresden Dolls throw in some good (relatively) new subjects ("Bad Habit", "Half Jack", "Sex Changes") with the (cleverly) rehashed subjects ("The Jeep Song", "Good Day", "Me and the Mini-Bar"). The other complaints are (incidentally) un-original, and aren't really the business of the compaliners.

MP3: The Dresden Dolls - Mrs. O (more Dresden Dolls)

MP3: The New Pornographers - Miss Teen Wordpower (more New Pornographers)

MP3: Ox - Miss Idaho (more Ox)

Previously: Threesome: mister mister

Catherine Anne Davies
Songs For The Boy Who Wouldn't Read Rilke EP •••
Self-released

If an artist's output can truly be taken as an expression of their psychological landscape, the furnishings inside Ms Davies's head may be lush and velvet but they are certainly deep crimson and black. Songs For The Boy Who Wouldn't Read Rilke is the second of a pair of limited edition EPs from the London-based singer who recently signed to the humorously named Folkwit stable. Hers is a dark muse, embroiled in swirling currents of brooding mystery. Like its predecessor Long Day, much of the music found on ...Rilke is reminiscent of the more sombre and sepulchral elements of goth-folkies All About Eve. On a soft cushion of acoustic guitars blended with echo-drenched piano and heady flourishes of cello, Davies's mournful vocals intone the agonies of the less illuminated reaches of the human soul, the pain of a blues singer's Weltschmerz filtered through the spyglass of a gothic spirit; these are deeply affecting tone poems.

‘The Heart Is A Lonesome Hunter' drips with loss and regret, with Davies's sparse piano joining plaintive cello and acoustic guitar as the intensity racks up before the song inches toward its slow and exquisite petit mort. ‘Bury Me' explores love both unattained and unattainable, the richness of Davies's vocal perfectly conveying the song's emotion, sweeping up to a pure but fleeting ecstasy on the higher ranges. At first, ‘Crave' appears to set the sepulchral tone aside with its gentle chiming introduction, but the dissonant vocal lines soon drag us back to the realisation that perhaps all is not quite right with the world. The track also allows Davies to flex her multi-instrumentalist muscles as she drifts subtle flute lines over the refrain as if to mock the intensity below. Closing number ‘It'll Get Said' begins with a slow, twisted variation on what could possibly be the James Bond theme, but the mood is ripped apart by squalling, distorted electric guitar. At certain points, Davies sounds uncannily like All About Eve's Julianne Regan, while the guitar sounds recall those of the band's Tim Bricheno.

Both the Long Day and ...Rilke EPs come dressed in sumptuous, handmade paper jackets fastened with dusky wine-coloured ribbon - the product of the auteur's own porcelain-fair hand. This deeply romantic yet somehow archaic dressing is completely appropriate for the music that lies within its embrace. And while the songs work well within the EP format, if their appeal is to last the distance of a full-length album, more dynamics and light/shade interplay is needed. As it is, this short-form offering provides a deeply lush landscape in which the listener can totally immerse themselves. Those who have a nervous disposition need not enquire within, but for listeners whose hearts are made of darker, sterner stuff, there is much here to admire.

Trevor Raggatt
originally published March 25th, 2006 

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Kimya Dawson
Remember That I Love You •••½ 
K Records

Sometimes she's your best friend cooing softly into your ear; sometimes she's a street loon babbling on while you nervously back away; both stand-up comedienne and tragic heroine, on-hiatus Moldy Peach Kimya Dawson comes at you uncensored and unapologetic. Certainly, she doesn't flinch at penning lyrics that other artists might shy away from for being too extreme, too brazenly political and - particularly here on her fifth solo record in four years - a little too close to home.

‘My Mom' is a deeply personal and affecting song that sounds like a diary transcript - you almost feel guilty for listening, earwigging on her private thoughts. There is something entirely childlike about Dawson's description of her mother's illness that conveys how difficult it is to deal with the sickness and impending death of a parent, regardless of our age. Such events bring out the bewildered child within everyone, and it's this child that sings "And there's something in her blood / and there's something in her leg / and there's something in her brain / my mom's sick, she's in a hospital bed". This topic recurs elsewhere on the record; on ‘Caving In', Dawson attempts to imagine the death of her mother and the subsequent dissolution of her family in an attempt to cope better when the event arrives.

