BELLMER DOLLS

Manifesting the spirits of their namesake, Bellmer Dolls may not directly embody the influence of Hans Bellmer or the New York Dolls, but they certainly exhibit tendencies that both expose their punk ethic and betray their affinity for the darker, seedier, and more controversial faces of life and existence.? Just as German anarchist Hans Bellmer used his art to revolt against the Nazi party?s cult of the idealized human form, dismembering and reassembling doll parts and contorting them into awkward surrealist sculptures of mutant, pubescent female figures, Bellmer Dolls wield their music as a wily weapon of desecration.? Captivating audiences with their elegantly tormented performances, Bellmer Dolls spew musical venom that creeps into and seizes its hosts as a deliciously insidious pleasure. Shrouded in layers of mystery and intrigue, Bellmer Dolls fashion themselves as dark dandies and dapper misfits. Voted onto Paper Magazine's Top Beautiful People list, the band's hermetically archaic aesthetic almost renders them into a surreal vision of tableaux vivants. Onstage, however, they are much more than mere living incarnations of their images: the figures jolt as if resuscitated at the first beat of the drum, unleashing virile, robust rhythms and emitting raw, provocative energy. Adopting Brechtian dramatics that would make Kurt Weill proud, Bellmer Dolls draw upon a base of Weimar-era influences, channeling Goethe even, charming suspects into a musical Faustian pact. Hypnotic and harrowing, the music crafted by Bellmer Dolls defies any standard categorization.? Lending themselves to comparisons to Nick Cave/The Birthday Party and in a similar vein as deathrock bands like Gun Club and Cop Shoot Cop Bellmer Dolls music merges neurotic, jangly guitars with incantational drumbeats and a brooding bassline. With vocals that seem to conjure the spirits of decadence and debauchery, Mavrogeorgis raspy, funk yelps sound like the remnants of an as-yet unfinished bender. Fractured chords twitch anxiously and insistently, as if invoked for some ritualistic sé¡®ce. Threads of tension weave the musical components together; tugging at this fabric only unravels more haunting sounds, as the soulful and sinister howls, bluesy beats, and sassy shrieks further ensnare the listener. Proceeding with cautious trepidation, the listener can make but a futile attempt to avoid succumbing to the band?s carnal appeal. After a year rehearsing in self-imposed seclusion, Bellmer Dolls surfaced as a tight unit with a repertoire of seeping, squirming, sultry songs.? With an almost palpable sense of danger and doom lingering in their music, the band?s concoction of throbbing, urgent songs, coupled with their macabre spunk, seduced the socks off Jon Spencer. After an initial string of dates sharing stages with the Blues Explosion and luminaries like Enon, We Are Wolves, The Bravery, and Pretty Girls Make Graves, Bellmer Dolls recorded and self-produced Never Sates Nor Palls and set off on two U.S. tours. Earning themselves a residency in L.A., Bellmer Dolls were soon rewarded with critical acclaim: The Village Voice pronounced them Brooklyn noise-goth royalty, while The New York Times ran a cover story on Malat?s Sinner/Saint menswear line. Accolades continued in 2005 after the release of their first EP, courtesy of Hungry Eye Records: The Big Cats Will Throw Themselves Over, produced by NYC post-punk stalwart Jim Sclavunos (of Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Sonic Youth, Cramps, and currently with Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds). As their breed of raunchy, bluesy horror-punk began to infiltrate the mainstream, magazines like Nylon, Blackbook, V Magazine, and XLR8R became compelled with their strapping swagger, ribald wit, and infectious, compulsive songs. Proudly displaying all the skeletons in their closets, Bellmer Dolls now have bones to pick. With a full-length LP projected for release in 2006, the band will maintain a fixed, unflinching stare as they march ahead. As they set off to lure Europe with their musical bait, the trios ravishing gusto and probing songs will puncture and permeate audiences abroad, spreading their essence like the Plague. First they took Manhattan; next they'll take Berlin. -Kateri O'Neil.