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.

Blaqk Audio- CexCells (****½)

My knowledge about Dance/Electronica/Acid music is very limited. I think it's the fact that technicality really isn't an issue while playing many of these sounds and the fact that my ear isn't as trained to a synthesizer as it is a Les Paul also might have something to do with it. At best, I know a handful of electronica bands from the 80s and 90s that pretty much everyone could identify, but they are identifiable for a reason. Depeche Mode, Aphex Twin, and VNV Nation are all staples and innovators that have that distinct luxury of being accessible at the same time. And while Blaqk Audio borrows from many places that those bands have treaded before them, the way they present/perform them is unique to themselves.

Comprised of “two boys in love with synthesizers and software,” Blaqk Audio is the brain child of AFI’s Davey Havok and Jade Puget. Both responsible for the AFI’s ultimate embrace of electronic and industrial sounds, these two created CexCells as a way for them to pay an homage to their electronic idols while forging ahead with their own style. This is NOT, an AFI album. Those enamored with the cold aesthetics of Decmeberunderground songs like “Love Like Winter” and “37mm” will be disappointed with CexCells’ downright dance oriented sound. However those hoping for hook-heavy, densely layered, electronic music are in for quite a treat.

What separates CexCells from the myriad of sounds it samples from is the fact that the arrangements are tuneful and tasteful. Unlike some of their contemporaries, Blaqk Audio arrangements are never too sparse to be boring, but never as cluttered or pounding as to turn off listeners. Ideally, this is club music without the nasty repetitiveness that usually makes listeners avoid club music. “Bitter For Sweet” utilizes some positively crushing beats that delay into the distance as quickly as they appear. Havok’s voice pierces the dense squiggles and synthesizer sounds like a fragile soul with a secret to tell. “Can you tell me/What stops the pain?/Self-medication…” he whispers the listener. Elsewhere, the relentless “Snuff On Digital” is a fast paced dance number with a thumping bass that drives the song. In addition, the well placed synthesizer layerings build and build until the song positively explodes. “Immobile lights/Will fly tonight/We'll watch them pass/Together as we/Part the rising sky…” The hook is as gorgeous and magnificent as the scene Havok paints for the listener.

Blaqk Audio songs run the gambit from the painfully melancholy, to the dark and edgy pop that will satisfy listeners of dance music. The ballads are where Havok truly shines as a lyricist. Not that Puget’s somber piano stylings of “The Love Letter” go unnoticed, but lines like “Walk right through me, I'm not really there.” simply tear on the heart strings. The same dark eloquence that soaks through AFI’s lyrics are prevalent here in Blaqk Audio, but here he’s able to explore topics of sexuality more so than he could with his other band. The results are intriguing and add to the overall seductive feel of CexCells. “On A Friday” relays prose such as, “Did you question what it meant to you/With a beat between your breaths?” Havok’s imagery is never questionable throughout the album’s 50 minute running time, a feat that usually plagues most side projects.

The music itself is varied too. From the rave-like flair of “Semiotic Love” to the highly digital but melodic Depeche Mode-esque “Stiff Kittens,” Puget is careful to borrow his ideas for arrangements but never outright steal or settle for mediocrity. His ear is careful enough to make every song stand on its own, giving listeners distinct melodies that stick with them. Havok is also careful to lend his voice to the music. While his voice is always captivating, he often stretches far out of his range on some of AFI’s material. Here, his deeper tones make him sound far more forceful and comfortable with this range.

Puget and Havok have jointly crafted a record with tremendous cross over appeal. While it might alienate hardcore followers of this brand of music, it its accessible enough for people unfamiliar with these sounds. Hopefully, Blaqk Audio will serve as a great gateway band for some people to dive right into the world of electronic music. The album’s last track is called “Wake Up, Open The Door & Escape To The Sea.” Let’s hope that these two don’t escape anywhere without celling us more Blaqk Audio in the future.

Sounds Like: Richard D. James Album (Aphex Twin), Music For The Masses (Depeche Mode), Empires (VNV Nation)

Key Cuts: Stiff Kittens, Snuff On Digital, Bitter For Sweet

Interpol- Our Love To Admire (****)

By all accounts, Interpol is a band I should hate. These New Yorkers are hyped by anyone with a set of headphones, any shred of “indie cred,” and anyone with a love of all things 80s. At first glance, it’s also possible to write off Interpol as a Joy Division rip off that reworks the “goth/post-punk” feel and mid tempo song so much that it’s tiring. I should despise this band.

