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THE REVIEW
“Somewhere in the twentieth century…”
Sometimes I feel like Sam Lowry in “Brazil”… an anonymous and unsuspecting employee swallowed by an oppressive and labyrinthine Information Department. An endless series of strictly numbered office-hives and an office worker fauna in ritual automatic operation. The mirage is a tragicomic future where unstoppable technological progress will lead us to the Divine Multimedia Convergence. But the Bugs are always lurking, ready to undermine the System, scattering it with Anomalies…
In this convoluted science-fictional design, my task is to catalog unknown artists destined for the online music sales sector… oceans of meta-music to which I must reassign the “essence,” that is, give a soul back... By rummaging through the vast catalogs that arrive daily, I often find hidden treasures. Such is the case of Amanda Barrett and Abby DeWald, known as “The Ditty Bops”, discovered on a gloomy September afternoon and immediately selected as the soundtrack of my autumn. Love at first listen, something that hadn’t happened since the days of Tori Amos’ “Under The Pink”…
Enchanting melodies, exquisitely folk vocal harmonies and retro arrangements, the Ditty Bops seem like the country version of their Parisian colleagues CocoRosie. The roots are markedly oldies, with references and citations to vaudeville shows and the Nashville country/bluegrass tradition.
The bizarre duo was discovered by Mitchell Froom, a well-known producer in the American musical jet-set (Sheryl Crow and Suzanne Vega), who skillfully packaged the project with a veil of pop patina, without affecting the spontaneous chemistry between the two girls.
The 12 tracks thus result in an adorable mixture of guitars, mandolins, and dulcimer, refined and picturesque, well constructed and effectively arranged.
With “Walk or Ride”, the Ditty Bops capture us in their enchanted world, inviting us to an extravagant jaunt among acoustic guitars, mellotron, and jagged percussions. The trip continues with “Whishful Thinking”, a theatrical spectacle on pessimism and coincidences.
More nocturnal and innocently spectral is "Ooh La La", a ballad inspired by southern blues riffs and enriched by a refined banjo accompaniment. “Sister Kate” recalls the burlesque atmospheres of Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks with slide piano and a grand cabaret finale. “Breeze Black Night” and “Unfortunate Few” have a more desolate and gloomy mood, illuminated by some piano and mandolin sparkles. And there couldn't be a lack of a charming waltz, "Four Left Feet", with a pressing rhythm, caressed by accordion and violin. "Short Stacks” is the most delightful track, suspended between melancholy and hope, reminiscent of folk singer-songwriter sounds like Cat Power. The album closes with “Wake Up”, the last musical pearl. Steady and discreet, it seems to bid us farewell and invite us to the next listen.
In the meantime, I await the Anomaly capable of disrupting my pale existence, deluding myself that the Divine Convergence cannot control dreams…
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Summary by Bot
This review praises The Ditty Bops’ self-titled debut for its enchanting folk harmonies and vintage country roots. Produced by Mitchell Froom, the album blends guitars, mandolins, and other acoustic instruments to create a charming and theatrical soundscape. Highlight tracks like "Walk or Ride," "Ooh La La," and "Short Stacks" showcase their diverse moods, from lively to melancholic. Overall, the album is celebrated as a delightful and nostalgic autumn soundtrack.Tracklist Lyrics Videos
02 Wishful Thinking (02:39)
Why does blood turn brown when it dries?
Why do the tears well up in your eyes?
Why didn't I learn to ride my bike
When it was warm and sunny outside?
Why can't little kids tie their shoes?
Why can't the white people play the blues?
Why can't I fall in love with you?
It must be because of the seasons.
When the leaves start falling from the trees,
When the birds start flirting with the bees,
When the wind starts blowing from the East to the West;
Maybe you'll be the one that I like best.
Clouds start forming I can't complain,
'Cause I think we might be in need of some rain.
When it starts pouring
Don't hide away without me.
I bought an umbrella big enough for two,
But it feels pretty empty under here without you.
Dry as a bone but I'm still alone
I'm so grey..
When you're standing in a puddle with wet feet
And your head is sore from pounding drops of sleet
When the cold and lonely hours put your heart to the test
Maybe I'll be the one that you like best
If the sky can open its eyes
And cry from up above
Let's shed some tears of joy
And fall in love
When you're standing in a puddle with wet feet;
And your head is sore from pounding drops of sleet.
When the cold and lonely hours put your heart to the test..
Maybe I'll be the one that you like best.
