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11:41am Friday 13th January 2012 in CD reviews
By Mark Stead, mark.stead@thepress.co.uk
IT’S pretty likely the creative process surrounding the second full album from Californian shoegazers Girls involved discussions about running a mixture of the Beach Boys, Fleetwood Mac, Deep Purple, Pink Floyd and the Dandy Warhols up the flagpole and seeing what saluted.
Unfortunately, Father, Son, Holy Ghost sees these creditable influences all too often having to rub shoulders with The Lemonheads and – look away now – The Thrills. Girls have fleshed out their sound over the past two-and-a-half years, and the willingness to tackle everything from surf-pop to garage-rock to 1950s-style Americana suggests a band who aren’t short of guts.
But inconsistent songwriting and lyrics with plenty of vague sentiment but little substance or genuine observation mark Girls out as just another mid-table indie outfit. Strangely, the most impressive things on Father, Son, Holy Ghost are the slacked-off, hungover tracks such as Alex, My Ma and Forgiveness. That’s a new one: a band only at their best when they’re not trying too hard.
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