Dawson's interest in personal tragedy is not a self-involved one, however; on ‘12.26' the view expands and Kimya places herself in the shoes, or the bare feet, of a tsunami survivor who has lost literally everything. The song is a heartfelt elegy that analyses the world-wide response to the 2004 Boxing Day disaster and damns American complacency and selfishness: "We'd have 12.26 tattooed across our foreheads / If something this atrocious happened on our coast instead." Remember That I Love You may be a rough, ramshackle and underproduced record, but somehow any other production style would seem entirely wrong. The lo-fi homemade quality is intrinsic to the Kimya Dawson ethos; on ‘Loose Lips', when a whole host of voices join Kimya for the chorus, it matters less that some of them are out of time than that they sound like a gang of friends having a good time. Technical virtuosity is not the point; besides, the lyrics take centre stage to their musical base - consistently her trusty acoustic guitar.

Occasionally, the album makes for frustrating listening. When ‘I Like Giants' turns into a paean to a friend of Kimya's called Geneviève, if you don't know who that is (and I don't) it can feel like you're on the outside of a private joke, or listening in on banter that goes over your head. But on the whole this is a very charming album, and this is the only place on the record where witty irreverent humour becomes irksome silliness. For better or worse, Kimya Dawson is unafraid to pour her heart onto the page and for that she should be saluted. Remember That I Love You veers from political idealism (when Kimya rails against George Bush on ‘Loose Lips') to surreal humour and truly affecting personal revelations, often in the course of one song, but its voice is always honest and brave. This is an empathetic, comforting record whose aims are summed up in the lyrics of ‘Competition': "Different voices, different tones / All saying that we're not alone."

Danny Weddup
originally published June 5th, 2006 

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Deerhoof
The Runners Four ••••
ATP

More than almost any other band you care to mention, Deerhoof take an obvious, unfettered joy in what they do. In a career spanning over a decade, the band have applied a particle condenser to pop and noise forms, creating albums populated by dense song-nuggets that turn so many corners, throw so many shapes and spit out so many ideas that one wonders what some of their peers do all day. Take ‘Running Thoughts' from this latest opus; after a jangly cycle down a ‘60s country lane, the wheels abruptly come off and the tune dissolves into humming keyboard drones overlaid with spooky, fried guitarwork. That this is Deerhoof's most focused and cohesive, even straightforward, effort thus far gives an idea of the fractured sensibilities on offer.

It's undoubtedly true that a more stable line-up in recent years has tamed the wilder fringes of the group's approach; formed in 1994 by the only constant member, drummer Greg Saunier, Deerhoof's revolving line-up has settled around Saunier, bassist/vocalist Satomi Matsuzaki and guitarists John Dietrich and Chris Cohen. With this new constancy have come albums such as 2004's Milk Man - a concept album about an evil milkman who kidnaps children and hides them in the clouds - that have eased up on their wilder tendencies in favour of heavily skewed guitar pop laced with a sugary sweetness and gnarly crunch. Both have always been important facets of their sound, but with less of a ten-cats-and-a-firework-in-a-sack approach, the music of Deerhoof has become more assured and less unpredictably dizzying.

The Runners Four continues this trajectory, and there's an immediate inkling that Deerhoof are consciously developing. There are 20 songs and 57 minutes here, nearly twice the white-dwarf density of any of their previous efforts. But the way the guitars circle and shimmer around Satomi's candy-cloud vocal on the beatless opener, ‘Chatterboxes', serve to allay fears of any newfound flabbiness. By the time the lumbering groove and sunny ‘60s pop sheen of the ensuing ‘Twin Killers' and aforementioned ‘Running Thoughts' have gone by, it's becoming obvious that whatever their new modus operandum may be, the band are more than comfortable with it.

