The Sauced Bulletin

I’ll admit that it took me a little while to warm to Girls’ debut album, Album (get it?), back when it came out.  I found Christopher Owens’ vocals off-putting at first, and the songs and lyrics seemed a bit too simplistic.  But, the more I listened, the more I started to dig what was going on.  I realized just how catchy songs like “Lust for Life” and “Laura” were, as well as how deeply affecting epics like “Hellhole Ratrace” were emotionally.  That record is packed with great songs and only narrowly missed my Top 10 that year.

So, naturally, the bar was set rather high for the follow up.  Father, Son, Holy Ghost works on some levels, some of the time even as well as the debut, but I have to say that it’s ultimately a bit of a letdown.  And that’s such a shame because it starts out so awesome!  Seriously, the first three songs had me so damn excited.  “Honey Bunny” is basically the Girls sound distilled into a catchy as fuck pop song to get things rolling.  Then comes “Alex”, by far my favorite song on the record.  Shifting time signatures accompany a beautiful acoustic guitar break a little ways through, which then proceeds to BLOW UP into balls out rocker, only to then GO BACK to the beginning!  It’s a crazy song that, the first time you hear it, you have no idea where it’s going.  And by crazy, I mean awesome.  And speaking of balls out rockers, “Die” just about encapsulates the term.  It comes barreling out at you at breakneck speed and is probably the loudest track I’ve ever heard from Girls.  Dual guitars, a huge riff, this thing might as well be a Queens of the Stone Age song.

So at this point things are looking pretty good for Father, Son, Holy Ghost.  It’s been fun, exciting, and genuinely unpredictable.  Can Girls keep it up!?!?  Sadly, the answer is a resounding no.  I’ve listened to the record several times now and, for the life of me I can’t recall what fourth track “Saying I Love You”, sounds like.  I just seem to remember that it was so bland, so lame and lovey-dovey that I didn’t like it.  It’s one thing to come off as wide-eyed and a bit naive in the face of rock music’s possibilities, but it’s another thing entirely to be so overly precious that it’s annoying.  The latter is what happens on this song.

From there the middle section of the record descends into a strange, mid-slow tempo pairing of gigantic songs.  “Vomit” kind of works, when Owens summons up all the drama he can muster for some searing guitar work and enlists an entire choir, but it’s unremittingly bleak.  “Just a Song”, its 7 minute partner in crime, doesn’t fare as well.  Slow, boring and repetitive, it limps by on the same few lines sung over and over, not really building and finally not really going anywhere.  “Magic” restores some bounce to the proceedings, but suffers from the same in your face twee-ness of “Saying I Love You” that, for some reason, just doesn’t fly with me this time around.  The 8 minute “Forgiveness” is a decent slow burner with some real emotional heft, but after that things sort of peter out with the last two tracks.

So what’s up with Girls?  Why doesn’t this album, made up from many of the same elements as Album (GET IT!?), work the same?  Shouldn’t it!?!  Well, not really.  Girls didn’t try to recreate their debut, which was a smart move.  Instead, they tried to make things bigger and more directly affecting, and therein lies the misstep.  The great thing about Girls when they first showed up was their ramshackle, tossed-off brilliance.  It seemed like they were just two guys who were glad as fuck to be in a band, crafting great songs without even really thinking about it.  But this time around, things feel forced.  Father, Son, Holy Ghost seems like its making a concerted effort to make you cry, or make you rock out, or make you go “awww” or whatever.  Trying too hard does not fit the Girls aesthetic, admirable though it may be.  Maybe their debut was just lightning in a bottle, only to be captured once and never duplicated.  Who knows!?  All I know is that Christopher Owens is a really good songwriter who doesn’t need schmaltz or strained bombast to get his point across.  He just has to be himself, give less of a fuck (or at least appear to) and Girls will be just fine.