But I don’t. The hype is warranted and their songs are more gratifying the more one invests.

I’ll also add that as you sink your ears into their third album, you won’t hate them either. Our Love To Admire is a brisk record that finds Interpol paying homage to their dark and satisfying past while making headlong progress for the future. The beginnings of the album's first track “Pioneer To The Falls will have you riveted. Over Daniel Kesseler’s great lead work, singer Paul Banks is down to business dishing out the self-deprecation, “Show me the dirt pile/And I will pray/That the soul can take/Three stowaways…” And alongside all this melancholia, this epic opener goes through many different movements, a quiet percussive portion, an exciting tremolo picked solo, and Banks’ very own vocal showcase. Carlos Dengler’s bass rumbles and the Sam Forgarino’s drums change tempo on a dime. Snyths underscore much of this track, adding just the right atmosphere while the ending carefully employs the use of brilliant horns.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is just the first track!

Interpol have set out to do much more with this release than craft some intelligent songs. This time, the hints of atmosphere they always flirted with run amok on Our Love To Admire. If Antics served as the sound of this band honing its writing and structural skills from it’s previous underground sensation, Our Love To Admire serves as them pushing their sound towards more than just the conventional song. Mood is the name of the game here, for we see the band crafting compelling intros, and mesmerizing outros. The album never lets it’s ambition hinder the band though. These guys rely on their strengths of writing some great angular guitar lines, quick drum changes, and tense bass work. “The Heinrich Maneuver” might be nod to their tight songwriting on Antics, but its instrumentation takes listeners on a more winding journey. The band isn’t afraid to phase out instruments, add some in at unexpected times, and gradually allow them into the whole mix.

This exercise in choice adds to something Interpol have always done well from the get go: create tension. Sure, to the untrained ear (and for a long while my own ear), every Interpol song might sound too similar. However, the band always created an exceptional mood with its songs. As upbeat as the dance grooves might have been, the suspense and tension was always there in Interpol’s music and this album is no different. This time however, their idea in creating tension has to do with what instruments they allow to rise and fall into the song itself. There is a section on the song “Mammoth” where a hypnotic guitar line plays alongside Banks’ somber croon and suddenly the bass and drums explode in as he continues his venomous tirade. These soft to loud dynamics are something that The Pixies were masters of, but Interpol have used it nicely to round out their sound. Elsewhere, the cascading melodies of “Rest My Chemistry” bring not only the atmosphere, but genuinely envelop the listener in Banks’ depression. “But you're so young/You're so young/You look in my eyes/You're so young/So sweet/So surprised…” is all sung over a delicate guitar line that sends shivers up one’s spine just before erupting in an incredible flurry of a guitar solo.

Tension, indeed.

One thing is for certain though; Rich Costey deserves some recognition here. He’s helped the band sound full and big. The guitars shimmer and the rhythm section pounds and while none of their albums could really be considered lo-fi, Costey makes the band sound vibrant. He meticulously adds to their fullness, their atmosphere, and the tension they create. “Pace Is The Trick” begins with a rather seductive guitar line that seems to build and build until it all comes crashing in at the caustic chorus, “And now I select you/Slow down I let you/See how I stun/See how I stun…” Costey knows how the band wants to impact listeners and it’s rare that production fits a group as well as it does here.

The real gem of the album however, would have to be the closing track, “The Lighthouse.” Here the soft/loud dynamic is in full force. Implementing only snyths and a furiously strummed guitar line that leaves just as quickly as it arrives, Banks laments about how his calls of warning go unnoticed by those that need it most. Ironically it serves as a great contradiction, for the music here on Our Love To Admire leaves a lasting impression. The textures, the atmospheres, they are all something to relish and lose oneself in. If Interpol keeps crafting albums like this one, we’ll have many more reasons to admire.

Sounds Like: Pornography (The Cure), Closer (Joy Division), Achtung Baby (U2)

Key Cuts: Pioneer To The Falls, Rest My Chemistry, The Lighthouse