Funnily enough, given their burgeoning fascination with the flowerier reaches of 1960s music and Satomi's airy vocal style, it's only when singing duties are shared by the, er, stags that the sweetness of their sound starts to grate. ‘You Can See' and ‘Odyssey' are the worst offenders, the latter saved somewhat by slyly needling harmonics. Elsewhere though, along with a couple of trademark sugar-rush songlets, are some of Deerhoof's finest moments. ‘Siriustar' is the trad indie quiet/loud dynamic rewritten by Willy Wonka, surging from not a lot to technicolour fuzzout with a cute smile and a chocolate kiss. ‘You're Our Two' raids the sharps cabinet once more to set Satomi's paranoiac vocal against multiple stinging guitar lines, and the closing ‘RRRRRRight' is a chipper, garagey adieu.

Describing Deerhoof is a bit like nailing jelly anyway, which is one of the things that makes them so unique. All you need to know is that you should go and buy this album and listen to it lots, because it's really good. Couldn't be simpler.

Adam Smith
originally published December 19th, 2005 

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Dévics
Push The Heart ••••
Bella Union

In the five years since signing to Brit indie label Bella Union, Sara Lov and Dustin O'Halloran have produced two highly-rated albums - 2001's My Beautiful Sinking Ship and 2003's heavenly The Stars At Saint Andrea - both of which marked a clear shift away from their earlier, more post-rock oriented self-released efforts. Calmly melding a variety of influences, the Dévics were showered with plaudits from critics and fellow musicians alike, partly because of their refusal to easily conform to any particular rulebook. Their commitment to maintain this very special brand of elusiveness led the twosome (without their formerly full-time members Ed Maxwell and Evan Schnabel) to relocate to a farmhouse hidden deep in rural Italy where they moved into their current lush and wistful sound space, a dreamy and atmospheric terrain with folk-rock influences and frequent overtones of cabaret melancholy.

Third album Push The Heart is, emotionally at least, a more straightforward affair than The Stars At Saint Andrea. The songs are simpler and more direct, with less emphasis on the smoky, late-night bar ethos that drew sideways comparisons with Portishead, or perhaps Beth Orton via Goldfrapp, and more on an overall sense of bittersweet reflection. What the Dévics do share with the likes of Portishead and Goldfrapp is a fine sense of structure and technology-led production in spades. In fact, the production (which by all accounts was a slightly disjointed affair) almost threatens the album's credibility, but is too carefully stewarded by O'Halloran to really overwhelm; when the melodies are this sweet and Lov's tender voice even sweeter still, it's impossible to avoid getting pleasantly lost in some of the loveliest moments, particularly on the album's central triptych of ‘Song For A Sleeping Girl', ‘Distant Radio' and ‘Just One Breath' (all of which first appeared on last year's exquisite Distant Radio EP).

Lyrically, the album is accessible and engaging, playful yet plaintive. Lov's doeeyed yearnings on album opener ‘Lie To Me' and the charming ‘Secret Message To You', which concerns the futile construction of a boat from too few parts to bring her love back, are inspired and give the songs a depth far beyond her pretty voice. And it would certainly be remiss of me not to point out that it is a very pretty voice indeed, whether she's singing softly into a mic with her eyes to the floor, or opening up and expanding to cover whatever sonic bed O'Halloran constructs for her. More a request than a gripe, but it would be nice to hear a few more tracks along the lines of the latter in future. O'Halloran's balanced, reassuring voice adds a warm and comforting counterpoint on just two of the tracks - the aforementioned ‘Song For A Sleeping Girl' and the also excellent ‘If We Cannot See', which comes closer to lighters-aloft anthem territory than anything they've done in the past.

The Dévics are unlikely to fill our stadiums just yet though, and in truth I doubt they would want to. But Push The Heart can only help their cause and win them new fans looking for something fresh and convincing to see in the spring. More power to them.

Pete Morrow
originally published March 21st, 2006 

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Tina Dico
In The Red •••
Finest Gramophone

You can't deny the popularity of Tina Dico in her homeland of Denmark. When the domestic version of In The Red hit the streets last July, it slotted in at the top of the charts, outselling the likes of Coldplay and U2. Dico (or Dickow if you're Danish) herself was up for consideration in three categories at the 2006 Danish Music Awards; but is 'big in Copenhagen' like 'big in Japan' or can she cut it in the crowded international pop market? Though she's better known in the UK as a vocalist for chillout maestros Zero 7, she no doubt hopes that In The Red will bring her recognition in her own right. Certainly, the overall impression of the album is of a perfectly respectable piece of Scando-pop, with darker, more brooding overtones than the likes of Norway's Lene Marlin or Sweden's Sophie Zelmani. But the sticking point here is a noticeable lack of spark to elevate the songs above the realms of the mundane.

