The Dandy Warhols
Welcome To The Monkey House

THE REVIEW

"Welcome to the monkey house", or the translation of "Welcome To The Monkey House" in the Vonnegutian sense of the term. I haven't yet had the opportunity to read the collection of short stories (one could say "racconti," since it's all the same, but given that this is a review of the Dandy Warhols, it's worth trying to be a bit "cool") that lends its title to the album I'm reviewing today; it seems to be unavailable, but somehow I am certain that it has very little to do with this melting pot of drum machines and pesky synthesizers, of falsetto choruses and (when you hear them) pseudo-grunge guitars, of minimalist and nonsense lyrics and stabs of hipster irony like the ones frontman Courtney Taylor-Taylor delivers in the intro/title track: "The Wire are back / They sued Elastica / When Michael Jackson is dead, we’ll play 'Blackbird'." And after hits like "Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth" and "Bohemian Like You," our artists couldn’t find anything better than to collaborate with Tony Visconti (producer), Simon LeBon (choruses in the catchy "Plan A") Nile Rodgers (guitar in "I Am A Scientist", one of the best of the bunch) and Evan Dando (who co-signs with Taylor-Taylor the melancholic "You Were The Last High"). In this frenzy of collaborations, with its exaggerated and lush productions, with its stupidity and ostentation almost flaunted as if they were the flags of musical perfection, substance and emotion find little room. They have never been distinctive qualities of the music of the Dandies from Portland, but in this specific case, they seem to be close to zero.

So what can one seek in this album? Perhaps one could attempt an analysis. At a first glance, "Welcome To The Monkey House" might appear as a sort of chronicle of an existential crisis wrapped in the cold and shiny layers of synthesizers, and its progression mimics that of a party: it starts with dancing and jumping madly ("We Used To Be Friends", a fitting choice as the first single) continues with blatant self-celebration ("The Dandy Warhols Love Almost Everyone") begins to feel the chill of the "come down" ("You Were The Last High", "I Am Sound") and realizes one's condition of emptiness and mediocrity (the long and concluding "(You Come In) Burned", a pastiche of over seven minutes mixing trip-hop and psychedelia with fairly positive results, though perhaps stretching it too thin).

The verdict on this bombastic and blatantly glam album? A rather haphazard mix of synth-pop, dance, funk, and disco with occasional detours into the trancier and more hallucinatory psychedelia. Few choruses, little fun, a lot of melancholy, and decidedly, I repeat, very little substance. If this is the emblem of cool, well, then...