Review by Gavin Breeden: The most charming thing about Album, the debut record from San Francisco indie-rockers Girls, is the genuine sense of awe and wonder its creators see in the world. This is felt from the album's opening track, “Lust for Life,” one of the most instantly satisfying songs of the year. It features a wish-list of sorts that almost anyone could get behind: a father, a pizza and wine dinner, a suntan, and a brand new start, among other things. The song’s bright melody, propelled by jangly beach bum guitar, is so catchy that you’ll likely be humming it before its two and a half minutes are up. And then there’s the song’s greatest virtue, singer Christopher Owens’ jumpy vocal, which shifts from a nasally whine to a deep moan, similar to (but better than) latter-day Elvis Costello. As fun as the song is, it stems from a dark passage of Owens' life, spent growing up in the Children of God cult, deprived of the things he pines (lusts?) after in the song.

This biographical resonance pervades much of Album. But the record seems to be as inspired by the singer/songwriter's freedom from a soul-crushing cult as by the dissolution of a recent romantic relationship. Therefore, it shouldn’t be too surprising that most of the songs here are about girls and either falling in or out of love with them. Each of these characteristics can be heard on the album’s best songs, both appearing in its middle portion. “Headache” finds Owens in serious Jarvis Cocker mode, crooning the record’s most tender love song, with a dreamy guitar line that could have just as easily come from the 1950s or 60s. Of all the things wished for on Album, “Headache” explicitly informs us of the thing desired above all else—namely, love, and all its baggage. In a more ambitious vain, the seven-minute “Hellhole Ratrace,” like some of the record’s other cuts, pivots on a simple chord progression—it's a slow-burner, opening with acoustic guitars before other instruments gradually enter the mix, building toward a surprisingly modest climax. “I’ve got a sad song in my sweet heart,” Owens sings, a perfect summary of Album's overarching theme.

In fact, Album might be the saddest “feel-good” record of the year. It’s as difficult not to be moved by the melancholy subject matter of the songs as it is not to get swept up in the warm, California melodies. Girls avoid schmaltzy sentimentalism and the whiney tendencies of emo in favor of a more varied emotional tenor. Owens singing is warm, even inviting, but also somewhat wounded. His voice by turns recalls everyone from Jarvis Cocker to Elvis Costello and Paul McCartney, vacillating between tones dexterously, while remaining fresh and unique. As we close in on the end of 2009, it seems to me this could be seen as the year that indie-rockers remembered how to write great pop hooks, and Girls’ Album is a shining example of that. Album provides a pile of fun singles, but it carries with it pathos as well. Christopher Owens has effectively wrestled with the pain of the past and with his bandmates created a paean to hope; and to pizza, good friends, complicated love, and bountiful second chances.

Last Word: Girls' sunny California indie-rock songs were born of darkness, but they’ll warm your heart just as easily as they’ll break it.

Review By:
Gavin Breeden

IN REVIEW ONLINE