Kimya Dawson Alphabutt by: Dean Van Nguyen Wed:29-Oct-08 Label: K Year: 2008 WB rating 35 out of 100

Being one half of anti-folk legends The Moldy Peaches, Kimya Dawson’s place in the hearts of her loyal fan base was secured long before her much written about exposure on the Juno soundtrack last year. A mostly acoustic collection of sweet and quirky songs, the album was a runaway success, on which Dawson featured on seven tracks, bringing the usually reclusive artist to a whole new audience. For those approaching Dawson’s new album expecting more of the same, they will be baffled by this bizarre collection of childish rhymes and odd, underwritten skits. She’s missed an opportunity to capitalise on her surge in popularity, but then again playing Ms. Popular was never Dawson’s thing.

Intended to be a children’s album, Alpabutt was inspired by Dawson’s two year old daughter Panda Delilah and plays like a series of Sesame Street sing along songs. Doesn’t sound like much fun for the normal, well adjusted adult though, and for the most part it’s not. Even her most dedicated fans are unlikely to find much to treasure from an album that’s primary subject matter is intended to appeal to toddlers and it’s stuffed with annoying childish yammer which makes it impossible to enjoy the singer/songwriter’s usually charming likeability.

Even as a record for kids it falls down. Maybe in Dawson’s wonderfully quirky mind songs about bodily functions and “hair growing down there” are the kind kids should be chanting, but I wouldn’t recommend this for any of my friend’s children. Sometimes I wonder if Dawson was veering towards parody here, but allowing eight-year-old McAlister Shea to write a couple of tracks and featuring her own daughter throughout the album suggests she was attempting a real children’s record, and I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. There are other problems however. These songs just aren’t likeable nor are they catchy enough to be children’s music, which is probably a good thing because you wouldn’t want them rattling around your head anyway.

Frustratingly you sense that beneath the taped together sentiment there is a record in their somewhere. As one might expect the acoustic guitar propels almost every track, with Dawson’s sound being filled out by the occasional smidgeon of bass, drums and seemingly any toy instrument she could get her hands on. After a couple of false starts ‘Bobby-O’ hints at what might have been, hitting all the right elements of a good time sing along, and recalling The Beatles’ ‘The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill’. Best of the bunch is ‘Happy Home (Keep on Writing)’, where Dawson recalls her own childhood and some of the lessons she learned growing up.

But when it’s bad, it’s cringe worthy. ‘We’re All Animals’ is just plain weird, with Dawson attempting to explain to her two-year-old daughter why it’s okay to cultivate those bushy bits on your body because, yep, “we’re all animals”. While the title tracks only purpose seems to be collecting every word that incites pre-schoolers in fits of laughter on one easily digestible 55 second long track.

But for the most part it’s a succession of short, annoying musical skits that would belong on cheap children’s television. As it’s undoubtedly a personal record for the usually consistent and often unpredictable Dawson we will forgive her, but she is better than this botched attempt at capturing childhood that ends up halfway between The Boy Least Likely To and Phoebe from friends.