Credit where it's due though - the production is excellent. Chris Potter, who's better known for his work on The Verve's Urban Hymns, clearly knows his way around a mixing desk and, comparing the UK release with the Danish original, it seems that some additional remixing has been done over the autumn to prepare for its wider release. The songs are skilfully layered with lush samples, strings and orchestral instrumentation, all adding up to a luxuriant aural vista. Dico's voice is strong and carries the melodies well, sometimes cracking attractively on the quieter, more emotional sections. Again, nothing to fault here, and when aligned with better material it makes for an effective mix. There's no doubt that there is a good deal of talent here, although Dico's Gen-X couldn't-care-less delivery occasionally grates, particularly on the otherwise enjoyable ‘Nobody's Man'. Likewise, the title track slips beneath the surface from languorous to simply dragging its heels and 'Use Me' seems just a little too ponderous.

Perhaps the most disappointing thing is that there are some excellent songs scattered among the album's more average fare. Had all the tracks been of the same standard, In The Red would be a significantly more involving album. ‘Losing' sets the disc off to an encouraging start with its big Beatles-esque choruses evoking Tears For Fears in ‘Sowing The Seeds Of Love' mode (in a good way!). ‘Give In' rolls along smoothly like a chilled out drivetime classic, while first single ‘Warm Sand' is the clear standout with its moody, building verses and hummable yet majestic refrain and ‘Room With A View' sets a gentle acoustic mood, enfolding the listener in a melancholy reverie. In the end though, this is a candidate for selective downloading. At least that way you'll be left in the black rather than overdrawn.

Trevor Raggatt
originally published February 12th, 2006 

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Ani DiFranco
Knuckle Down ••••
Righteous Babe

Though never one to pass the responsibility buck, it is gratifying at least to see Ani DiFranco set aside some of the duties on this, her 15th studio album since her self-titled debut in 1990. Having enlisted the estimable wiles of co-producer Joe Henry on this follow-up to last year’s self-everything’d (including, perhaps, self-indulgent) Educated Guess, Knuckle Down sees Ani return in part to the more rewarding musical territories mapped out on each album up to 2001’s sprawling Revelling/Reckoning.

Inevitably, there will be those who bemoan the relative absence of DiFranco’s almost legendary leftism here; the only overtly political song, ‘Paradigm’, still resonates with an inward-looking personal relevance that stitches the emotional seams of the album and mines them to stark lyrical effect. But to complain about this seems a little hard-bitten in light of DiFranco’s recent personal upheavals. Both the dissolution of her marriage and the death of her father, Dante Americo DiFranco, to whom the album is dedicated, figure highly in these respectively bilious and brow-beaten compositions. The Bush Administration need not count their capitalist chickens just yet, however, as DiFranco has already signalled her intent to release a second album at the tail end of the year in which they may not come off so lightly.

As it is, Knuckle Down is yet another credit to DiFranco’s famed survivalist mentality. The title track grittily eschews the faintly ridiculous self-help stranglehold that grips America like a pill, instead asserting the mantra “I think I’m done gunnin’ to get closer to some imagined bliss, I gotta knuckle down and just be ok with this.” Happily, the following two tracks, ‘Studying Stones’ and ‘Manhole’ are easily among her best – the latter also featuring some charming whistling from recent Righteous Babe signing, Andrew Bird, who also contributes violin and glockenspiel elsewhere. It’s no surprise then that the more liberated radio programmers stateside have embraced these songs, giving DiFranco perhaps her best commercial chance since Little Plastic Castle. Other album highlights include the Out Of Range-y ‘Modulation’, the bluesy clunk of ‘Seeing Eye Dog’ (a memorable chorus also helps its cause), the taut slam poetics of ‘Parameters’ and the lyrical vulnerability of the closing track, ‘Recoil’.

After the chugging claustrophobia of Educated Guess and the often unlovable jazz forays of Evolve, DiFranco seems comfortable (and perhaps even comforted) to be back on familiar ground, if not entirely back to her roots. The promise of less digging for greater reward should entice both new prospectors and the DiFranco converted alike.

