The Dresden Dolls - No, Virginia

When I think of a proper B-sides collection, I’m thinking bizarre shit. Shit that doesn’t fit on a “real” album. Shit that doesn’t even sound like the band that played it. Shit we don’t even get to hear anymore, not since “the single” became a term we use literally.
Where does all the weird shit go? Bands must still write them. I can’t remember the last time one of my favorite bands released a B-sides collection. Maybe Nirvana’s Incesticide? That was some weird shit. Sloppy, disjointed, and loud. I loved it, and it really cemented what a proper B-sides album was in my head.
No, Virginia by The Dresden Dolls is not a proper B-sides album. The title itself, an offshoot of their 2006 album Yes, Virginia, suggests B-sideness. All the press leading up to the album’s release called it a B-sides collection. But if you were to listen to this album without knowing its history in advance, you’d think you were listening to Dresden Dolls studio album #3. It’s got great production values, seamless sequencing, and polish all the way through.
I’d say that’s both a good and bad thing. One of the things I love most about The Dresden Dolls’ first album was how sloppy and out-of-control it sounded. In fact, their first album sounded more like a proper B-sides collection. I’d wager that it actually takes more control to sound like you have none at all and still do it well, and that approach was perfect for the Dolls’ sound.
Don’t get me wrong. I never want a band to release the same album over and over. But when a band does change, I’d prefer they turn the creative control dial up, not down. A number of the tracks (see first single Night Reconaissance; video at the end of the review) bear a heavy Ben Folds influence—and I like Ben Folds—but it means that out-of-control punk influence is dying off over time.
Two tracks really caught my attention toward the center of the album. The first was The Gardener, a slow, minimalist track that builds from a simple repeated drumbeat and bassline to an echoing crescendo as Amanda Palmer chants, “The Gardener’s coming to collect.” The second was the bizarrely titled Lonesome Organist Rapes Page-Turner, which captures perfectly the chaotic tone that I miss so much about the first album. Palmer’s voice cracks, shrieks, and swings from uncomfortably low growls to high-pitched squeals. Her voice, the piano, and drummer Brian Viglione’s beat spend the entire song fighting for attention. It doesn’t really bring anything new to the Dolls’ catalogue, but damn, it sounds great.
From that point on, the album veers back into Ben Folds territory. It’s a solid album all the way through, but not terribly noteworthy from a career-growth standpoint. The album closes with Boston, a song which tries really hard to replicate Truce, the song that wrapped up their debut album. It almost succeeds, but it only in writing the same song over again.
I spent a week listening to this album over and over, trying to decide what I thought about it, and finally came to the realization that as intensely as I’ve listened, if I still haven’t formed an opinion, it can’t be that thought-provoking. The Dresden Dolls are at their best when pushing buttons and gender boundaries, and when going full-out nuts on the two instruments they play. They’re great musicians, Amanda writes very funny and clever lyrics, and they generally do an excellent job of walking the line between gloom and humor, but if they don’t start doing something new, they’ll fade away as a gimmick. They’re a better band than that—I just hope they realize it.The new video for Night Reconaissance