03 Ooh La La (03:52)
What among the lovers
What twang of temptation
What brought the house down
Strange sleepwalkers on the block
Unfamiliar writing on the ceiling
When she looks up
Momma buried pop atop the roof where he slept
One leg on each side of pointed shingles
Latest tests prove that she's happier with more
The oyster is open for any to pearl
Still she's got three different lullablies to sing
These fruited images are delicacies
Was it the fighting was it the fist
Was it adventure with a jealous twist
Was it desire for another's kiss
What brought the house down
Turmoil and passion such wondrous things
What they called Summer lovers happening in Spring
Who's dreaming of who tonight
Who'll be walking by your side
At the dawning's first light
Do all he can to save a soon to be dead past
Give it all up to find a new way that will last
Was she wrong to hold his heart another person's hand
The grass is always greener 'til it's covered up with sand
Was it other things
Fate, felicity
What rousing temptation
She knew that love could swell without barricades
Standards must be broken even these
Now she has three different lullabies to sing
These fruited images lead her to sleep
Was it the fighting was it the fist
Was it adventure with a jealous twist
Was it desire for another's kiss
What brought the house down
06 Gentle Sheep (03:24)
Clock in you’re at work but you’re not working so hard
Checking messages ten times a day ensuring you’re not bored
Talking on someone else’s dime
Put a quarter in the pay phone don’t keep them waiting on the line
Rushing through time just to find myself
Asking someone in the future if they’d save me a space
Cause the line’s getting longer with every hour
People forget why they’re waiting
The mood’s turning sour
I don’t want to go to school tomorrow
Stay up late watching TV
Eat a midnight snack I’ll pretend it’s Friday
Complacent as I’ll ever be
See those gentle sheep following a path to who knows where
Chewing on the grass so plentiful the wool is growing thicker
But the grass is made of plastic and there’s plastic on the grass
A mechanical lady with her garden hose waters the cement
Where’s my mystical pan who plays on his flute?
Dancing entrancing those who choose to hear his tune
There’ll be a man who comes out of hiding
He’ll be the one who forces you to decide
Why can’t I just believe just believe?
I can move my feet
Pondering is a step beyond wondering
Complacent as I’ll ever be
07 Pale Yellow (02:48)
Pale yellow scratching at my ear,
Pale yellow touching to my rear
Forever tangled, forever mustard,
Forever my first word's beer,
Forever yellow, wonder if I'll muster
Anything other than fear
Pale yellow, wanting something clear,
Pale yellow, daunting task cannot be that near
Forever leering, forever dashing,
Forever looking to peers,
Forever hollow, that's worse than yellow,
Piss is the color of tears,
This is the color of tears
Running scared,
Running scared
Pale yellow holding on,
Brace myself to stand,
Tell myself it is okay,
Taking my own hand
Forever peering into the water,
Returning back to the sea,
Under the sea foam,
Where I have come from,
Breathing freely
Forever yellow, forever yellow
09 There's a Girl (03:02)
There’s a girl that you might know
She’s a friend at least I tell you so
But it might surprise you to find
There’s something going on behind the door
When I’m asleep it gives me time to think
Thoughts that I wouldn’t dare speak aloud
I couldn’t bare myself before a crowd
I bide my time while biting my tongue
Hold closed my mouth so song is unsung
Get to the meat of things already
With buried secrets the ground is heavy
That’s just the way things used to be
There’s a girl who’s close to me
Closer than you’d like to think
Dig up all the dirt you see
There’s always more than underneath
I bide my time while biting my tongue
Hold closed my mouth so song is unsung
Get to the meat of things already
With buried secrets the ground is heavy
That’s just the way things used to be
10 Unfortunate Few (04:02)
Oh you unfortunate few
Nobody’s listening to me
It came at a time when I just started
To say something interesting
Bubbling thoughts I’ve been thinking a lot
But I don’t write them down with a smile
More of a frown as I’m looking down
No pen in my pocket no pockets to fill
Far too long ago my chances were slim
I’m knocking the door but they won’t let me in
Configuring why takes the whimsy from whim
You’re all blocking the door won’t you please let me in
Oh you unfortunate few
Stuck in your special space
I’m here on my own though I’m not alone
It feels like a miserable place
At first you remember but then you forget
And once I’m forgotten you can’t get me back
I’m knocking the door but nobody hears
I’m banging it down won’t you answer it please
And nobody’s asking for more
Nobody’s looking for anything
Nobody wants me to say a thing
Nobody misses the missing
Ascend or Descend
Upon a plot with the same ending
My timing’s no good
But it saves me from troubles ahead
But you might not be figured with eyes
Might not be figured with ears
Might not be something to figure at all
Until you are actually here
I’ve gone back on my words which constantly change
I believe what I mean at the time that I say them
I’m climbing a wall of infinite height
I couldn’t go through, though I try as I might
They’re telling me fictional distractions
Fictional stories
I have heard enough of these
Is anybody missing me?
11 Short Stacks (02:47)
I am treading on cow pile mountains
Before you answer my call
Lounging at breakfast a recoiled monster
With tied mouth somehow telling all
Before it breaks before you've listened
Short stacks are sitting high
Lips are dry maybe you're guessing why
Don't mean to make you sick
It just works out that way
You say it's walnut bread
We know it's what I say
Friends do tell me it's best to say little
The less you put out the less that's gone
But sitting here lazing the smaller I feel
'Cause I expand when I let on
My love for you is not like friendship
Can you tell from my brave toned words
This timid girl likes very much your hand
The Ditty Bops
American acoustic duo Amanda Barrett and Abby DeWald, noted for close vocal harmonies and retro/vaudeville-country arrangements; their self-titled album was packaged with production involvement from Mitchell Froom.01 Reviews
