The Dresden Dolls- No, Virginia... (****)

Compilation albums usually signify a few things.

Most often, record labels decide to squeeze out a few dollars from a band that’s not producing a steady enough income. Or, they are honest to goodness efforts by the artist to give their fans songs that are very near and dear to them. This unfortunately, will ultimately make the collection feel eclectic due to the fact that the material wasn’t recorded all at one time.

It’s a delicate situation with huge implications.

But the one band that has decided to pull it off to near perfection is The Dresden Dolls. For after their extensive touring behind 2006’s Yes, Virginia…, the duo of Amanda Palmer and Brian Viglione took the time to compile old songs, unreleased tracks and soundtrack exclusives on what would be called, No, Virginia… The collection of songs runs an extensively through their back catalog as well as sporting three tracks recorded this past January with producer Sean Slade.

The first thing that’s evident about No, Virginia… is how crystal-clear all the tracks are. While a majority of the songs are studio recorded b-sides and soundtrack contributions, a few of them are explicitly labeled as demos but feel like completely fleshed out tracks. Everything from Palmer’s schizophrenic piano lines to Viglione’s bludgeoning skins work is in top form, and the songs have a nice sense of space but avoid feeling sparse.

The collection’s real gem is the darkly tinged “Lonesome Organist Rapes Page Turner,” where the band’s grim cabaret aesthetic blends seamlessly with punk ferocity. Here, Palmer’s piano chords are fluttering and frantic, providing the back bone for a lurid tale about seduction and power. Of all the female vocalists in contemporary music, Palmer is the most unique offering up grating yelps one moment, to sugary croons the next.

It’s pure camp and Palmer pulls it off flawlessly, painting herself as a victim of circumstance and naivety with lines such as, “So on the bench I watched his left hand crossing/While doubling entendres with the voicings/He said ‘Oh darling, you're charming/Please don't find it alarming…’” Set against’ Viglione’s manic cymbal work and ferocious rolls, the 3 minute and 42 second tale dips and dives from hilarious to horrifying like only The Dresden Dolls know how.

Much like their two proper studio albums, No, Virginia… is filled with these theatrical vaudevillian tendencies that make The Dresden Dolls so compelling to listen to. Tracks like the disjointed “Dear Jenny” and self-deprecating “Sorry Bunch” find Palmer’s colorful voice spewing caustic lines with infinite pop appeal. Despite how well the hooks work, this is far from a “safe” collection of songs. The melodies twist and turn on a dime, with each song illustrating gripping stories rather than generalities that plague contemporary pop music.

Yet for as far as their exuberant cabaret infused image gets them, some of the most compelling songs on No, Virginia… are when Palmer and Viglione build delicate and intricate arrangements that build from soft piano tinkerings to overwhelming walls of sound. “The Mouse & The Model” starts off subdued as Palmer’s piano seems to climb and climb along the military-like drum pattern that underscores the track. Palmer’s ivory work is all as once cascading and huge, tender but forceful. Juggling such a variety of sounds usually makes for a disaster, but Palmer executes it with such deft control over her instrument that it’s quite a feat to behold.

The band also excels when they focus on small and intimate sounds as well. The sexually charged “The Gardener” plods along at a sinister pace. It pulls listeners in with its hypnotic bass and haunting piano, but its charm lies in Palmer’s ability to tap into something primal. With lyrics such as, “Don’t rest my little flower/You're getting put to use/You've always been a failure/But now you're bearing strange new fruit…” she evokes lingering images in half-whispered tension. When the track finally crescendos in a flurry of melodic dissonance, it serves as an unsettling but much needed catharsis to Palmer’s foreboding tale.

There is no shortage of quality songs on No, Virginia… but there are a few that feel out of place or at least underdeveloped. “The Kill” is a leftover b-side from Yes, Virginia… and plays out as such, feeling a tad cookie-cutter for such a lively group. Elsewhere, the somber closing ballad “Boston” feels like the band’s attempt to re-write their epic “Truce.” And their cover of “Pretty In Pink” is far too cheerful for the overall collection, feeling the most out of place even if the track is a sincere homage to the original.

But No, Virginia… is a perfect sum of all its parts. Far from an album full of throwaways, it serves as a testament to a band that crafts lively stories within a highly theatrical style. The Dresden Dolls all at once demonstrate that they are consistent in what they do well, and that their experimentation can yield incredible pay-offs.

And ultimately, it’s difficult to believe this hodgepodge set of songs isn’t a proper studio album.

