“He’s going to make one other document quickly, virtually actually,” Pitchfork’s Jayson Greene wrote of Christopher Owens whereas reviewing 2015’s Chrissybaby Without end. He didn’t. In 2017, the previous Ladies frontman’s motorbike collided with an SUV, leaving him bedridden and unable to afford medical care. A string of losses adopted that may be unendurable for most individuals: his fiancée, his job, his condo, his cat, his favourite guitar. At all-time low, he reached out to his former Ladies accomplice Chet “JR” White for a reunion, however White was barely responsive on the periods and died not lengthy afterward at age 40.
Owens appears to be faring higher now, married to a brand new accomplice, however his new album, I Wanna Run Barefoot Via Your Hair, is a travelogue of his journey by means of hell. It’s Owens’ most cautious and deliberate solo album, and the tempo not often exceeds a crawl. Whereas Chrissybaby crammed 16 songs into just below an hour, Barefoot has 10 songs in about the identical time. This is sensible: Chrissybaby was recorded virtually totally by Owens, an method much less conducive to sprawl than jamming with a band. Owens has a superb one right here, led by the oozy lead guitar work of Derek Barber (of Perhapsy and Owens’ erstwhile band Curls), and he permits himself the gospel-tinged crescendos and basic ’70s album-rock majesty he hasn’t approached since Ladies’ swan track Father, Son, Holy Ghost.
The bodily toll Owens’ ordeal took on him is audible in his voice, which is deeper and raspier than earlier than. Owens’ singing has historically been flecked with little rockabilly hiccups and vocal-fry fractures, however right here each notice is articulated and sung with such goal it’s as if he’s pulled every one individually from his throat. His consideration to phrasing on ballads like “Distant Drummer” and the devastating gospel track “I Assume About Heaven” makes it simple to think about him singing a jazz normal like “My Humorous Valentine.” At occasions his voice slides from one notice to a different a bit too simply, indicating that some doctoring might have been needed for Owens to sing the pop melodies rattling in his head.
The lyrics are brief on specifics, however Owens has at all times written as if he have been snipping tried-and-true traces from the annals of pop historical past and gluing them collectively. It says as a lot about Owens’ readability of imaginative and prescient as his circumstances that “Issues don’t appear so dangerous/Issues don’t appear so unhappy” lands like a burst of redemptive divine mild. With such a direct unburdening of ache, this blunt and unpoetic writing type is a bonus. In a pop songwriting zeitgeist the place empathy and sincerity are the operative phrases, it’s uncommon to listen to a track as vindictive as “No Good,” which kicks off the album on a savage tirade towards his former fiancée. “Fuck off, keep gone/Look what you’ve carried out,” he cries. The refusal to empathize with what his ex could be feeling is type of spectacular; it’s a breakup track in its purest type.
