~ Who Killed Amanda Palmer?
Alright, Deedles, here it is, just like you asked! Note: Almost every song has an official video, which I have linked to in the song titles. Check ‘em out! Plus, it’s a good way to listen to the songs while you read about them. Ugh. I’m too tired to proofread right now. Boo for grammatical errors and sentences that don’t make sense.
You know what this album is going to be like within the first 3 seconds. (This figure is not an estimation. Seriously. Pause the song at three seconds, and then continue reading and be astonished at how fucking right I am.) It’s a collection of powerful piano driven songs, some ridiculously rock, some ridiculously depressing, and some ridiculously cynical. With a hissing intake of breath, a shout of “GO!” and slamming piano chords, Amanda Palmer of the Dresden Dolls says that much and more. The first track, entitled “Astronaut,” rocks the house with it’s brooding and lamented ode to a lost love (think “Challenger Explosion” and you’ll be on the right track.) But this song also does something important; it shows you her vocal range, which is not to be taken lightly. This chick is a full blown baritone, and sings down in that range often. This song is a great way to get hooked on this fantastic album, so it’s fitting that it’s the first song.
Amanda doesn’t let the energy die, following up with the this-chick-has-hella-issues rapidfire of “Runs In The Family.” It’s a short song, less than three minutes, but you don’t even begin to notice due to the sheer mass of lyrics landing on you eardrums. The song builds until it finally explodes at the last chorus with undeniable catchiness and intensity. After the song ends, there’s a few seconds of silence in which you hear a door open and close. Beware. This is a sign of things to come. Standout track.
“Ampersand” brings it down a little bit with a spurnful look at living in someone’s shadow. You really hear the Ben Folds production/influence in the intro, and then she makes you smile while stilll making you feel slightly sorry for her. The second verse is some of the best songwriting I’ve seen in a while. “The ghetto boys are catcalling me/as I pull my keys from my pocket./I wonder if this method of courtship/has ever been effective./Has any girl in history said/’Sure, you seem so nice, let’s get it on’/Still, I always shock them when I answer/’Hi my name’s Amanda” The bridge of this song might actually one of the best moments on the album, bringing the fire from the first two songs into what would otherwise be a ballad. In light of that, the last two choruses soar and bring the whole song full circle, driving the point home. The final note is held,
and right away the subdued baritone comes in; you can almost hear her sexily raising one of her tattooed eyebrows at you in the beginning jazz of “Leeds United.” [If you don't watch any of the other videos, watch this one. It's truely incredible, and it adds so much to an already great song.] Upon hearing the first notes, I just start smiling about how amazing this song is, because I remember what’s coming next. With lines dripping with cynicism and a tainted world view, like “Who needs love when there’s Law & Order/and who needs love when there’s Southern Comfort/and who needs love at all?” That last phrase is practically screamed, with vocals so powerful that they fuzz out the microphone. This is a perfect example of the kind of staying power that piano rock will always have. When the horns come in, my first thought was, “Of course. That’s the next logical step in this song.” I can’t write any more about this song. I feel like I’ll cheapen it. [Are you okay? Amanda. Amanda, stop. Stop.]
At surface value, “Blake Says” sort of seems like lazy song writing; with a simple melody and easy-to-play piano and lyrics that you think you could have written in five minutes. However, this song is the deffinition of a grower, especially if, like me, you don’t really pay attention to the lyrics the first couple times through. Each verse adds a new layer of sympathy for Blake, as well as a new layer of complexity to the instrumentation; accentuated cymbals, a very noticable second vocal track, etc. You really get into the song at about two and a half minutes in when the howling, haunting, piercing synth and accompanying opera-esque aah’s come in and tell you that this story probably isn’t going to end well. “Blake says it looks like acid rain today.” [Amanda, stop. Stop. Amanda, stop. Listen to me.]
