There are people who believe it's good luck to repeat the mantra "rabbit, rabbit, rabbit" as their first spoken words on the first day of any month. I'm not sure if this is what the Hattifatteners' recent release, Rabbit Rabbit refers to. The album title has only two Rabbits-- a common variation of the same superstition. To complicate things further, there's a competing theory that suggests the lucky phrase is actually "white rabbit, white rabbit, white rabbit." These two myths are mutually exclusive, and for those of you have a "rabbit vs. white rabbit" preference, there's even a website that "invites you to vote where the truth lies."

The Hattifatteners, a rotating group of musicians that features Cat Power's Chan Marshall, present members of God is My Co-Pilot, and former members of the Silver Jews, have sporadically been composing and improvising music inspired by Finnish author Tove Jansson's "Moomintroll" books for over seven years. The group named themselves after a story called "The Secret of the Hattifatteners," from the collection "Det Onsynliga Barnet" ("Tales from Moominvalley"). I believe an explanation is in order:

"A Moomintroll is small and shy and fat, and has a Moominpappa and a Moominmamma. Moomins live in the forests of Finland. They like sunshine and sleep right through the winter. The snow falls and falls and falls where they live, until their houses look like great snowballs. But when spring comes, up they jump!"

--Kaye Webb, editor of "Puffin Books," 1974

In "The Secret of the Hattifatteners," Moominpappa abandons his family to join the Hattifatteners, a traveling group of mysterious creatures.

Rabbit Rabbit is a compilation of material recorded by the Hattifatteners between 1993 and 1999, along with some new material. After hearing the disc, I'd guess that most listeners would still have a difficult time if asked to describe the "Moomincore" sound. There are a few sloppy punk songs, some work with tapes, and an instrumental acoustic guitar track. There's singing in English and Finnish. "Ding Ding Africa" can only be described as "dance macabre," and I do mean the same "dance macabre" that you tapped rhythm sticks to in your third grade music class. "Butterflies" comes from the "artsy layered voices" school of spoken word-- the kind that's only practiced in dingy clubs that host poetry slams and display local macaroni art on the walls.

The album's liner notes make no mention of the Moomintroll, and instead include information such as "The Hattifatteners' one live performance to date took place at the sideshow at Coney Island, Brooklyn," and "Album design: Pretty Pictures." So, initially, I wasn't clued in to the concept behind Rabbit, Rabbit. What I did notice was that it quickly moves through a number of musical genres, its only consistent element being the exceptionally poor sound quality.

More than one of the retail outlets selling this album describes the Hattifatteners as "Occupying a space exactly halfway between Can and the Shaggs." I'd like to know how many kids they're "selling" by dropping those names. I mean, I can understand the Shaggs influence-- none of the artists here go out of their way to provide us with any evidence that they know how to play their instruments, despite their previous work with some of indie rock's most revered bands. But I just don't buy that someone out there considers this clanky racket of pots and pans over bad poetry "experimentation" worthy of Can's legacy. Take a look at the following poetry excerpt and see if you agree:

"Meanwhile, there are butterflies inside of my head. I can feel them and they are making everything I see look fuzzy wuzzy! They seem to be sucking the air out of my head. I'm feeling slightly dizzy and nauseous but I like it because they fill my ears with sound. Flutter, flutter, flutter, flutter, butterflies in my head, butterflies sucking the air out, making everything I think flutter by, butterflies in my head."

The first time I heard Rabbit, Rabbit I had no knowledge of its connection to Moomintrolls, or to anything Scandinavian. All I knew is that a friend of mine picked it up in the Cat Power bin at the record store. It serves as a excellent reminder that even though we may love Chan Marshall, we don't trust her to make albums that are consistently good from beginning to end. Hell, we don't even trust her to make it through most of her own shows. So why did I let her lead me into the Moominvalley of macaroni art while she and Sharon Topper bang on pots and sing about butterflies in their heads? Maybe I forgot to say "rabbit, rabbit, rabbit" at the beginning of the month.

-Kristin Sage Rockermann