The Dresden Dolls

Gothed-out drummer, bassist and guitarist Brian Viglione and keyboard-playing, song-writing chanteuse Amanda Palmer have devised quite a little art project with The Dresden Dolls. By saddling themselves with a band name that evokes both the fragile beauty of its delicate porcelain namesake and the city that was bombed into a firestorm-ravaged hellhole as immortalized by Kurt Vonnegut in Slaughterhouse-Five, the Dolls have set themselves quite a task. The fruit of their efforts is undeniably interesting, when viewed as an artifact of the current zeitgeist, but not particularly riveting or even memorable despite its bombast. This is music designed for private listening; even if you share it with someone, the emotional content is more likely to invoke an introverted silence than a conversation. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. And for solitary, insomnia-racked, piano-loving listeners, Viglione and Palmer do provide a rich musical bed on which to indulge nocturnal discontent with the human condition. The closing track, “Sing,” is genuinely beautiful and heartfelt, well worth the 99 cents you can get it for on iTunes.