Sounds Like: Yes, Virginia… (The Dresden Dolls), Clear Hearts Grey Flowers (Jack Off Jill), Murder Ballads (Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds)

Key Cuts: The Mouse & The Model, The Gardener, Lonesome Organist Rapes Page Turner

Author's Note: This review appears in a recent issue of the Sonoma State Star. As this is the author's own writing and this is his own blog, in addition to holding the position of A&E Co-Editor for the Sonoma State Star, he posts it here with express consent of himself. Duh.

The Used- Shallow Believer E.P. (**½)

Some bands just become huge. 

And when this happens, their career can take many roads. They can continue to push their sound forward with the same passion that marked their early releases, or they can change their approach to where everything is calculated and constructed in their music. When this happens, it’s usually the band’s own indulgences in the studio that decreases the quality of their work.

For The Used, their new digital E.P., Shallow Believer, is the perfect illustration of how a band transitions from earnest, passionate song writing, to overworking and overloading their music. The 10 track E.P. is a collection of b-sides and rarities that spans the group’s three studio albums; showing fans that The Used’s drastic change in sound has served them as “hit or miss” at best.

“Dark Days” begins the collection and right off the bat you can tell that the band is aiming for a dense sound. Quinn Allman’s dry acoustic guitar is layered with ethereal sounds, synthetic drums, and faint murmurings from front man Bert McCracken. It’s ambient for the sake of ambient, because after 20 seconds McCracken lets loose a throaty shriek that welcomes chugging guitars and a pulsing mid-section.

The song continues in typical fashion with McCracken’s half-spoken verses and large swelling choruses carrying the melody, but the ending is where it gets ridiculous. For the last minute, the instruments cut out leaving only McCracken’s forced falsetto and a lone piano to close out the number.

Since when did The Used start channeling Elton John?

This exemplifies what’s wrong with Shallow Believer and the way that the band approaches song craft these days. There is simply too much going on in these tracks, like they took bits and pieces of unrelated sounds and strung them together as well as adding extra instrumentation that overburdens the material. Rather than consolidating and scaling back the arrangements, or making logical progressions, the band overworks the material and destroys the spontaneity of the songs.

Not every song needs a giant string section, a somber piano break, or glitzy electronic beats to catch people’s ears. Some of these tracks like the sparkling “Sun Comes Up” and the melancholy “Sick Hearts” might have had more staying power if they didn’t sound like they were backed by a full orchestra, or if they sounded remotely close their lyrical subject matter.

The only time where this schizophrenic merging of sound comes up with something interesting is on the fuzzed out “Into My Web” and horn driven “Back Of Your Throat.” A b-side from their second album, “Into My Web” displays a more natural progression from cascading melodies, to a pulsing up stroked guitar rhythm and a, messy bridge that adds depth rather than length. It’s one of the few times on the E.P. where McCracken’s processed voice doesn’t detract from the song.

Elsewhere, the bombastic and swing influenced “Back Of Your Throat” sports an almost grungy guitar line and is augmented by full horns. It lumbers along just barely because of McCracken’s manic vocal delivery, but fails miserably with lyrics like, “In this exchange I often touch myself/To go ahead and let those dirty words pass right through me.”

McCracken is no Bob Dylan, but he’s penned some truly haphazard lyrics for these songs, ranging from horribly awful to incredibly forced. The acoustic closing ballad “Tunnel” sports huge swelling string arrangements as well as uninspired lines like, “Cause we are/The light in the tunnel/We are the living and dying/See how we are/Alone in the world…”

It’s clear that with lines like that, McCracken is hoping to have The Used show up on a “Monster Ballads” compilation one day.

Still, there are bright spots on this collection of songs; moments that remind you that The Used once filled their music with passion and reckless abandon. “Choke Me,” the hidden track on their self-titled album makes an appearance here to inject some life into the middle of the album. It’s an abrasive and caustic song that features the band battering away at their instruments in tightly organized chaos, while McCracken spills his guts out into the microphone.

The E.P.’s standout is “Slit Your Own Throat,” a song that failed to make it to the final cut of their previous album, “Lies For The Liars.” The frenzied drumming gives way to Allman’s dissonant and gritty guitar while McCracken spews some of the most venomous and hateful lines directed towards those that broke his heart.

In between McCracken’s tortured screams you can see what The Used began their career as and why they were so compelling in the first place. They used to perform songs with such anger and hatred, but tempered it ever so slightly to make it palatable. Lines like, “I gotta take this moment just to push you down/Spin you around with my foot at the back of your neck…” remind listeners of a band that reveled in how ugly and twisted they were, rather than how many hooks, or instruments, they could cram into a song.

