Odditorium Or Warlords Of Mars

Whilst a complete reinvention of rock this may not be, a beautiful soaring record for messy nights and hungover Sundays, it most certainly is.

An album that playfully veers all over the place and leaves you feeling as heady and confused as a first time stoner.

This is their best yet.

Gone from Odditorium Or Warlords Of Mars are the long periods of monotony that turned Welcome To The Monkey House and The Dandy Warhols Come Down into sonic quicksand. Instead, when the Dandies come to forks in the road, their arrangements wander off into uncharted territory that’s worth exploring.

Brims with indulgent, bleary-eyed rock 'n' roll. [Oct/Nov 2005, p.129]

Recalls the blow-out blues of Beggars Banquet, a record not so much made for reveling as it is for the next-day hangover. [#69, p.95]

Odditorium contains the best and worst aspects of the Dandy Warhols.

Odditorium has at least a handful of solid tracks.

Something this indulgent could only be a labor of love, but even die-hard Dandy Warhols fans might find embracing this album to be too much work.

Though it at first struggles to find its legs, Odditorium is as satisfying as anything the band's ever done. [#10, p.106]

There's two ways for the devout Dandys fan to approach 'Odditorium...' . 1) it's their 'Kid A', a brave blunder into a new creed of experimentation into which they will hopefully one day re-work The Tunes. Or 2) what they really wanted to make was a week-long jazz opus played entirely on dying cats, but the record company made them put some proper songs on it.

Odditorium buries its subtle hooks deep with endless, shape-shifting jams. [Oct 2005, p.136]

Any ad creatives hoping for mobile phone campaign music will be disappointed. [Oct 2005, p.102]

Mostly, the sound of The Dandy Warhols spreading their wings suits them. [Oct 2005, p.115]

A murky return to the denim'n'leather heartlands of 2000's Thirteen Tales. [Oct 2005, p.96]

We'd rather watch the Dandys than listen to 'em.

Odditorium... is a chance to repair their cred, and insofar as they have any, they do all right. [Sep 2005, p.102]

There are no formulas here, and that's a good thing, but one can't help but feel the lack of focus and discrimination it took to put together Odditorium or Warlords of Mars.

An aptly-named collection that will have even foul-weather fans scratching their heads as to where the pop has gone.

So off-putting as to alienate the band's fanbase.

Basically, Odditorium sounds like a giant "fuck you" to [their] record label. [Nov 2005, p.218]

Whether it's a fuck-you to fans who scoffed at 2003's synth-poppy Welcome to the Monkey House or a vindictive fulfillment of their contractual obligation to Capitol Records, this crap smells bad any way you sniff it.