Our Rodeo Rocker discusses the rare innocence found in the popular San Fran band: ‘Girls’.

Courtesy of Renée Rodenkirchen

It’s no secret these days that, with the emergence and domination of indie band culture, the nature of the term has been ironically exploited into mainstream culture (with major labels practically manufacturing bands on an assembly line). But what’s worse is that the kids who’ve been exposed to this garbage have begun imitating these corporate-produced, synthetic versions of indie rock. It’s as if they truly believe that throwing on a pair of tightly tapered jeans, and staring at their feet like a dick will turn them into a rock star.

But whether it’s the imitation or just a desire to give in to the demands of the corporate market, there’s a naivety within both; and it’s something that can never qualify as genuine innocence.  Why is innocence important? Well, because good indie bands possess the spirit of this genuine innocence and the freedom associated with it – and I think ‘Girls’ has got it.

Together since 2007, the San Francisco band recently released their debut album, sardonically titled “Album.”  They decided to make a stop on their North American tour in Toronto on Tuesday at the El Mocambo, and were happily greeted by a sold out crowd. Given the cramped circumstances, we decided that the best views for us would be had by climbing up on the long bench that runs along the northern wall of the venue. This new perspective revealed to us a male dominated crowd; lots of guys here to see Girls – which made sense I guess. But anyone unfamiliar with the group might have been confused when four young men: Christopher Owens, Chet “JR” White, John Anderson, and Garett Godard walked out onto the stage.

Courtesy of Renée Rodenkirchen

Their lead singer, Owens, sports long greasy hair combed over most of his face; as if he were timidly hiding behind an old curtain…a very hairy, very greasy old curtain. It’s a great look, nevertheless, and one which seemed to dominate the audience’s attention. When they began to play I was at a loss with how to describe their music in a couple of words. The best I could do was to keep it under ten:  west-coast-surfer-style-indie-pop-grunge-rock.  Their tone was fantastic; with their Fender Telecaster and Rickenbacker guitars worn high in proper Beatles form, and they played a perfected shimmery tremolo in fine west coast fashion.

Some performance highlights were their intensity while ending  “Hellhole Ratrace”, which, by the way, has one of the best videos I’ve ever seen. Also, one could not deny feeling the audience’s energy rise when they played “Lust for Life”. But in my strong opinion, that should have been one of their last songs as opposed to having been placed mid-set.

Apart from a few glitches, (i.e., one botched ending, an unfortunate cord pop-out during an important transition and an acoustic electric feeding back) the performance was solid. Moreover, given their mind state, they did really well. Some members were obviously lacking in sobriety, partly, I’m sure, due to the continual consumption of a mystery liquid on stage – but this wins points with me. I love a band that drinks on stage; if drinking is part of the inspiration for their songs then it’s not only natural, but also best that it be a part of the live experience too.

There was an endearing innocence about these guys; quiet ‘thank yous’ were spoken between each song and the words “Um … I don’t know what to say” slipped out of Christopher Owens mouth when they were confronted with a few moments of silence, which was followed by the collective laughter of the crowd. They had a diffidence that, for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to criticize. Their songs and their presence spoke to a certain freedom of youth that made me want to get drunk and run around naked on a beach. What I experienced was what I thought to be the music of authentically free, innocent individuals, which can be a rarity these days. Often times, music that has lost the spirit of this innocence either takes on a blatant pessimistic cynicism or an ironic cynicism, or they conform to the demands of the industry. Thank god this hasn’t happened to these guys yet.

VERDICT:
4.5 / 5

– Ross Gower.