At Home With Owen for 38 minutes

By Joey Vergara

Published Nov. 3, 2006

As a Chicago indie scene staple (see Cap'n Jazz, Joan of Arc, Owls or American Football), Mike Kinsella has been making the rounds for quite some time.

While Mike's brother and frequent collaborator Tim continued the aggressive post-punk tradition by fronting the off-kilter Make Believe with strange moans and even weirder antics, Mike enveloped himself as Owen in 2001, showcasing the softer side of the prolific siblings. He released a self-titled debut and immediately gained notoriety for his biting lyrics and acoustic laments sans the whininess of Conor Oberst.

Five years and three releases later, Kinsella continues to prove he can't go wrong. He might not be as bitter with love as he once was, but Kinsella still makes passing remarks and questions the functionality relationships on At Home With Owen.

On the other hand, and to his credit, Kinsella takes influence from very different sources on this record.

At Home With Owen rounds out the band with a fuller sound complete with buzzing guitars, angelic vocal harmonies and a backing orchestra on some songs. The crowning and opening track of the album "Bad News" as well as the lengthy "A Bird In Hand" showcase Owen's most recent songwriting developments all in one song. The former in particular stands out for Kinsella's lack of lyrical tact but impressive use of literary techniques.

In Nobel Prize winner Gabriel García Márquez's "One Hundred Years of Solitude" the musician Pietro Crespi commits suicide after years of heartache at the hands of the Buendía sisters. As literate as ever, Owen beautifully channels the sorrow of this story into "The Sad Waltzes of Pietro Crespi" as he asks, "Could you love someone who does whatever he wants to do/ Whenever I want to?"

As he moves beyond questioning others' motivations, At Home With Owen features a more introspective Kinsella than the one found on 2004's I Do Perceive. Behind off-time vocal delivery and altogether peppy guitars, he delivers some haunting, witty lyrics on "Bag of Bones" and "Windows and Doorways."

At Home With Owen's production makes it perfectly intimate. The scratching sounds from Kinsella moving his fingers over his guitar aren't edited out; his voice is conversational. Each line and every story comes through because of Kinsella's delivery, and that's what makes this album so brilliant.

Later in the album Owen steps out with a cover of Lou Reed's "Femme Fatale" that would have made even Andy Warhol proud. With Owen's penchant for songs expressing disappointment in the opposite sex, this song makes perfect sense coming from the lips of Mike Kinsella.

With only eight tracks and 38 minutes of music, At Home With Owen leaves something to be desired.

He deftly proves himself full of quality, but the quantity side of things is sorely lacking no matter how used to this pattern you get with Owen records.

At Home With Owen is at once touching and bitter, romantic and depressing. Kinsella might have problems with love, but he has mastered his art. For his sake, maybe life will imitate art.

Artist: Owen
Album: At Home With Owen
Genre: Acoustic Indie
Record Label: Polyvinyl
Release Date: Nov. 7
Most Listenworthy Track: 'Bad News'
Reviewer's Rating: 4 out of 5 Ms