Well, folks, you can't get much more psychedelic or indie than the Legendary Pink Dots, who have been releasing albums (LPs, CDs, cassettes, box sets, special packages, live concerts, etc.) prolifically—no, make that maniacally—since 1980. And those of you who have known me for a while know that, like other LPD fans, I was into them almost exclusively and obsessively for at least 10 years.
Buzz is now starting to build for Plutonium Blonde, their first record in 2 years ("just a lifetime" in the scheme of the LPDs' release schedule). Pre-release descriptions so far have referred to it as their most commercial-sounding album ever, shocking and delightful, etc., though there hasn't been much in the way of official reviews or samples, even on their newly revamped website or myspace page.
To these reactions I say, in muted disbelief, "Really??"
YOU CAN'T JUDGE [AN ALBUM] BY ITS COVER...
The new millennium so far has seen the Dots mired in a strange, almost dull place between mature songcraft and dad rock, reserving their more experimental sides for Ka-Spel's solo projects and their rarer outtakes and companion albums. Their 2002 album All the King's Horses ranks as my least favorite in their oeuvre, while 2004's The Whispering Wall sounded like a retread of their late '80s work. And though 2006's Your Children Placate You from Premature Graves holds a unique low-key spot amongst their albums, it's not particularly memorable nor exciting, and it holds the proud distinction of having one of their worst titles and worst album covers. So one would think that in 2008, the guys would want to dazzle us with something new—if they can. Thus far, here's what we have:
Now I'll be the first to admit there's something charming about this cover, namely its pastel artwork and the dated look of the woman on the cover. Who is she? Why does she resemble a mother from the late '50s who is likely living a double life as a hotel prostitute? And what does she have to do with apocalypses, premonitions, and poppies?
But on the other hand, it concerns me a bit. The Dots roped me in first and foremost because their music was very exploratory. Most of their songs start in one place and take you somewhere else, whether lyrically or sonically, and I hate to say it but they've been leaving this side of their sound behind for nearly 10 years. In my opinion, 1997's Hallway of the Gods is the last time they broke any ground at all, though the quality and symphonic depth of the two albums to follow obscured what was truly happening.
I get that the band has grown older and that most bands can't stay edgy forever, especially those who are based in technology. What has Brian Eno done of serious interest lately? Which of Richard H. Kirk's side projects expanded upon his initial Sandoz ideas? I mean, Kraftwerk didn't release any truly new material between 1986 and 2003; when they finally did, it was a record based on a 20-year-old song.
But the Dots seemed different. Their ability to do their thing while continuing to function outside of the flux of whatever scene they were orbiting always made them strangely relevant—and their live shows are still, for lack of a better term, legendary. Whether traversing the halls of New Romantic synth-pop, descending into the goth ghetto, or aspiring to some sort of high-brow free-jazz mutation revered by graduate students and stoners, the Dots were always interesting and surprising.
Until they weren't.
BLONDE BOMBSHELL
As a disgruntled fan with lowered expectations, I suppose this is where I express my needs for a new Legendary Pink Dots album. Does it truly need to blow me out of the water? Stun me with its kaleidoscopic depth? Lull me into a blissful coma? Scare me?
Yes.
Well, no. All I really want is an album that Edward hasn't written for either his introverted girlfriend or his children. From here we'll watch the world go by and I'll report back once I've absorbed the damn thing.
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