New York Dolls
’Cause I Sez So
(Atco/Rhino, 2009)

Typically, 90 percent of any successful comeback is just showing up. The presumption being that the artist or band in question has long since proven themselves and their reunion album is little more than a quickly forgotten souvenir to sell on some sort of victory lap reunion tour.

Thankfully, the New York Dolls are no typical band and have not, I repeat, HAVE NOT taken that cynical route on their loud-ass, confident new album, ’Cause I Sez So.

Only their fourth-ever studio album, and their second since returning to recording three years ago, this is a well-written, expertly played, and thoroughly in-the-moment collection that is not only better than one could hope for, but surpasses many of the pretenders in their field.

It’s also something of a comeback for Todd Rundgren in the role of straight-up producer of rock bands, and he proves himself to be comfortably adept at working once again in the loud guitar and live drums milieu in which he produced such enduring magic with Grand Funk Railroad and on the New York Dolls’ eponymous debut in 1973. Reunited with Dolls survivors David Johansen and Sylvain Sylvain a full 36 years later, ‘Cause I Sez So bristles with a sense of adventure, pride, and something approaching gleeful celebration of the living spirit of rock.

True, much of that vitality was evident on the Dolls’ initial comeback album, One Day It Will Please Us to Remember Even This, released in 2006, but with Rundgren back behind the board, there’s a sense that, despite going all the way to Rundgren’s studio in Kauai to record it, the New York pioneers and the Philly-born wizard have at last come together to make a real homecoming album. Johansen and Sylvain, flanked by the current Dolls—hotshot guitarist Steve Conte, propulsive drummer Brian Delaney, and sinewy bass player Sami Yaffa—have written an eclectic set of songs that range from the blistering title track opener, through vintage rock ‘n’ roll, rural blues, and even something approaching reggae, before leaving town high upon the same wild horse they rode in on.

In many ways, and forgive me if this is sacrilege, today’s band is an even better New York Dolls than the original lipstick, garters, and Johnny Thunders version. Whereas camp ruled the day in ’73, with the healthy sense of irreverence for “rock’s rich tapestry” that presaged and spawned the New York punk rock fuck-it aesthetic, these post-millennial, journeyman Dolls have enough grasp of musicianship and songcraft to rise above the band’s high concept beginnings. Syl is still Syl, the man with the big picture and reverence for rock ‘n’ roll style while, lyrically, Johansen wears his Dylanesque heart on his tattered sleeve. As a singer, he’s possessed of a truly lived in—and, one suspects, nearly died in—voice that now bears the kind of rasp you could restore old furniture with. Restoration, in fact, is an apt term to describe the current New York Dolls state of mind.

“Go point your camera some other way,” Johansen warns in the timely opener, “Ain’t gonna be in your movie today / You got surveillance for reality / But you best not even look at me / Why? Why, why? / ’Cause I sez so!”

He’s firmly rooted in today’s world, with its omnipresent Closed Circuit TV and New York anti-smoking laws, which he later bemoans on the lovely rock ‘n’ roll ballad, “Lonely So Long.” “I try to bum a cigarette,” complains Johansen, “Nobody smokes no more.” “Lonely So Long” also features some nice country baritone guitar from Conte, just to accent the vaguely cowpunk vibe.

“Muddy Bones” offers a sloppy slice of vintage Stones feel, and the closest thing here to punk. Having proven that they can play big and fast, “Better Than You” demonstrates that they can go to the heart in a mid-tempo love song, replete with classic major-to-minor, Beatlesque chord changes, and a defiantly romantic lyric that implores the listener to stop talking nasty about his girl. “My baby,”Johansen playfully adds, “She says my music’s better / It’s much better than it sounds / It’s better than you.” Delaney’s thundering drum rolls underpin “My World”, which also features Yaffa’s droning bass and some crazy-ass wah-wah soloing by Conte, a secret weapon in today’s Dolls arsenal.

Just as Bo Diddley’s presence was felt on their debut album, the spirit of Howlin’ Wolf permeates bluesy romp, “This Is Ridiculous” with the kind of tin-roof roadhouse sound explored by Tom Waits or recent Elvis Costello, this time taken to new levels by Johansen’s increasingly authentic-sounding yowl. Ennio Morricone would swoon to the pasta-cowboyism of “Temptation to Exist”, which completes the effect with big-note guitars, acoustic strums, brushed snare rolls, whistling, and Johansen’s deep melodic crooning that’s variously reminiscent of Bowie, Patti Smith, and even Dylan.

Rundgren foleys in some actual rain sounds to moisten up the lovely, lonely, acoustic-driven “Making Rain”, on which an emotionally naked Johansen is at his most vulnerable. It’s a feeling that carries through into its conceptually linked companion track, “Drowning.” The two songs are the most arty and desolate moments on the album, but lest you thought they’d forgotten that “art” is the middle word in “party,” they turn it all back up in the savvy showstopper, “Nobody Got No Bizness.”

An old-school “meet the band” potboiler, “Bizness” opens with a Sam and Dave style Memphis groove, although the lyrics appear to be geographically oblivious to it. “Hi everybody,” Johansen beams affably over a vamped intro, “I’m David Jo in the Dolls! We’re from New York City and we like our Philly Soul, Chicago style. Check it out!” It’s a hilarious yet authoritative offering of old-school boasting about how no other band can do it like the Dolls do it. “You in with the in part of the out crowd now,”ad-libs David Jo, and really, who would disagree?

Having dazzled for 10 tracks, the Dolls are confident enough by track 11 to risk pissing on their legacy by doing a cod reggae update of a landmark tune from their ’73 debut, “Trash.” But get this: It works. Not a band to go out on a mellow aloha, however, they crank it all up again for the big finish, “Exorcism of Despair”, a fuzzed-up send-off similar in structure to the Who’s version of “Summertime Blues”, but with more Hendrixian fuzz guitars and Johansen’s unmistakable howl.

‘Cause I Sez So demonstrates once and for all that the New York Dolls, guided by Rundgren’s sympathetic hand, are really back for good. This is a great rock ‘n’ roll band with tons more to say and a uniquely swaggering way to say it.

Why are they still relevant? Because they sez so, that’s why.

Listen: Various Tracks [at myspace.com]