Brechtian punk cabaret

I discovered The Arcade Fire quite some time ago – I don’t mean “discovered” as in heard them in some student venue, became their manager and rocketed them to fame, I mean that their music was in my collection when they were still obscure. Since then, they have won awards, been nominated for Brits and Grammys, played at Fashion Rocks and had their music wallpapered over many a TV trailer; essentially, they have enjoyed mainstream success.

When you like music by somebody obscure, all you want to do is tell people about it and stand open-mouthed in astonishment at a world which hasn’t acknowledged the thing that you love. But when the world decides to embrace it, suddenly it feels as though you’re sharing something that was really rather personal. And so it is that I’ve found myself explaining on several occasions that, yes, I like The Arcade Fire, and in fact I liked them before anyone else so there – just so that people don’t think I’m the type of person to follow the crowd.

For which reason I am declaring now, at this point, while nobody can take it away from me, that I have fallen absolutely in love with The Dresden Dolls. I bought their debut album yesterday and it blew me away – it’s awesome and terrifying and brilliant. Oh, and I have tickets to see them in a few weeks time, at a relatively tiny venue.

In their case, I suspect massive commercial success is extremely unlikely – The Dresden Dolls’ brand of – ahem – “Brechtian punk cabaret” (to borrow one description of music that doesn’t really want to be categorized) doesn’t exactly scream “mainstream”. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

But do visit their website – not many bands post their hate mail on the internet, and it makes for extremely entertaining reading.

And just so you know – I was there first.

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