Sometimes, all it takes is some unexpected publicity to resurrect your career. So, ok, Dig!, the hilarious rockumentary which pitted the career of Courtney Taylor-Taylor and co against the self-destructive Brian Jonestown Massacre, didn't paint the Warhols in a terribly good light. But it did show that the boys and girl were a hardworking bunch that did have quite a few tunes up their collective sleeves. After their last album, Welcome To The Monkeyhouse, was unfairly passed over (The Killers at least two years before The Killers), the stage seemed set for a glorious return to form; to bring out a blissed-out, knowing Stonesy haze of an album which showed they could and can and will. Instead, we get this. First of all, what is it with the Dandy Warhols and naming things? There is nothing they have christened, from the title of their band right down to "A Loan Tonight", which doesn't make you want to hit something. It's the kind of sniggering in-jokery which personifies this album. "Love Is The New Awful" starts out promisingly, only beginning to drag around the five minute mark. It's ten minutes long. Similarly, "Easy", "There Is Only This Time" and "A Loan Tonight" all sound like particularly crap jamming sessions, noodling around for ages in search of a tune. To break this interminable dribble up, there's 'songs' like "The New Country" and "Did You Make A Song With Otis", which sound like the sort of thing that was unspeakably hilarious about two hours into a smoking session, but in the harsh light of day is just very embarrassing. Did I mention drugs? There's a lot of drugs on this album. Cos, y'know, the Dandy Warhols are COUNTER CULTURE. Which according to this album means not writing anything resembling a tune and mentioning getting high every once in a while. It's not all bad. "All The Money Or The Simple Life Honey" is a jaunty little pop number, if slightly ruined by the ho-hum lyrics about fame (To be fair, you're not exactly Tom Cruise are you Courtney?). Pick of the bunch is "Everyone Is Totally Insane", exactly the kind of laid back drone that the Warhols can do so well, which crucially doesn't outstay its welcome by quarter of an hour. It's a tonic to the itchy, angular stuff that we are currently being bombarded with, and just makes the rest of Odditorium even more frustrating to listen to. Bloated, unfocussed, riddled with unfunny in-jokes and just crap, Odditorium is the Dandy Warhols at their very worst. They can do so much better, and what better way of telling them that by not buying this album? Avoid. Avoid. Avoid.