21 Jul 11
Girlfriends, friends, sisters, daughters, nieces, mothers, aunts, grandma’s, internet whores, that crazy hoarder lady who lives down the road, the list is endless. We all know someone who was at some point in time, somewhere, a girl. Three records in (yeah they’re counting their Broken Hearts Club EP, deal with it) it’s safe to assume San Francisco nostalgia rock duo Christopher Owens and Chet White, are going to be Girls for the foreseeable future, testicles or no testicles (seriously though guys, show some respect, I think the eunuch route is the way to go at this point…) Out September 12th on True Panther Sounds, the above taster captured inside that fuzzy grey block of sound, is an early indication of what to expect from Father, Son, Holy Ghost. Depending on your stance on overblown, slow burning gospel rock Vomit could be an apt title, as it’s about as far away from their usual Buddy Holly bopping, Elvis Costello embedded jangle pop sound they could get, without enlisting Tinie Tempah and NDubz in for some vocal duties. Like an ADHD afflicted, angry, E-number stuffed child at a Church service, the track explodes, and simmers down several times in the space of 10 minutes, before exploding into a searing climax, assisted by what can only be described as Hallelujah organs, some Beyonce-esque warbling, and a gospel choir. Providing the bassist doesn’t play that. Same. Bassline. All over the album, this could be a departure from the Girls we know and love (tee hee)
I think you all owe me for googling ”Girls” and ”Vomit” so you didn’t have to by the way. I might never sleep again.