Graded on a Curve:
The Dwarves,
The Dwarves Concept Album

The Dwarves are vicious and depraved. Vile and obscene. Bad people of low morals who make the kind of music your mother will scream at you to turn off from her grave (that’s how loud and horrible it is). Since 1985 or thereabouts the band that originated in Chicago (hog-butchering capital of the world!) have been offending all decent and right-minded people with ear-cuffing noise rock, live shows that would make Caligula proud, and albums whose covers have featured blood-spattered nudes and borne hilarious titles along the lines of The Dwarves Are Young and Good Looking.

You would have thought that at some point during their thirty-eight years of existence somebody would have put a stop to their degenerate antics. Put them down or something. But The Dwarves, god bless them, can’t be stopped. They may not be, as they boast, “the last punk band,” but they’ve long been one of the greatest, and odds are they’ll make good on their boast still be playing before audiences of cockroaches when the world’s nothing but a smoldering pile of toxic debris.

Over the long course of their existence The Dwarves (who now call San Francisco home) have expanded their sound—amazingly so if one looks back to the brutalist neo-hardcore noise of, say, 1990’s Blood, Guts & Pussy. Back then they reminded me a lot of Cows, the greatest noise rock band of them all. Nowadays—and that most definitely includes their latest LP, 2023’s The Dwarves Concept Album—they dip their collective toe into a variety of genres, and have begun to, and I didn’t see this one coming, actually play nice. Some of the tracks on The Dwarves Concept Album make me think The Dwarves have been listening to The Archies or something. Ear damage purists will be shocked, but I think it’s cute. I even hear a Farfisa organ on a few songs. The Age of Miracles is still with us!

I don’t know what the “concept” in The Dwarves Concept Album is, and I’m not about to break my neck finding out. But if I had to impose a concept of my own on it, and why not, it would run along the lines of The Dwarves Get Happy or The Dwarves Are Absolutely Normal, and I can’t think of a more radical concept than that. But there’s no denying that on some, although hardly all, of these songs vocalist Blag Dahlia sounds happy and frighteningly well-adjusted.

And they’re happy songs, I’ve made damn sure of that. Upbeat. Poppy. It’s terrifying. Don’t get me wrong—The Dwarves still specialize in earache. This is reassuring to noise fetishists such as myself. But The Dwarves Concept Album proves that Dahlia, guitarist HeWhoCannotBeNamed and company are well-rounded and open-minded individuals with eclectic record collections, and if the album cover (which features a cheesecake nude seated amongst stacks of books) is any indication they’re probably well-read too. Shocking, it is. Could it be that The Dwarves have been happy-go-lucky normal guys all along?

They open the album with “Blast On,” which has Dahlia counting down in a math only he understands (“10! 9! 8! 4! 6!, etc.”). They then segue into the flabbergastingly happy-making slice of retro-bubblegum that is “Feeling Great.” Dahlia sounds like the most normal soul in show business, the melody is sixties infectious, and the organ is cool, as are the backing vocals. It’s a shock and a revelation—boy do these perverts clean up good.

They follow “Feeling Great” with the hard-hitting thrasher “Voodoo,” which is catchier than you’d expect, and then explode into “Terrorist,” which features a savage guitar riff and barked vocals and is as clamorous as can be, although its surprisingly melodic break may shock you. “Ages Ago” is more sonic boom punk, but it sounds a bit formulaic, which can’t be said for the sorta-duet “Dead to Me,” which takes us back in time to the days of Farfisa organs, tambourines, snaky guitar riffs, mad drum rolls, and girls dancing in go-go cages. It’s a real badass sing-along—wish I knew who Dahlia’s female singing partner is, but I’ve searched high and low and no luck.