And ultimately, Shallow Believer doesn’t live up to what the band once was. However, it proves that The Used were at their best when constructing chaotic and demented songs rather than overblown pop ballads. Perhaps on their next release, they’ll have little more faith in the old adage, less is more.

Sounds Like: Lead Sails Paper Anchor (Atreyu), The Black Parade (My Chemical Romance), Lies For The Liars (The Used)

Key Cuts: Slit Your Own Throat, Into My Web, Choke Me

Author's Note: This review appears in a recent issue of the Sonoma State Star. As this is the author's own writing and this is his own blog, in addition to holding the position of A&E Co-Editor for the Sonoma State Star, he posts it here with express consent of himself. Duh.

Radiohead- In Rainbows Disc 2 (****½)

With the dreaded nasty monster that is Final Exams over and done with; I can come back and update the masses on my musical exploits. As such, there’s quite a bit to catch up on, particularly once piece of music that got me through the hard, hard times I suffered through the past weeks.

As the distribution began for the discbox version of In Rainbows began, most people like myself (that didn’t shell out 80 pounds) only cared about the b-sides disc. For here on this disc was a collection of songs, a sizable collection of songs that were deemed unfit for the whole album that’s had the internet buzzing since it’s October giveaway. Curiosity and agitation aside, the songs found on In Rainbows Disc 2 are far from throwaway tracks.

Listening to them, one can’t help but be mesmerized at how seductive, jazzy and confident the band sounds during these songs. I think the In Rainbows sessions as a whole were the best thing to happen to the band, allowing them the stretch their legs just enough while enjoying themselves a bit, something that probably hasn’t happened in a decade. And interestingly enough, this collection of b-sides might be a bit more experimental than some of the songs found on the actual album.

Teased during Nigel Godrich’s “From The Basement Tapes” mini-concert the real highlight on this collection is “Down Is The New Up.” A tension filled string number lead by a sassy piano line, nimble bass work, and Thom Yorke’s signature tenor all at once pulls listeners in. There’s a sway and smoothness to this track that all at once gives it an edge as well as accessibility. And for as gloomy as the number is, the band sounds like their actually having fun which translates well to your eardrums. Rumor has it that the band left if off because it didn’t “fit” on the record.

Pardon my bluntness Radiohead, but I think this song would have followed “Nude” nicely.

While “MK1” and “MK2” are essentially cutting room floor interludes, they are breathy and ethereal snippets that continue to prove Radiohead just love to shape sound. They’re the only moment on the collection that feels like it’s been thrown together, because other than that it’s surprisingly cohesive.

“Last Flowers To Hospital,” a track that’s been labored over since the OK Computer days, follows in the vein of “Videotape.” A gentle piano progression helps put focus on Yorke’s mournful lyrics and somber voice. His singing just seems to climb and climb, much like something you might find on The Bends.

A lot like some of the tracks on In Rainbows, many of these tracks borrow the bizarre and off-kilter rhythms that this band love to hook you in with. “Bangers + Mash” could be somewhat of a cousin to “Bodysnatchers,” but the grungy and almost funky guitar work of Jonny Greenwood and Ed O’Brien creates something downright spazzy. Yorke’s half-rapped lyrics add just amount of swagger to a highly political song. It’s dissonant, full of melodies that are just a step off and bridge that brings it to a halt, yet further hammering home across that sometimes, a little weirdness goes a long way.

The rest of the collection revels in rich uses of feedback layered over Yorke’s cutting voice. “Go Slowly” is a vibrant yet dense soundscape under pinned yet again by a melancholy and ghost-like voice. The track lumbers along, providing listeners with a rich and intricate number that gives more and more upon each listen. Elsewhere, “Up On The Ladder” showcases gritty and swirling guitar lines over eerie keyboards. It’s probably the angriest the band gets on the collection if not the most volatile.

When a band’s b-sides can stand up proudly next to their album material, I think it’s just a testament to how in control of their craft they are. Radiohead are no exception, showing their fans that their recording sessions are full of vibrant experimentation and quality workmanship.

As a fan, I hope to get a CD copy of these songs that isn’t attached to an 80 pound collection.

Key Cuts: Down Is The New Up, Go Slowly, Last Flowers Till Hospital

Sounds Like: Sea Change (Beck), In Rainbows (Radiohead), Adore (The Smashing Pumpkins)

Sigur Rós- Hvarf/Heim (****)

On days where the rain clamors against the sidewalk in fits of rage and the wind is so cold is cuts through my layers like razor blades, I stay indoors. With minimal lights on and perhaps my favorite heated beverage of choice, I look out at the darkened landscape. I revel in the various hues of gray and black that litter the clouds because for me, such days are strikingly beautiful amidst the freezing cold.

