“The Made Man’s Manifesto” sums up the Dots rather well, not necessarily lyrically but in its ability to combine pulsing electronics, half sung poetry, a touch of droning jazz with a rising blues influenced guitar bit that implodes into a psychedelic whirlpool. That might sound a bit off, but the Dots have always been a bit off. A Dots’ album is an organic, exotic, esoteric rollercoaster of clankity clonk and opium induced holidays. You can describe one song (“No Matter What You Do”) as a free form jazz flavored dub and follow it up with whisper of piano as Ka-Spel tosses carefully sharpened words around like pillows (“Stigmata Pt. 4”) while turning jazz and gypsy tinged folk into lovers (“Feathers of a Down” into “Please Don’t Get Me Wrong”). Thee point being this: the Dots are 25 years old and they still don’t stick to a formula. Like vagabonds they dismantle genres and steal the bits that fit. Sometimes it doesn’t work, but in the case of Your Children… you’ll find the most approachable, still decidedly non-commercial, collection of songs the group has put out in the past decade. Take a listen to “Peace of Mind” and you’ll know exactly what I mean.
