Album Review


Former Pitchforker Eric Carr, while reviewing the Distillers' Coral Fang, called singer Brody Dalle "an impassioned, powerful frontwoman, the legitimate heart of her band, and probably the most dominating female presence-at-large (read: receiving M2 rotation) in rock right now." Good times. Too bad they didn't last very long. A few years after the release of that major-label debut, the Distillers disbanded, and Dalle spent the ensuing years popping up as a guest on her husband Josh Homme's albums with Queens of the Stone Age and Eagles of Death Metal. She announced a new outfit back in 2007, and it sounded promising: Comprised of fellow former Distiller Tony Bevilacqua, Eagle of Death Metal Alain Johannes, and ex-Pearl Jam drummer Jack Irons, the new group would expand Dalle's vocal and lyrical range while mixing electric elements with familiar live punk sounds. She even negotiated her way out of her Sire contract and signed with Toronto-based Anthem Entertainment.

As the rest of the world moved forward in time, the members of Spinnerette have somehow moved backwards. Grafting programmed and live beats onto processed guitars and filtered vocals, their self-titled debut might have sounded edgy back in 1995, but in the here and now, it just sounds curiously redundant. This is MTV Buzz Bin nostalgia: Spinnerette could be playing the Bronze (great show, crap music) or sharing a bill with Poe and Tracy Bonham. Opener "Ghetto Love" and "Distorting a Code" are Garbage without the empowering perversions, and Dalle too often sounds like any old post-Courtney howler rather than the woman who breathed fire on "Drain the Blood". Even the album cover recalls the Black Crowes' Amorica after some airbrushing and a trip to Hot Topic.

Genre dumpster-diving of this type is not a bad thing in and of itself, and could be an interesting counterpoint to recent Ian Curtis disinterment or the Springsteen revival, which skew heavily masculine, but it's impossible to discern how self-aware Dalle and the band are in this backwards-looking undertaking. Is it a conscious throwback to and possibly a statement about a different time and style? Or is this their idea of forward-thinking hard rock circa 2010? If the latter, then it's simply a misguided project that will fall beneath the pop-culture radar before the promotional cycle has run its course.

The hidden track and what sounds like pre-Limp Bizkit turntable scratching, however, suggest the nostalgic aspect of Spinnerette is intentional. If so, the obvious questions arise: Why this revival? And why now? The album doesn't argue very persuasively for the source material, mistaking slick clangor for gritty production, half-assed hooks for big choruses, and blunt innuendo for authority. So, removed from that decade and placed in this one, Spinnerette sounds a bit sheepish. "Ghetto Love" sounds like CSS covering "My Sharona", but it's not nearly as exciting as that description might sound. "Rebellious Palpitations" and "Sex Bomb" come off like Eagles of Death Metal without the hip-shake swagger, trashy fun, or knowing wink, and closer "A Prescription for Mankind" aims for rock grandiosity but ODs on squealing guitars, layered vocals, and lugubrious rock ponderings.

Still, Dalle may yet manage to come out the other side unscathed by Spinnerette. She writes decent hooks on "All Babes Are Wolves" and the relatively sunny "Baptized by Fire", and on "The Walking Dead" she conveys a vulnerability that contrasts compellingly with her tougher sandpaper vocals-- at least until she sings, "Hello psycho, is that you in the mirror again?" She shows greater range than expected, but the clatter of Johannes' busy production too often obscures her charisma and renders her odd punk melodies sadly lifeless. She's better than this perplexing project.

Stephen M. Deusner, June 24, 2009


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