It is in these moments, that Sigur Rós make the perfect musical accompaniment.

Hailing from Reykjavik, Iceland the gentlemen from Sigur Rós have been crafting their frigid take on minimalist post-rock since about 1997 and their new release Hvarf/Heim is no exception. Hvarf/Heim is a double disc release, culling together unreleased tracks, rerecorded arrangements of old favorites, and an acoustic performance the band played for their close families in Iceland.

The collection is a consistent affirmation of the often experimental, yet minimal compositions that these men excel at. While the collection itself doesn’t necessarily break them out of the comfortable niche they’ve created for themselves or push their sound forward, they still prove that their B-sides are worthy companions to their A-sides.

Hvarf begins with one of the standouts on the collection, “Salka,” a gentle track that begins with an ethereal guitar line and fragile xylophone melody. The song rises and dips, providing listeners with dense soundscapes that call to mind images of Sigur Rós’ frozen landscapes in Iceland. Guitarist/Vocalist Jón Þór Birgisson’s falsetto cuts the air with its smooth, airy presence while Orri Páll Dýrason provides some tumbling percussion to round out the track.

The treat is listening to Birgisson’s often melancholy croon as another instrument the band employs in its compositions. Birgisson sings in a language the band dubs Hopelandic. While some believe it’s derived from an Icelandic tongue that’s incredibly archaic, Hopelandic’s present incarnation renders it a hodgepodge of irrational syllables strung together. The result is that while Sigur Rós doesn’t reach out with a specific message in their lyrics, the pay off is on audiences appreciating Birgisson’s voice as an integral part in these arrangements.

Elsewhere, the shimmering “Í Gær” begins with resonating wind chimes that have been enhanced through studio trickery and looped alongside a jumpy keyboard line. It carries on until about a full minute in, where the drums and bass kick in on a downbeat and positively explode in sound. Swirling harmonies and fuzzed sounds are provided by Birgisson implementing an e-bow on his electric guitar. Soaked in delay effects, this method of playing his guitar creates dense and echoing sounds.

The guitar tones range from delicate to heavy, but never in a jagged sense. Making liberal use of the e-bow allows Sigur Rós to create atmospheres that feel like patches of fog on a winter day. There is fluidity rather than a metallic tone to their guitar. Another highlight is a rerecorded version of the band’s classic, “Von,” where they exploit this thick resonance to its fullest, nearly doubling the original track’s running time.

And if Hvarf is typical for Sigur Rós, than Heim will be the real surprise for listeners. The entire Heim disc is an acoustic concert the band treated their close friends and family to in April of 2007.

As a whole, the arrangements on Heim come across as far more organic and frail than the material on Hvarf. The band chooses to begin the concert with “Samskeyti” one of my favorite cuts originally found on their album ( ). With it’s spiraling and ascending piano line, the track builds alongside swelling strings until it finally plateaus and shrinks back again into quiet. The track is all at once stripped down from its studio incarnation, but not necessary raw in the way most songs are when performed acoustically.

The way Sigur Rós have chosen to leave their amps unplugged for this performance really emphasizes their classical influences. It further illustrates how melodic the band decides to make their arrangements. The real gem on Heim is the band’s rendition of “Vaka.” The track opens with muted horns, a jingly glockenspiel melody, and climbing strings. Birgisson’s tender voice gently soars alongside the velvety strings, giving listeners and almost dream-like composition. And unlike most live recordings, the absence of crowd noise really allows listeners to take in the music as if they were actually present.

Sigur Rós’ double disc collection succeeds on many levels. It’s perfect at showcasing the best the band has to offer while allowing audiences who haven’t experienced their live show, to take in the intimacy of what such an event might be like. And due to the dense nature of Sigur Rós’ song craft, it’s a great avenue for those that are curious about these Icelanders. The band’s decision to divide Hvarf/Heim into its electric and acoustic parts allows listeners to easily digest a band that averages 7 minute songs in two concise discs.

And who knows, maybe new listeners will be like me and find Sigur Rós to be the perfect companion to any freezing day.

Sounds Like: One Day I'll Be On Time (The Album Leaf), The Earth Is Not A Cold, Dead Place (Explosions In The Sky), ( ) (Sigur Rós)

Key Cuts: Salka, Í Gær, Vaka

Author's Note: This review appears in a recent issue of the Sonoma State Star. As this is the author's own writing, and his own blog for that matter, he posts it here with express consent of himself. Duh.