Alan Pedder
originally published May 13th, 2005 

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Ani DiFranco
Reprieve ••••
Righteous Babe

The Chemical Brothers once said of Beth Orton that if your soul could sing, she is what it would sound like. By this reckoning, Ani DiFranco is like the voice in the back of your head, not always telling you things you want to hear but telling it like it is nonetheless, and this time perhaps more than ever she means business. "I ain't in the best shape / that I've ever been in / but I know where I'm going / and it ain't where I've been," she sings on ‘Subconscious'. As always with DiFranco, it's a believable manifesto, one that takes on extra resonance with the recent announcement of her first pregnancy. Sonically, however, we're in familiar surroundings.

Reprieve's closest cousin is 2004's self-played, self-produced Educated Guess, but whereas that record had a swagger that reflected DiFranco's freedom in the studio, Reprieve is altogether a more considered affair. The ghost of Hurricane Katrina hangs over proceedings, having famously halted the recording sessions when the resulting floods damaged her New Orleans studio. Forced to decamp to her other home in Buffalo, New York, DiFranco found herself continuing the recording on an old synthesiser.

The resulting album resonates as an unwitting tribute to the dislocation felt by the millions affected by the tragedy. Though it's not explicitly referenced, aside from the oddly prophetic ‘Millennium Theater' which ends on the line "New Orleans bides her time" (the material was written long before the hurricane hit), lines like "the stars are going out / and the stripes are getting bent" ('Decree') seem to say it all. Elsewhere, much of the album is classic DiFranco. Opening track, ‘Hypnotize', recalls one of the most arresting moments of her career, ‘You Had Time', a song that emerges out of nowhere, a meandering piano intro that eventually finds its way into a melody. A similar technique is used here, the sound of the artist working out a way to articulate an emotion she's not entirely comfortable with: "you were no picnic / and you were no prize / but you had just enough pathos / to keep me hypnotized". It makes for a sombre opening but, to quote Joni Mitchell, there's comfort in melancholy.

Reprieve is perhaps DiFranco's most cohesive record to date, never really feeling the need to shift out of its plaintive mood, which is both good and bad. Aside from the fantastic ‘Half-Assed', surely soon to be regarded as an Ani classic, there is little here to truly stir you out of your seat. Perhaps I miss the band. Perhaps I miss the point. Check out righteousbabe.com for an explanation of the cover art and a clearer idea of what she's trying to say. For now though, there may not be much time for dancing but Ani DiFranco is still standing, still singing and that, for us, is the most important thing.

Matthew Hall
originally published August 10th, 2006 

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Cara Dillon
After The Morning ••••
Rough Trade

With her unique blend of traditional and contemporary folk, Cara Dillon has garnered truckloads of awards and comparisons with everyone from Kate Bush to Joni Mitchell, and often with the charming Kate Rusby, whom she replaced as a member of the so-called brat pack folk-rock group Equation. This remarkable third solo album should see her finally coming out from behind the shadow of Rusby, not least for its bold use of blue- grass, and is easily her most confident statement of intent to date.

Recorded with her husband Sam Lakeman (brother of critical favourite Seth), guests include her sister Mary, influential folk veteran Martin Simpson and Paul Brady, who duets on the traditional number ‘The Streets Of Derry' (which also goes by the name of ‘After The Morning', depending on who you ask). Despite the presence of such luminaries, it's Lakeman's skilful, textured playing that really colours the backdrops to Dillon's stunning vocals. Piano, accordion, mandolin, guitar and fiddle - you name it, he plays it, and plays it well. The shivery ‘October Winds' is an exquisite example, the music carrying along Dillon's rich, warm vocals in a heartfelt tribute to her dead father.

Even so, the strongest tracks are the stripped-down acoustic numbers such as ‘Here's A Health', ‘Bold Jamie' (one of Cara's own) and her near-definitive version of ‘The Snows They Melt The Soonest' with its sumptuous arrangement of piano and strings. Despite an occasional, presumably deliberate stab at getting some commercial airplay, the treasure to disappointment ratio is extraordinarily high. There's a timeless feel to the proceedings as a whole; Dillon's ability to really draw out the spark of traditional folk songs is almost unparalleled and much of the album's beauty lies in the words and the perfection of her delivery.

