Amanda Palmer
Amanda Palmer Performs the Popular Hits of Radiohead on Her Magical Ukulele
(8ft)
Once upon a time it was common practice for rock and soul artists to cover contemporary songs. Acts like Vanilla Fudge and Three Dog Night performed more covers than originals on many of their albums. However, since the mid-70s, this trend has dissipated significantly. Yet while you don't hear eight bands covering say "Drunk Girls," a slight vestige of the bygone cover-happy era is with us in the form of countless Radiohead covers. From jazz pianist Brad Mehldau's Radiohead interpretations to the Easy-Star All-Star’s reggae/dub version of OK Computer, Radiodread, the quantity of Radiohead covers in the past 10 years is immense. Now Dresden Dolls front-woman Amanda Palmer has released an EP dedicated solely to Radiohead tunes played on the ukulele. Fortunately the album overcomes the sheer quirkiness of the concept. However, despite a few inspired readings, Amanda Palmer Performs the Popular Hits of Radiohead on Her Magical Ukulele suffers from a muddled point-of-view. Quite simply, it is a bit unclear why this album exists.
With the exception of "Creep" and "Idioteque," Palmer sticks to the gentle side of Radiohead with tracks like "Fake Plastic Trees" and "Exit Music (For A Film)." Palmer's arrangements are quite stark, ranging from just ukulele on "Creep" to piano, ukulele, multi-tracked vocals and even a few bars of percussion on “Idioteque.” In between, Palmer relies mostly on ukulele and piano. The stripped arrangements allow Palmer's emotive voice to drive the songs. Palmer employs a cabaret vocal style, the theatrics of which she manages to mostly reel in and out as the song dictates. On “Exit Music (For a Film),” a lone piano is pushed forth by the gradual build of Palmer’s impressive lung capacity. Cello and violin mirror Palmer’s intensity aptly. “No Surprises” is more restrained, with Palmer’s own backing vocals anchoring the song’s emotional core. “Idioteque” uses layered vocals to even better effect. Palmer’s ukulele playing on “Idioteque” is also commendable, as her below-the-bridge strumming serves as an interesting juxtaposition to Radiohead’s beat-drenched original.
Had Palmer stuck to a five-track EP, she would’ve had an intriguing, albeit minor, mini-album on her hands. However, the decision to include two separate live versions of “Creep” ultimately undermines the project. Beyond breaking up the flow of the album, Palmer’s readings of “Creep” are far less inspired than the other songs here. Ironically, although Palmer’s only accompaniment on both versions of “Creep” is her ukulele, these versions feel the most forced and melodramatic of the bunch. On the first “Creep,” subtitled “Hungover at Soundcheck in Berlin," Palmer deflates all the mood created by “Idioteque” with some cutesy banter to her sound-team. The second “Creep” is much more off-putting, with audience applause and a sing-along coda that reeks of all the wrong type of camp. Palmer manages to belt out a few impressive notes, especially in the second version, but that is little compensation for a forced performance.
To be fair, the second version of “Creep” is a digital-only bonus track. But the reality is that more people will probably hear the digital version than the physical version. Thus, we must not ignore that 2/7 of the most readily available version of the album is both aesthetically out-of-step with and noticeably weaker than the rest of the album. That said, the other five tracks are certainly worth a listen despite their somewhat slight nature. |
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