Brody Dalle and her new friends step out…
Anthony Miccio: Listening to Spinnerette after reading the negative review in Pitchfork, I felt the writer missed the fun Brody Dalle was having and spent too much time sweating what “the point” was. Sadly, this track is so much the mediocre Garbage homage he warned of that I’m afraid to revisit the album.
Chuck Eddy: As an erstwhile Distillers fan circa their first two albums, I had hopes. But though on two spins the Spinnerette CD struck me as more consistent than Rancid’s simultaneously released new one, it also had fewer peaks — no songs that really necessitated hearing them again. Including this one, though relistening now, I’d say Brody does capably sail its mushy melody into the sunset. Still liked her better when she was punkier.
Martin Skidmore: She can sing better in pop terms than her past might suggest, but her voice is fairly flat, the music is a little clumsy, mechanical and formulaic, and the song goes on too long.
Alex Wisgard: It’s got a killer chorus, and a pretty neat verse; unfortunately, they don’t work together at all, leaving the song sounding incomplete, and a bit haphazard.
Michaelangelo Matos: I like how nu-Courtney is a shameless new wave hook merchant. The chorus steals the scenery so thoroughly that they lift what sounds at first like a fairly ordinary verse structure. It’s even a touch arty, which really makes it new wave, whatever its potential Modern Rock chart status.
Rodney J. Greene: The sort of mid-octane thing that tends to get confused for “dance-rock” because it has a couple of tacked-on synthesizers.
Alex Ostroff: Brody and her new band sail into the sun and are born anew. It’s a tad too slick and Brody’s lost her growl, but it holds up better than your average contemporary synth-punk track.
Ian Mathers: Brody Dalle has always seemed both overly dramatic and a bit of a poseur, and adding sequenced beats to her music isn’t helping matters any. The muted roar of “Baptized By Fire” doesn’t sound dramatic, it sounds leashed, and to marry that sound with lyrics about someone stealing your life and you sailing to Bermuda in response… it’s not stirring, it’s just silly.
Alfred Soto: Is Bermuda blue like electric blue? The groove certainly is, taking that Unforgettable Fire-meets-Placebo rhythm into a phantom disco circa 2003. This is very silly stuff, but it doesn’t mean I won’t dance to it after a couple of vodka tonics.
Anthony Easton: Pretentious, overly ambitious, bizarre misuse/abuse of religious language, and baroque in ways that seem familiar, but the song crashes into me, wave upon wave, and knocks any of the cynicism out of me.