Forging a genuine connection with the listener is something that many traditional folk artists fall short of. Sure, they might sound pretty but they'll sometimes leave you cold. In this respect, Dillon is firmly in the premier league, ensnaring her audience with consummate ease. Indeed, her dedicated fanbase is something that many of her rival folkies would give their right arms for and After The Morning only serves to cement her elevated status. Three albums into her solo career, she might no longer be the next big thing but this is a real gem, an appealing collection full of confidence and a finely- honed sense of musicality.

Helen Ogden 
originally published August 23rd, 2006

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Sandy Dillon
Pull The Strings •••½ 
One Little Indian

For over 20 years, the career of Sandy Dillon has been one hell of a frightening fairground and somewhere along the line our gravel-voiced heroine must have smashed an entire hall of mirrors, such has been her god-awful luck. Incredibly, even her earlier struggles - two shelved albums and a terminated contract with Elektra - pale in comparison with the trials of the last five years. After losing her beloved husband and musical partner to a heart attack in 2001, Dillon has battled with cervical cancer and a terrifying ordeal with the MRSA superbug. That's a lot of black cats crossing hundreds of paths, each one dusted with a tonne of spilled salt, but instead of slinging it over her left shoulder into Beelzebub's eyes she's gargled it defiantly, refusing to be a martyr to ill health. Indeed, on the evidence of Pull The Strings, her most desolate, injured and grim recording yet (and that's saying something!), truly the woman could unseat the four horsemen and circumvent the apocalypse. Of course, some people would rather listen to a symphony of air raid sirens than to Dillon's serrated, half-strangled vocals, but frankly that's their loss. The sheer feral beauty and menace at work here adds a sometimes exquisite, always interesting texture that's totally unique.

Of the many moods and dense emotions captured throughout, the one that resonates most clearly is a longing for escape - escape from loneliness, escape into death, you name it. Though it may not sound like it on first listen, the vibrant and sinisterly sexual title track is actually a manifesto of atonement to the (wo)man upstairs. Joined on vocals by Alabama 3's growly Robert Love, Dillon's third-person tale of repentance becomes more akin to what the sound of mating basilisks must be like - full-blooded, throaty and raw above all else. The jaunty but creepy ‘Documents' and Dillon's remarkable turn on ‘Over My Head' are similarly sultry, while the raucous ‘I Fell In Love' is a darkly humorous swamp-blues stomper that returns her to the glass-eating Bessie Smith-inspired sound of her One Little Indian debut, Electric Chair. That she howls and wails as if having a grand mal seizure is really all just part of the fun.

Anyone who has followed Dillon's career will know that for all her impressive vocal extremities, her real forte lies in torch song balladry. Fortunately, Pull The Strings does not disappoint on that front either, from the traditional number ‘Motherless Children' and the sumptuous cover of Hoagy Carmichael's jazz standard ‘Baltimore Oriole' to the exhausting, occasionally morbid but beautiful tributes to her husband (‘Enter The Flame', ‘Wedding Night') and her own lost innocence (‘Play With Ruth', ‘Broken Promises'). Throughout these heartfelt weepies run subtle flourishes of organ, electric piano and softly brushed snare, not to mention musical saw for that added tearjerk factor. Dillon even wheels out a harmonium on ‘Why?', a sweetly-sung duet (again with Robert Love) that's almost vaudevillian and slightly but nicely cheesy. ‘Who's Answering' follows the theme of accepting destiny as Dillon implores whoever or whatever lies beyond the grave to see her in safely and with a little comfort - "give me a lover, a bed and some gin / I beg the one who's answering" - delivered with poignancy, believability and soul.

Doing justice to a Sandy Dillon album is an impossible task; like the music itself, it takes a lot of perseverance, repeated listens and an open mind, and you may still end up not knowing what to make of it. Certainly, those who are faint of heart should steer clear, but if you're the sort who worships Captain Beefheart, Tom Waits or just loves a challenge, there's much to enjoy here. It's a little over-long, however, and making it to the conclusion of ‘Carnival Of Dreams' in just one sitting guarantees an arduous listen. That said, in the triumph over adversity stakes, it's a truly remarkable statement from one of our finest, most uncompromising artists.

