As the premier alt-goth Weimar cabaret rock duo, the Dresden Dolls have a lot working in their favor-- foremost a virtual lock on the alt-goth Weimar cabaret rock duo market. Duty-bound to fly that particularly lonely flag, the group's tour schedule has been relentless, its theatrical flourishes exhausting. Yet even though the Dolls paint from a deceptively diverse pallet, it's not surprising that Amanda Palmer, the group's focus and primary creative force, should start to maybe feel a little stifled and set out on her own, at least for the time being.
Certainly Palmer and drummer Brian Viglione could have released whatever they wanted and called it the Dresden Dolls. The fact that Palmer didn't suggests she recognized a certain stylistic sanctity to the Dolls sound. To that end, Who Killed Amanda Palmer began as a solo outing in the truest sense, with just Palmer and her piano at the fore and the recording process itself fast and unfussy. Then fan, friend, and fellow piano-pounder Ben Folds entered the picture as producer and general jack-of-all-trades, and quickly the project and Palmer's musical purview expanded.
On opener "Astronaut" it's easy to hear how it might have begun as just Palmer alone before a bevy of embellishments pushed it toward the borderline symphonic. The song's dynamic, dramatic, and every bit as hyper-stylized as the Dresden Dolls, and hooky as hell despite the clutter of the arrangement, which offers grunts, guitars, synths, and tons of vocal ticks among its tricks. The breathless "Runs in the Family" follows a similar tack as Palmer goes, literally, nuts: "Me? Well, I'm well. Well, I mean I'm in hell. Well, I still have my health (at least that's what they tell me)," she sings as she rushes through a litany of lyrical lunacy.
With "Ampersand", we finally hit a track that might have been out of place on a Dolls disc, just Palmer and her piano (plus some strings, arranged by the legendary Paul Buckmaster) playing a ballad. "I'm not gonna live my life on one side of an ampersand," she sings, "And even if I went with you, I'm not the girl you think I am." While it seems Who Killed Amanda Palmer sets out to tell a story (it's even divided into two acts), and the song itself could work as a rallying cry of independence from within any smothering relationship, the confession could also serve as a sign of frustration at being stuck with the Dolls.
In truth Who Killed Amanda Palmer spans a decade of songwriting, and by "Leeds United" the disc has revealed itself as a broad collection of rich character studies born of Palmer's lyrical acuity, likely laced with personal touches that nudge some of the material toward the at least loosely autobiographical. In the track, blasts of horn (courtesy the awesomely named Born Again Horny Men of Edinburgh) punctuate Palmer's own hoarse, histrionic shouts as her protagonist drowns herself in booze, pop culture, and shopping. In the somber "Blake Says", the titular Blake (following in the footsteps of Lou Reed muses Stephanie and Caroline) struggles with depression and loneliness, ultimately choosing isolation (and maybe death?) rather than bear the weight of the world. Similar themes course through the school-shooting chronicle "Strength Through Music" (reportedly written after Columbine but recorded the week of the Virginia Tech shooting) and "Guitar Hero" (which features the Dead Kennedys' East Bay Ray in a tale of someone choosing fantasy over reality), a return to rambunctious, theatrical rock. The subtly apocalyptic "Have to Drive" is about that most primordial of rock themes, escape (replete with operatic men's choir, and delivered with particularly literary bent).
"What's the Use of Wond'rin'?" (from Rodgers and Hammerstein's "Carousel", and featuring St. Vincent's Annie Clark) underscores that musical's creepy undercurrent of submission and supernatural sublimation, and therefore fits right in. Too bad its creepy power is undercut by the blithe, bubblegum, mostly obnoxious "Oasis", a rape and abortion ditty-- ha!-- that gives irony a bad name. (In her defense, Palmer once considered the track "too silly," but Folds convinced her to include it-- he should have known better, since his own abortion hit "Brick" was a lot more effective and affecting.)
Fortunately it's followed by another powerful, riveting portrait, "The Point of It All", which once again emphasizes Palmer's strengths as a lyricist, while "Another Year", with its distant echoes of "Nightswimming", manages to be a touching song of unrequited love and to namedrop Bill Hicks. Both of these tracks emphasize why Palmer may have wanted to go it alone. It's not that they would have been lost in the Dresden Dolls, but casting them in a separate spotlight does make them easier to locate, and maybe find new listeners as well.
