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 Caught in the Carousel - Music Reviews and More
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Kellarissa
Flamingo
Mint
-She's probably really nice.
-No doubt, but this CD is wretched.
-Why are you so negative all the time?
-That's just honesty, not negativity.
-Well, Doctor, your 3 o'clock is here. That woman with the callus cavalcade.
-Just what I needed after listening to this, Nursey. Send her in.
As Nursey pointed out to me, this CD comes straight out of the "Short, Oddball Women of Pop Music" file. You know the one you created specifically for Björk? And I know Björk , and Larissa Loyva, a.k.a. Kellarissa, is no Björk. It's hard to say exactly who Kellarissa is, a weird hybrid of Lisa Gerrard of Dead Can Dance fame mixed with some 1960's chanteuse like Claudine Longet (who, by the way, is only cool because she murdered her philandering, skier husband.) Kellarissa's album Flamingo suffers from an acute soullessness. I would suggest an antidote of Vitamin E lotion applied topically to those cracking heels and soles every 24 hours, and several courses of Mötorhead at full volume.
The promo hype on this CD reads, "Kellarissa literally means: in the basement. Think shag rugs, red lamp shades, cocktail hour and muumuus." I'd say think more about a nasty vomit stain on that shag rug. Kellarissa's music moves blithely from synthesized Farfisa-organ riffs into stylized, looped vocal tracks but never comes close to the pinnacle of that achievement, Daniel Johnston's classic Yip Jump Music. Or her sound is like a bad Dead Can Dance b-side, without any of the usual cultural imperialism that DCD are famous for. Ultimately, this album is like listening to Liquid-Plumr working unsuccessfully to unclog a really tenacious, hair-smothered drain.
—Dr. Slurpee, Podiatrist to the Stars
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