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Artist: The Dalloways
Album: Penalty Crusade
Publication: Outside Left
Category: Review
Writer: Alex V. Cook
Date: 09/07/2005
Website: http://www.outsideleft.com/
Review Link: http://www.outsideleft.com/main.php?updateID=376
JUMPING FROM THE TOP OF THE FERRIS WHEEL AGAIN
I've said it before and
apparently I shall drive the point home yet another time. I am a sucker for
dreamy swoony chimey guitar pop. I have a pickup power trio I jam with every
once in a while, but this weekend Bass Stallion (as we like to call him. Because
of his long flowing locks we initially dubbed him "My Little Pony" until he
finally succumbed to our coaxing to buy a bass, and lo, after never picking one
up before then, is a natural and actually the foundation of our sound, as it is)
brought one of his roommates along, who unlike me, actually plays guitar in a
conventionally "good" sense, so I got relegated to rhythm/atmosphere and set my
controls on the heart of the swoon and had a ball. Something about that chimey
jangle that was the stock in trade of the late-80's alternative rock thang that
still gets me. Its not something that you can really get your entomology around.
Its not in the Caveman-on-a-log -> Chuck Berry -> The Stooges -> Guns 'N Roses
-> Blink 182 rock standard, it has its filigreed roots in a shallower water,
like a cross between atmospheric wank of prog rock pastorale and post-punk walls
of dissonance. Whatever it is, I love it.
The latest group to get my swoon on is The Dalloways, a pack of Smiths/Dream
Syndicate revisionists from The San Joaquin Valley of California. I will only
mention The OC once in this review, but c'mon y'all. Give these homeboys a shot
in penance for putting Rooney on the map. From the opening organ buzz of
"Clarissa, Dear" you get a feel from which facet of the Prism of Melancholy the
ray of sunshine that is Penalty Crusade is emanating. Lead singer Gerhard Enns
has a totally engaging yet decidedly, well, weird, voice. Its almost like he's
singing through his nose, but I think its just that he sounds that way. Two
songs into it, I'm sold, reminding me of the first time I heard Meat is Murder
on my friend Scott's car stereo. I though the Moz sounded like a freaking
suicidal muppet on "The Headmaster Ritual" yet was saturated to bliss when "What
She Said" came around. Once the title track of this record spins around 5 songs.
His voice is so singular, I don't want to hear anyone else for a while. The
lyrics flow and splash on my mental shore like the gentle swirl of the music.
Some other highlights are the sweet keys and strum of "Given Everything" that
feels as if you are circling Central Park in movie NYC, watching leaves fall as
your lover hesitates at at the gate at La Guardia, looking back once more before
flying off to Paris. Its not what the song is about exactly, but that same
evocation occurs. "Lot's Younger Daughter" has really stunning production where
the bass groove, twinkly twang of the guitar and drum shuffle swing around arm
in arm until they all fall down. Are you getting the cinematic feel of this
thing? They could play this album and then just film Hugh Grant and Juliette
Lewis stumble around a cluttered London loft for an hour and make a much better
movie than "Love Actually." But then, how could you not. A film of an anthill
with a Motorhead soundtrack would be more engaging (hmmm.... where's my video
camera...)
"How Can I Explain?" drives home the classic Smiths comparison, with the switch
between sweep and stomp and the harmonized questioning and wordiness, its all
good. I mean, who makes rhymes like "Tribulation" with "Condensation on the
glass we just had / of the bitter truth" anymore. And when he sputters "Go to
hell" in the languid "Elected to Tell You" it brings it all rushing back. Were I
still the melodramatic youth I once was, I'd suggest basking in the muted
trumpet line of this song while lying on the floor of your bedroom, but that's
not really me anymore. Plus they'd look at me funny at the office. Not like they
don't already, those pathetic conformist fuckers,....oh what the hell (gets on
floor) In short, get this record and give these lonely hearts some space on your
CD rack. You won't want to work out to it or anything, but it will give your
heartstrings a well-needed strum.
Alex V. Cook, Music Editor