I’m not one of those people who scramble to follow the latest musical trend. In fact, I’m so hypersensitive to overexposure that I’ll turn snarling two minutes after an artist, or group of them, become soundbytes on corporate commercial conformist media outlets. Not to say I instantly dislike something because it has mainstream appeal, just that I make my own decisions (and avoid the mindless hoards like Christina Aguilera avoids food.) The Dandy Warhols is one of those bands that is getting a ‘buzz’. You know what I’m saying - the media is beginning to twitter, the ‘it’ publications are scrambling for feature articles - so naturally I was motivated for a preview.

The publicity photo, while communicating the appropriate air of see-how-cool-we-are-wearing-retro-rock-tees detachment and the intense I-know-you-want-to-fuck-me gaze of lead singer Courtney Taylor-Taylor who sets himself apart with an alteration of hand positioning, I was struck by two details. One: Zia McCabe is wearing an oversized belt buckle that reads “DICK” and two: they’re standing in front a nuclear reactor! Now THAT, my friends, is rock n roll.

My next thrill was discovering Welcome To the Monkey House was co-produced by Nick Rhodes, and vocals were contributed by Simon LeBon, both of 80's hearthrobs Duran Duran. DD single-handedly instigated my long-term love affair with music, not to mention musicians. Diminish them as you see fit, but their influence on music videos is unparalleled, and they reminded the world that girls whipping themselves into a frenzy didn’t end when Elvis or John Lennon died. As I said, I make my own decisions, and I offer no apology.

The opening title track seems to echo this sentiment with the lyric “When Michael Jackson dies / We’re covering Blackbird / And won’t it be absurd then / When no one knows what song they just heard / Unless someone on the radio tells them first”. Clocking in at a smidge over one minute, it quickly launches into the synth-funky radio-friendly “We Used to Be Friends”, which morphs into a deeper, breathier chant-like “Plan A”, torturing me with Simon LeBon’s howling wind verses. Elsewhere on the CD, “You Were the Last High” and “Heavenly” practically ooze with ambivalence and loneliness.

Many of these songs take the dance rhythms of late disco and new wave styles and turn them on their ear. They also take simple sentiments, repetitive and sparse lyrics and layer them over catchy grooves, creating a flash frame of behavior and emotional backlog. “I Am Over It” says the narrator is anything but while “Insincere Because” depicts a tortured lover steeling himself with substances to instigate a breakup, all in a matter of two lines and slow spacey harmonies (“Dream Weaver” anyone?). “The Scientist”, meanwhile, immediately brought to mind Duran Duran’s “All She Wants Is”, while the lyrical style said Oingo Boingo and “Hit Rock Bottom” is a direct descendent of Love and Rockets’ “I’m Alive”. Finally, established lyrically as the subject of the song, “The Dope” could also refer to the narrator’s failure to consummate with the object of his affection. “Take heart because you’re art, and you’re loved” speaks of an awed adoration and wonderment, accompanied by a drum track and higher end vocals.

Unfortunately, because the RIAA has their head lodged up their collective ass and panics like the famed Chicken Little at any sign of new technology, Welcome to the Monkey House is “copy controlled” - whatever the fuck that means. So I conducted a surface check of my friendly neighborhood P2P network and found nine of the album’s thirteen tracks available for download. One of the descriptions even said “Fuck the RIAA”.

Uh-huh. Guess I should just be happy the album spared me the unavoidable and highly irritating audio stamp found on Type O Negative and Chimaira.

The Dandy Warhols