Three years ago, Brody Dalle tagged and bagged The Distillers. While the outfit certainly brought her to the fore of the music scene and introduced the planet to a cast-iron frontwoman with enough punk attitude and raw appeal to sink an armada of doe-eyed hopefuls, there was something wanting in the overall scheme of things and Dalle moved on to new ambitions and new scenes.
Enter Spinnerette, the ultimate venture for Dalle’s artistic impulses. Of course, along the way to her latest outlet, Dalle has appeared on a select few Eagles of Death Metal records alongside her husband Josh Homme and demonstrated that her facility to rock was still in attendance.
Dalle actually announced plans for Spinnerette in 2007, collecting the services of former Distiller Tony Bevilacqua, former Pearl Jammer Jack Irons and Eagle of Death Metaller Alain Johannes for the project.
After the release of the Ghetto Love EP in late 2008, Spinnerette’s self-titled is finally upon us.
Infused with a whole lot of throwback fuzz and straightforward rock swagger, Spinnerette is an album that would sound at home in the same '90s zone inhabited by the likes of Garbage. The disposition is defiantly purposeful, complete with entertaining pop-rawk excursions and Dalle’s snarling, sexy tones. A bit of pulsating haze a la Queens of the Stone Age is tossed in for good measure.
“Ghetto Love” cracks open the record like the oversized doors of a Los Angeles mansion opening up for a heroin-infused party complete with swimming pools, hookers and overdoses. Dalle sings something about “whores of the ego” while Johannes handles a fresh guitar riff with steely precision.
“All Babes Are Wolves” carries a sweet pop hook driven home by an importance that could be about drugs or sex or both. “Oh babe, I would die for you,” Dalle offers before driving the car off the cliff.
Spinnerette works not because Dalle attempts to wring more fluid from The Distillers’ tree but because she heads in an entirely different direction. This is Hollywood shit, porno studio shit, backseat sex shit — and it works because she knows it. Dalle couldn’t give three wooden fucks about the arrogant Pitchforks of the world and Spinnerette gives her a boulevard down which to drive without brakes.
“Driving Song” is perhaps the perfect example of Dalle getting her shit to work just like she wants it. Almost demure, she emerges on the track like a sunlit rock star. There’s a “seen-it-all” aspect to her liberation of lines like “It’s too late for me,” showcasing a glassy sensibility that few could duplicate.
Like an inconsolable starlet, Dalle covers everything with bittersweet polish.
Spinnerette is an album for those late night drives back to reality and for those mornings where the haze clears memories of last night’s conquests and betrayals. Dalle knows her game and knows it well, making her the perfect tour guide for what becomes a sad and softly tragic piece of full musical disclosure.Powered by Sidelines