Album Review: Girls - Broken Dreams Club (Fantasy Trashcan/Turnstile)
Duo's dreamy mini-album leaves us wanting more
For a band whose last foray into pop culture involved a viral video featuring a man holding an erect penis and pretending to sing into the head like the veiny love-length was a mic (see [i]NME.COM/video[/i]), [a]Girls[/a] sure do have a tender side. “I put this on a mixtape for my eeeeeeex!” we heard a crowd member bawl last time they played over here, and it’s heartening to hear that, with this mini-album, Christopher Owens hasn’t let his grip on our heartstrings slacken.
The fingers fasten most firmly for ‘[b]Heartbreaker[/b]’, all about the inevitability of love leading to a broken heart over rollicking Arthur Lee-esque twangs, and blessed with a glossier sheen than their previous work, as is the whole disc. But, despite having struck gold with prize moment ‘[b]Hellhole Ratrace[/b]’ on last year’s debut ‘[b]Album[/b]’, Girls are a band who release their intoxicating mist over time, making this mini-album a bit unsatisfying in quantity rather than quality. Really, from the latter-day Jonathan Richman shuffle of opener ‘[b]The Oh So Protective One[/b]’ through the Costello-gurgle ‘[b]Substance[/b]’ then the seven-minute slow-burn of [a]Doors[/a]-y closer ‘[b]Carolina[/b]’, you feel like the journey has got to the point where you’ve worked out how to switch off Chris Moyles’ bleatings, found the Murray Mints and have just started enjoying the voyage, only for the handbrake to be yanked.
But hey ho, while we might wish for more than six newies from a band we hope will bloom over the next few years into something special, it’d be churlish to do anything but welcome them with open arms – so long as Chris keeps to his word and follows up ‘[b]Album[/b]’ properly sharpish. So come on, fella – as much as we’re down with the funny phallus flicks, let’s have fingers pulled out rather than cocks from now on.
Click here to get your copy of Girl’s ‘Broken Dreams Club’ from Rough Trade Shops.