Alan Pedder
originally published May 26th, 2006 

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Dixie Chicks
Taking The Long Way ••••
Columbia

Taking The Long Way is the Dixie Chicks's fourth studio album, produced by man of the moment Rick Rubin. The girls share writing credits on all the tracks - a first for them - with such songwriting luminaries as Sheryl Crow, Neil Finn and Gary Louris of The Jayhawks. There's a conscious effort to expand upon the acoustic, bluegrass feel of 2002's Home. Driving rhythm guitar and threepart harmonies abound in a nod to the ‘rockier' side of country. Fear not Chicks fans, the banjo, mandolin and fiddle still play a major part. It's clear that Maines, Maguire and Robison haven't totally abandoned their Nashville cousins, but be under no illusions - this is the sound of three competent songwriters with a wealth of experience cutting loose, both musically and lyrically.

Yes, they have bones to pick. Yes, they choose to do so with a certain lack of subtlety, but who can blame them? Their run-in with Dubya received more column inches of newsprint than can possibly be deemed healthy in a world where unspeakable horrors occur on a daily basis. But don't be fooled by the media backlash; the Chicks were courting controversy way back on 2001's ‘Goodbye Earl' and the acerbic ‘White Trash Wedding' from Home. If you think these girls are a manufactured country-pop wet dream, think again - they've always had the chops, the humour and, yes, the intelligence to shake it up with the best of them.

Taking The Long Way opens with ‘The Long Way Round', a road movie Don Henley would be proud to have written. It's a fine way indeed to say ‘we're back!' with the nice addition of some clever lyrical nods to earlier Chicks songs. ‘Easy Silence' follows with swathes of harmony and a plea for the simple things in life to keep you sane. Key talking point and canny first single ‘Not Ready To Make Nice' is Maines's response to the CD burning and radio boycott the band endured as a result of her London outburst; it rocks, it says what it has to, and it's followed by ‘Everybody Knows', a lovely melody and an introspective look at how the last two years has affected the close-knit trio.

It goes on. Each cut has merits, carefully constructed to achieve an emotional response and most hitting the right buttons. Maines courts the ire of her hometown with ‘Lubbock Or Leave It', which has the classic line "...this is the only place, where as you're getting on the plane, you see Buddy Holly's face..." Others worthy of multiple plays are ‘Favorite Year', a wistful look back at love gone wrong, and ‘Bitter End', which eloquently dissects the true meaning of friendship, but really, they're all pretty good. The Chicks have consistently improved with every album, and this is their best offering yet.

Unafraid to experiment, unafraid to steer their own path, the Dixie Chicks deserve a hearing. Forget the country tag and your own prejudices, this is a band at its peak; tune in or miss out.

Paul Woodgate
originally published July 10th, 2006 

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Tanya Donelly
This Hungry Life ••••
Eleven Thirty

As a member of Throwing Muses, The Breeders and Belly, Tanya Donelly helped construct the blueprint for American college rock, writing soaring, breathless pop songs that belied dark, complex lyrics and a twisted world view. With a knack for writing the aural equivalent of a beehive - songs dripping with honey but packed with stings - Donelly was achingly vital to the 1990s but maintaining people's interest over three acts proved a little too tough. Belly's second album King, in no way a poor piece of work, fell on deaf ears and Donelly struck out on her own. Since then, marriage and motherhood have seemingly tempered her solo work, with each album becoming more laidback than the last, to the point where 2003's country-laden Whiskey Tango Ghosts was practically supine.

On This Hungry Life, Donelly sets the hall of mirrors perspective that made her early work so exciting to the more traditional approach to songwriting that she has perfected. Opening with the line "it's June and I'm still wearing my boots", Donelly sings her sweet complaint in homage to New England. It's this playful contrariness that gallops through the album and makes for an enjoyable listen, coming furthest to the fore on the superb ‘Littlewing', a dark and unsettling song about falling in love.