“Do It All the Time” is a syncopated, big-bottomed, repetitive dance track, although The Dwarves might heave at the term. It has a Middle Eastern vibe, and you’ll want to do the snake dance to it. “Nobody and Me” boasts razor-sharp guitars and a big sound, but it’s surprisingly melodic, almost bouncy. As is follow-up “Everybody Squirts,” which features the big sing-along lines “Everybody, needs somebody,” which alternate with Dahlia’s barked lyrics. This one’s as catchy as the next plague—hell, for all I know, it is the next plague. It’s yet more proof that the Dwarves can do anything, including playing nice while being lewd and obscene.

“Kill or Be Killed” is a ferocious hardcore assault with metallic tendencies, but it’s a bit generic for my tastes. The Dwarves almost seem to be going through the motions, and the reason, I suspect, is what they really wanna be is girls who just wanna have fun, an itch they scratch on pop-fortified numbers like follow-up “Roxette,” which could be by The Knack for Christ’s sake. It’s a cheery number that will make you think the clock has moved back, and is that a synthesizer I hear in there? It’s enough to make you believe anything’s possible, this one, including being stabbed to death by a unicorn. “

You Lose We Win” is pure hardcore boast—”Yeah you know you love The Dwarves” sing the guys in unison, “blood and guts and Satan keeping score.” That’s before they scream “fuck you” in the fondest way possible. It’s not as good as the “fuck you!” in Killdozer’s “Hamburger Martyr,” mind you, but theirs is no disgrace. You can’t beat the best.

“Parasite” is a time capsule—a vamped-up, Farfisa-fueled garage rocker with a melody that you’ll want to hug. It’s a bona fide slice of happy, and once again Dahlia sounds like a well-adjusted guy—heck, he probably does his own taxes, and doesn’t at all sound like the kind of guy who would mow the dog. “Come Unglued” is a basher and a screamer and features some demented organ—it’s an odd, noisy little thing, and the perfect set-up for the pop punk “We Will Dare,” a dare I say it inspiring duet with Sik Sik Sicks’ vocalist Madd Lucas that brings “Mrs. Robinson” to mind.

There’s a great little keyboard riff in there, and I can’t listen to it without feeling all warm and fuzzy, which this being The Dwarves we’re talking about it pretty compelling evidence that the End Times are nigh. “Lean” is metallic, slow-motion sludge, which is then sped up only to slow down again, and what it all means is beyond me. But it’s pretty annoying, which I think was their goal. Another winner!

They do a bit of everything on “Ain’t Playing with You.” It begins life as a snotty pop punker complete with soaring backing vocals and a snarling guitar before descending into metallic realms complete with guttural vocals by Satan, I think, who is often to be seen in photos wearing a Dwarves t-shirt. “Sixteen” is a Mann Act violation set to a pounding punk rhythm, and features a lot of screaming and one very cool guitar. I’m sure the judge at the band’s trial on charges of fondling jailbait will take it into consideration before sentencing them to a long prison term.

“I Stabbed My Dad” is a primal blast of hardcore that probably won’t make you stab your dad unless you’re very impressionable, and it could be funnier—the Angry Samoans would have had a field day with it. Meanwhile closer “All for You” is a hard-driving number with pureed vocals (boy do they sound smooth) that makes me think these guys had better start running their songs through the “Foo Fighter” check on the studio console—this one is Dave Grohl generic. (And there is an unholy connection between the two bands—onetime Dwarves drummer Josh Freese is currently with the fightin’ Foos.) Fortunately they follow it up with what I’m guessing is a hidden track that is pure devil worship fare, which can be seen as either atonement or a commentary on the preceding song—”All for You” is the kind of bland fare that Satan uses to lure normals into the Torrid Zone.

I like the poppier side of The Dwarves—if you’re going to be a nihilist, it doesn’t hurt to be a cheerful one. You know, to smile once in a while. Although with these guys it will always be difficult to tell the difference between a smile and a show of teeth. That said, it’s a perilous path they’re on—dabble in the dark realms of cheery pop punk long enough and you risk waking up one dreadful morning to see Sugar Ray smiling back at you in the mirror. Or, Jack Scratch help us, Smash Mouth. Not that I see it happening—The Dwarves will always be evil, and they would first have to overcome their most fundamental character trait—common indecency.

GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-

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