I will not begin this review with a recap Christopher Owens’ origin story. There are other reviews for just that. Instead, I am going to focus on a concert that took place in Portland, Oregon where Owens and his band Girls played a much-hyped show at the hip Doug Fir Lounge.
A few weeks before the show, the other half of the Girls nucleus Chet “JR” White announced that this tour would feature a new incarnation of the band. After their guitarist quit during a European tour, Ryan Lynch of the band Dominant Legs would be filling in until a permanent lineup could be cobbled together. Maybe things started off on the wrong foot, but the sunny pieces of melancholia that filled the Girls debut Album did not come across nearly as heartbroken, broken down or ecstatic as the versions on the record. When the band took the stage to open with the triumphant “Laura,” White’s bass made no sound and Owens quickly killed the song. “We didn’t come all this way to do it wrong.” After some fiddling around, the bass kicked in and Girls delivered a flat version of what was, on the album, a buoyant song.
Next came “Ghost Mouth” which devolved into angry feedback, unfortunately masking Owens’ vocals. As the band delved into more songs off Album, it became clear how the record’s minimal production did wonders for these otherwise ordinary pieces. A lot of the songs felt limp in their live incarnation; even the stellar “Hellhole Ratface” had lost its edge. The songs of Christopher Owens are not exactly emo – “angsty” is a better description of the emotional flavor his writing exudes. On the record the music suggests something new to discover on each listen, while in the live setting they lacked the important depth White’s production gave them.
The audience did nothing to help the band but stand cross-armed with heads barely nodding. When a couple tried to dance (albeit obnoxiously) in front of me, the guy in front of them greeted their boogie with a well-timed shove that sent the dude skittering into me. No matter, they would dance through the quiet songs as well.
Besides his opening proclamation, Owens said very little to the crowd. Dressed in a loud, multi-colored sweater, fingernails painted, hair a stringy mess, Owens reminded me of a modern Dave Pirner, if Pirner ever got that indie cred he seemed to desperately desire. In fact, as the band finished the set with a triumphant “Lust for Life,” I couldn’t help but think about Soul Asylum and wondered if Girls was destined for a similar, sad flame-out.
Unfortunately, the evening didn’t end there. Owens returned for an encore, mumbled something about how he would play a few more but the band didn’t know any of the songs. Then came a four song encore that dragged on as Owens really unleashed the torment, comparing love to the cold weather, giving up on his lover and forgetting girls. By the last time the final song rolled around, something about “broken hearts,” the duo in front of me kept dancing, the crowd stood stock still and I eyed the exit. Sorry, Girls, you just didn’t reach me that night.
by David Harris