Recorded in front of an audience in the bar of a deserted hotel on a sweltering weekend in 2004, This Hungry Life is one of those rare albums that are recorded live without being ‘live albums' per se. The live band - including Catholic (in the Frank Black sense) Rich Gilbert, Dean ‘Mr Donelly' Fisher, Bill Janovitz and (almost inevitably these days) Joan ‘As Police Woman' Wasser - provide excellent accompaniment to Donelly's liquid glycerine vocals. The heatwave conditions and setup of the recordings certainly worked for this line-up; no amount of studio time could ever improve the title track, a pedal-steel extravaganza that's bound to break hearts. Elsewhere, the title of ‘Kundalini Slide', one of the album's standouts, sounds a bit like an attempt by Rory Bremner's George Bush to pronounce the name of Condoleeza Rice, which may not in fact be all that coincidental as the lyrics represent a politically charged attack on intolerance and violence.

If a couple of the tracks retread the same matronly ground of the past two albums, Donelly's mellifluous singing saves them and other tracks more than make up for any slight failings. This Hungry Life is a vibrant collection of songs through which a love of life and of live performance shines. If this is Donelly's hungry life, is it wrong to kinda hope that she never ever gets a square meal?

Peter Hayward
originally published December 17th, 2006

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The Dresden Dolls
Yes, Virginia ••••
Roadrunner

If one thing sets the Dresden Dolls apart from pretty much anyone else around right now, it's their confrontational and discomforting honesty. It's something they practice in life as well as in their music - the blogs Amanda Palmer posts online dissect her insecurities and anxieties in detail. Take this for example: "i prefer sleeping alone nowadays. i barely think about love. i have plenty. i haven't had a boyfriend in so long i've forgotten what it's like. honestly." The band also publish the wonderfully inarticulate hatemail they receive on their site (sample: "could you plase do something like kill yourselves,before you come to toronto, seeing you would probabnly ruin my life" - spelling mistakes author's own - or "if you ever come to atlanta call me up 678-XXX-XXXX and i'll fuckin beat your ass") as well as collecting together some of the savage and abusive reviews they've received.

It's this honesty that makes their music so entirely compelling, and Yes, Virginia - the follow-up to their 2004 self-titled debut - makes for truly startling listening. Building upon the dark themes and manic yet melodic style of their debut, it represents an artistic progression on every level - musically, lyrically and vocally. Palmer has extended her vocal range to incorporate a whole new palate of sounds, and, in places, sounds more aggressive than ever before. The songs are powerful and muscular, tempered with moments of tenderness made all the more affecting by the tempestuous menace that surrounds them. The Dolls have grown more confident, too, adding layer upon layer of insistent, pounding pianos and cascading drums to create a driving and sometimes frantic sound.

The insistent piano riff that opens the record is extremely ominous - like listening to the first rumbling tones of a coming thunderstorm - and it's not long before a shout from Amanda heralds the entrance of Brian Viglione's pummelling drums. Songs turn from tender to vicious in the space of a couple of lines. ‘Delilah', one of the album's highlights, describes the frustration of watching a friend wilfully enter a violent relationship: "He's gonna beat you like a pillow / you schizos never learn / and if you take him home / you'll get what you deserve". From a hushed, piano and vocal opening, the song builds until the frustration and powerlessness in the lyrics is reflected in the epic, operatic music. Lyrically, the album is often violent and disturbing, with images of mutilation and surgery recurring throughout without ever sounding like they're merely out to shock. Perhaps this is because Palmer's writing is shot through with dark humour and a rare wit. ‘Shores Of California', for example, is a clever dissection of male and female coping mechanisms for being single, with lyrics like "all I know is that all around the nation / the girls are crying, the boys are masturbating".

There are occasional moments where the lyrics veer close to self-parody, but the Dolls are too knowing and self-aware to succumb to such pitfalls: on ‘Dirty Business', Amanda sings "Am I the poster girl for some suburban sickness?" while the unmitigated stream of aggression running through the chorus of ‘Backstabber' ("Backstabber, backstabber / greedy fucking fit-haver") would seem ridiculously emo were the lyrics not married to the catchiest melody the band have ever penned. Furthermore, the song ends with a demented cackle as if to tell you the band know exactly how closely they've been flirting with the ridiculous.

Yes, Virginia is not an easy listen, but it's an exciting, raw and emotional one. However you might categorise the Dresden Dolls - and they have been variously labelled as theatrical rock, punk cabaret, manic-musical, neoglam-torch