The first song from A Mouthful, called "Playground Hustle", shows that Olivia Merilahti is as cool a babysittter as M.I.A. was on Kala's "Mango Pickle Down River". Over a militaristic drum-and-flute backdrop, a gang of schoolkids draw some battle lines between themselves and their more mature counterparts. Avowing that "we are not afraid of you grown-ups," the girls demand access to hammers, while the boys promise to "talk to the king of this kingdom, if you don't let us play with dolls." Then Merilahti comes in, her own voice betraying both the naive lilt of a little girl and a bit of the coarseness of someone a bit older-- or maybe just another kid who's been yelling too much.
A group of children wise enough (or maybe just fed the appropriate knowledge), to demand upended gender norms, "Hustle" is the perfect prologue for the Dø's debut, A Mouthful, an album that tries to balance the immature and the grown-up. The Paris-based duo of Finnish expat Merilahti and French multi-instrumentalist Dan Levy pronounce their name "doe," a reference to the alpha and omega of the musical scale, which they interpret as a license to incorporate "what's new and what's old," with "the latitude & longitude to re-invigorate any musical genre." It's their first stab at an LP, and it's not surprising that their youthful capriciousness amazes as often as it goes astray. The two aren't shy about toying with musical categories, but it's Mouthful's wide register of emotions-- a fine actress, Merilahti does playful, frustrated, coy, fearful and romantic very well-- which compensates for the less-than-advisable inclusions, and the record is as ambitious and fun as any coming-out party in recent memory.
In his review last month of Wye Oak's debut With Children, Mike Powell wrote: "Their sound-- earnest folk-influenced indie rock with touches of noise and dream-pop-- is so second-nature that nobody realizes it's actually endangered." When the Dø hit their stride on A Mouthful, they channel that same potent naiveté, with Merilahti's voice as the key ingredient. Bearing a confidence and delicacy recalling Liz Phair, Mary Timony, and especially Frente's Angie Hart, Merilahti's girlish growl nestles within the gray tones of post-shoegaze 1990s rock.
To this end, Merilahti revels in lyrical contradictions, pushing her beau away forcefully with one hand while keeping a handful of his shirt in the other. In "On My Shoulders", she does Sisyphean work amidst swelling strings and smears of feedback, regretting her loveless labor while promising to keep at it. When she sings "next time, I'll try it another way," her voice tears just enough to reveal her pain and passion-- to what end, we don't find out. On "The Bridge Is Broken" her raspy melisma is endorsed by the backmasked guitars, shakers, and handclaps, creating a lush sense of romantic resignation, and a slight bit of distortion winds its way under the otherwise pristine ballad "At Last!", emphasizing the forlorn melody of the album's best song. Thrilled enough at finding love to walk on air for 92 hours, Merilahti stops short of gloating to her friends: "I won't say no more, I won't make it harder on you girls." It's rare to find a good pop song in which the singer confronts, then stops short of succumbing to pleasure. Girl groups, Lesley Gore, and Smokey Robinson come to mind. Sleater-Kinney, too.
Merilahti's emotional antagonism comes full-force on "Stay (Just a Little Bit More)", in which she confronts her two-faced paramour-- she's "young, but believes in no tales"-- before getting scared and luring him back to bed. The song, a faithful take on Lily Allen's brand of scatological ska-pop, is the strongest evidence of the Dø's penchant for generic interpretation and cross-pollination. Elsewhere, a couple dramatic ballads ("Song for Lovers" and "Searching Gold"), overstay their welcome a bit, but two worldbeat bangers ("Tammie" and the Finnish-language "Unissasi Laulelet") more than make up for it. There's even an appearance from that other endangered early 90s relic, the goofy pop-rap one-off: "Queen Dot Kong" would have made a swell B-side, but bundled on the LP it juts out awkwardly. Within A Mouthful's over-swelled 69-minute (!) runtime is a wonderful 48-minute album; the excess material isn't unlistenable by any stretch, but it does suggest the need for a bit more quality control. It will require Merilahti and Levy to re-prioritize how they use their youthful exuberance-- from all-inclusive tracklists to more wonderful songs like "At Last!" and "On My Shoulders". It's a bit paternal-sounding, I know. For the time being, then, let's let them have fun.
