DR. SOMETHING "Rustic Machinery" C23 (Self-Released)

On this criminally short 5 song EP, PDX’s Alison Dennis manages to make keys, clarinet, drums and vocals sound like a raucous orchestra in full swagger. Her theatrical bent and mastery of the counterpoint prove both innovative and playful and really, really shouldn’t be glossed over. While the first song’ll have you singing “I want to live in your sweat glands” at odd hours of the day, it’s the second and third song that belong on everyone’s weirdo-prog-indie mixtapes, back to back. That special someone you make it for will be asking for more, so you better hope Dr. Something delivers another dose pronto!

https://drsomething.bandcamp.com/album/rustic-machinery

https://drsomething.com/

-- Jacob An Kittenplan

DR. SOMETHING “Tomorrow’s Just Fiction”

This four track EP from Oregon recording artist Allison Dennis under the moniker Dr. Something was released earlier in the year. On it, Dennis sings about being the owner of an imperfect skull. But the flaw certainly isn’t in her music. (Although her bio photo that makes her look like an extra from a Portlandia sketch gone awry could certainly be improved upon.) She’s a multi-instrumental talent capable on the piano, synth, guitar, clarinet, saxophone, accordion, and bass and has a strong voice too.

The EP is full of big ideas, as well as some stripped down ones. Dennis gives the listener something in which no two songs sound very much alike. On side A, the boisterous choral vocals over a robust composition on “Imperfect Skull” stands in stark contrast to the acapella beginning of the next track, “Schrodinger’s Quarantine”. Side B gives us the piano ballad “’91” with lyrics about languishing in fear and a thunderstorm. This is only to be followed by “Foster Nitez”, which is about the fun of being a party girl in Portland. I didn’t find it to be discombobulating though. They are four unique offerings and I enjoyed listening to all of them.

Stream + Buy: https://drsomething.bandcamp.com/album/tomorrows-just-fiction

-- Roy Blumenfeld