Skip to Content, Navigation, or Footer.
We inform. You decide.
Thursday, May 02, 2024

In terms of sheer size, the only thing larger than "…Earth to the Dandy Warhols…" is Courtney Taylor-Taylor's massive ego. It would be irresponsible to credit the growth of said persona to past experience this kind of megalomania you're born with but those once-coveted Seth Cohen playlist adds and the exposure in 1960s revivalist doc Dig! couldn't have helped matters. Having since mistaken Sundance for the Academy and obscurity for fame, Taylor and his Dandy band shed the limitations of their modest guitar rock orientation, and with this latest paralysis-inducing, hour-plus space jam, permanently shoot to hell any lingering pop flirtations in favor of misfired trance drones, none of which will be featured in a K-Swiss commercial. "Earth" is the kind of brazen kiss off you'd expect from a man with two last names.

Each song sends a by now familiar message: Dandys rule, OK? Too bad there's no substance to back up the eye-liner bravado. This is what it sounds like to walk into a gunfight with a .44 Magnum and no bullets - lots of flash, no bang.

Correction: one bang, should you count your iPod colliding with the floor during the fourteenth minute of "Musee D'Nougat." It's the anti- "Sister Ray," an extended suite of insipid buzzing topped off by some guy going on about egg whites and caramel. Seriously. You can't make this stuff up.

In infinite Dandy wisdom, the group decided to echo the last seconds of the monolithic waste of tape during the introduction to opener "The World the People Together (Come On)," making it possible to play the record repeatedly without a noticeable gap.

Once is enough.

Taylor's hash 'n crash lyrical shtick doesn't exactly command code-cracking playbacks. The Dandys smoke. We get it. Still, our ironed-haired hipsters rattle off a salvo of wink, wink in-jokes about sex, drugs…and drugs, Odditorium style. Remove four letters from seven-minute stoner anthem "Valerie Yum" to get the Dandys' favorite recreational chemical! The chorus shouts, "I just don't care no more." Makes two of us.

This kind of barefaced disinterest might come as a letdown for those blissfully ignorant to the band's fantasy land. After all, the title hints at a rare run-in with reality. For the few of us who know better, "Earth's" self-delusional grandeur just begs the obvious question. What planet are these guys on?

Support your local paper
Donate Today
The Independent Florida Alligator has been independent of the university since 1971, your donation today could help #SaveStudentNewsrooms. Please consider giving today.

Powered by SNworks Solutions by The State News
All Content © 2024 The Independent Florida Alligator and Campus Communications, Inc.