Girls / Tamaryn / Dominant Legs
Bottom of the Hill; San Francisco, CA

[11-21-2009]

The sold-out Girls show at San Francisco’s Bottom of the Hill is not as triumphant as I hoped. One might think a celebration of San Francisco would be joyous, but jamming a crowd of Mission District Hipsters (Mishsters?) into a tiny venue is like putting one too many toddlers in a playpen. Tantrums are thrown, hair is pulled, dresses and lipstick compete for attention. It is difficult to consider other people when so much of your time and energy is focused on the careful construction of your own identity. Not to mention the desire to let EVERYONE KNOW YOU ARE FRIENDS WITH CHRISTOPHER OWENS and your insistence that your tits can be seen bouncing in the music video for “Lust for Life.” We get it: you’re special and unique. Now please stop making out with each other so we can enjoy the fucking show.

Dominant Legs is Ryan William Lynch and Hannah Hunt (sporting an oversized letterman jacket). They sing lush pop songs with titles like “Young at Love and Life,” featuring only a guitar, drum machine, and synthesizer. It is easy music to dance to.

Tamaryn is more atmosphere than sound. She struggles to stay on key, delivering a more “drunk at karaoke” performance than something inspired by Kate Bush or Sixousie Sioux.

It’s a shame the Girls' crowd is so awful; Owens and JR White put on a fantastic show. Owens looks adorable and cozy in an oversized reindeer sweater and bright-red vest. He is 29 years old, but a gaunt face and shockingly blue eyes suggest a longer and more wearisome existence (growing up in a cult will do that to you). They open with “Laura,” a disgustingly catchy pop song during which Owens earnestly hopes to “be friends forever” with an ex. The song drifts into dreamy territory as Owens sings “Ba-ba-ba-da-da-da” over guitar reverb, creating something beautiful and melancholic. The drumming and White’s talent on the bass make “God Damned” a harder (and much better) version than the original.

I’m excited for the thrilling crescendo of “Summertime” — a song I like to play whenever I see the city skyline from a distance — but am forced to move because of a girl jumping on my head. Owens eventually stops the show and asks some obnoxious fuckers if “the bullshit is done” before security comes through and kicks them out. Girls recover with the narcotic anthem, “Hellhole Ratrace,” which has everyone singing, “And I don’t wanna die without shaking up a leg or two,” as if we are wasting our youth together.

Or maybe we are all just wasted.