“Strength Through Music” begins with this totally fuckin’ wierd voiceover, that I still don’t get, (talking about turning Iron and Sulfur into Gold,) but once it gets past that weirdness it turns into one of the scariest songs I’ve heard in a while. I don’t know any of the lyrics, other than “Tick tick tick tick tick/Tick tick tick tick tick.” which is whispered between verses. But this song utilizes silence and simplicity to a near perfect effect. I say simplicity, because the same two chords are played over and over, but it doesn’t get boring. Oh no, “Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick Boom.”
“Hey ho, let’s go.” The art of the album is dying, but following the near silence of “Strength Through Music” with the only guitar-driven song on the album, aptly named “Guitar Hero,” is the perfect move. “I could save you baby, but it isn’t worth my time/and I could make you chase me for a little ‘price is right.” She has also mastered the art of switching octaves for damatic effect, and, if you haven’t noticed yet, this album is nothing if not dramatic. This song looks on at the development of an aspiring rock star who achives his dream and then… dies in an explosion? Tell me what you think “is up with this shit.” Amanda certainly puts her pipes to the test in this one, wailing to a completely climactic finish; there’s no coming down from this one.
“Have to Drive” is the prettiest song on the record, remeniscent of “The Luckiest” or possibly even “My Immortal.” You hear the Ben Folds influence in the subtle strings and the almost drowning out of the subdued piano. However, about halfway through, the good old angry Amanda comes in and turns it into a ballad almost like “In The Backseat,” put with so much more pain. The ending brings in a full choir, with swelling strings worthy of an album ender, but she brings it back down with the quietest vocals yet.
She follows that gem up with a lovely little story about domestic abuse, bringing in Annie Clark (aka St. Vincent) for the guest vocals on “What’s the Use of Won’drin.” It sounds like it could have been written and recorded in the 1940′s, the completely vanilla and not country at all version of “Stand By Your Man,” except it’s saying it all ironically. When I first heard this song, I didn’t understand at all why it was on this album along with all these great cuts, but now I’ve figured it out. These songs are all really depressing, and this one’s no different.
In “Oasis,” the narrator gets raped, an abortion, and shunned because her best friend tells everyone she’s a crackwhore. But it’s okay because she gets a signedphotograph of the band Oasis in the mail. Oh, and she’s gonna go see Blur in October. For obvious reasons, many people find this video really offensive, but I think it’s hilarious. This has the most obvious Ben Folds, considering he offers harmony vocals, and those 50′s doo-wop backup vocals he’s so fond of. I just love how you can hear the big giddy smile in her vocals. Fantastic. [A:(indescernable laugh-speaking) B: Sick. A:(laughing) Oh my god. B: So gross... I think we should do that one again. Right? Might as well, good set up. Right?... What is this stuff? Is it real blood? A: No, it's not real blood. B: Aw, bitch! You're incredible, you know that? *Door slam* A: (laughs) That was good.]
“The Point of it All” hovers in the land between ballad and rock song in the realm of thoughtfulness. But, like the rest of the album, it’s pretty damn depressing. With lyrics like “No one can stare at the wall as good as you, my baby doll,” you almost wince at the sort of screwed up brain you don’t thank fate enough for sparing you from. However, it’s the only song on the entire album that doesn’t end soon enough, it’s just not intriguing or changing enough to last for five and a half minutes. As my Uncle Mikki says, “If it’s longer than three and a half minutes, it’s too long anyway.” While I don’t completely agree with this statement, it does apply in certain instances, this being one of them.
“Another Year” starts out like it’s gonna be a slow end to a manic-depressive record, and it doesn’t dissapoint, while becoming slightly less somber and more major-key during the verses, the piano interludes sound like the river of tears is on it’s way. While it never quite achieves soul crushing sadness, this song keeps you listening all the way through, and it swells to a finish worthy of such an emotional album. As it draws you to a close, you have this sort of “What just happened” feeling, and it draws you in to listen to the whole album again. Fuck yeah.
Who Killed Amanda Palmer?
