As I type this, numb-fingered from the desk-side window draught in my inefficient, overpriced, yet aesthetically pleasing apartment, I must fess up to my undeniable attraction to the charming, unnecessary, and impractical. I'm a form over function kinda girl all the way around. So what's a subzero temperature and frequently compromised plumbing in an apartment where the moldings and doorframes are really cool, right?

Well, in terms of being aesthetically pleasing, the charm factor on Sub Pop's new Kinks tribute album, Give the People What We Want, hits just slightly higher than a Sub Pop promotional compilation. Kinks covers have lost a lot of their appeal since people started covering "Come Dancing" like it was going out of style. (Don't do it. For the love of God, if you're in a band, don't. I cannot stress this enough.)

What's great about this tribute, though, is that it effectively merges all of the above into a somewhat uninspired, though truly weird amalgamation that eviscerates the competition by providing you with what you never even thought about wanting. For instance: a quiet, heartfelt rendition of "Waterloo Sunset," as performed by the Fastbacks. It's the most charmlessly charming, utterly superfluous album I've heard in a while. And to get right to the point: if you consistently answer the question "do you really need that?" with a resounding "yes," consider this compilation a possibility. If not, you should probably skip the rest of this review and pay your phone bill.

Now that I've isolated the spendthrifts, please understand that I'm not making an argument for this record's kitsch value. That would be something different-- something less premeditated, and probably less bizarre. But where most tribute albums suffer from a hyper-obsession with remaining true to the original artist, this compilation makes a strong case for the offbeat. Some portion of this could be attributable to the featured artists (I mean, when you think Murder City Devils, the Kinks aren't exactly next in line for free association). But this is a good thing. I'm all for the eclectic.

Still, that well over half of the artists on this album have at least semi-formal connections to Sub Pop makes the record resemble someone's creative idea for a promotional sampler-- "Hey, people really like the Kinks. This might, in a roundabout way, sell more Murder City Devils records." On paper, it looks like a good idea. One can imagine a Post-It on a desk in a certain Seattle office reading: "Don't forget the punk rock cover of 'Come Dancing.' The kids love those."

However, under careful scrutiny, the notion sort of deconstructs itself. Sure, the Kinks are great, but that doesn't change the fact that the Murder City Devils' take on "Alcohol" (done up in the old Killdozer style) is mostly unappetizing. Both Mudhoney and Love as Laughter contribute tracks; both sound like an afterthought. With Mudhoney, one expects a certain amount of laziness, but Love as Laughter's "Tin Soldier Man," recorded by only half of the band, is a real disappointment after the great Sea to Shining Sea.

In fact, some of the better moments on Give the People What We Want are either foregone conclusions or way out in left field. For example, garage-rockers the Fallouts offer a perfectly credible version of "The Man He Weeps Tonight." Conversely, the Makers' compelling "Strangers" comes off a bit like the bastard child of Neil Diamond and Iggy Pop (uh, it's really much, much better than that sounds). Elsewhere, the Posies' Jon Auer and singer/songwriter Heather Duby contribute mellow, adult-alternative covers of "Fancy" and "The Way Love Used to Be." And Nikol Kollars' R&B; rendition of "I Go to Sleep" is remarkable only for her uncanny-- and I do mean uncanny-- vocal similarity to Fiona Apple.

To say that Give the People What We Want is predominated by filler wouldn't be completely fair. Some of the filler isn't bad; just predictable (the Young Fresh Fellows, the Congratulators). And of course, the artists shied away from the obvious (no one covers "Lola") without completely avoiding the predictable pratfalls (the punk rock version of "Come Dancing," by a band called the Briefs who tragically didn't get my memo on not doing that).

Hmmm... so, hey, are you sure you really need that?

Your call.

-Alison Fields, January 8th, 2002