








Fear of Dolls is arguably one of the most deliberately strange avant-garde rock bands anywhere, often more









psychological than musical. Naïve childlike minimalism meets the exaggerated and irrational. A visceral









and schizophrenic balance of abstract lunacy, nervousness and tension, emotional frailty, and violent









cacophony transport the listener back to a time when you still believed monsters lived under your bed.









Formed in 1995 by Greg Forschler, Fear of Dolls has actively performed live in the Seattle area while the









music and band members have constantly shifted and evolved. Settling into its first solid version in 1998,









the band has had two distinct singers amongst its otherwise ambiguous personnel changes and has been









degenerating, since 2001, into a perpetual state of uncertainty and flux. Currently fronted by Greg and 









vocalist Bonni, who joined in 2000 along with her doll Chatty Patty, shows are a rare surprise, and recordings









will occasionally continue to surface.
Conspirators:
Greg Forschler—guitar, bass, toys, vocals, other noises. (Faith & Disease, Ninth Circle)
Bonni Suval—vocals, xylophone, toys.
other members past and present:
Phil Petrocelli—drums. (Black Noise Cannon, nov23, The Living Jarboe)
Joel Bergstrom—guitar, bass, keyboards. (Bête Noire, Black Nite Crash)
Shaun Richards—drums, percussion.
M. Violet—vocals, accordion.
She Dances Happily is a posthumous recording with former vocalist M. Violet. Nearlyforgotten fragments that came together to form a cohesive mini album, simply because, it could be argued, they had to. Another serving of psychological excursions from a day in the life of Fear of Dolls. A unique and necessary moment, and an equally unique sound, that will never be repeated.
Features guest bassist Eric Cooley from Faith & Disease.
Lullabies is the quintessential Fear of Dolls album - misleading from the very start, misshapen through out, and possibly entirely misguided, but with a gleam of hope, albeit buried in nearly subliminal sarcasm. With vocalist Bonni Suval at her creeepiest and best, the songs prey upon the subconsciousness, somewhere between the absurd and the disturbed, the silly and the sinister, with unlcear intentions, transporting you back to a time when you truly believed that there were monsters under your bed. Includes a cover of the Rolling Stones song “Sister Morphine.”