Australian quartet Girl and Girl splash onto the scene with their first full-length Call a Doctor, produced by Burke Reid (known for his work with fellow Aussies Courtney Barnett and Julia Jacklin). The band formed when Kai James (vocals, guitar) was playing with brother Coby (bass) and Jayden Williams (guitar) in the family basement, and James’ Aunt Melissa (aka Aunty Liss) sat in on drums. They begged her to become a permanent member, to which she eventually acquiesced. Following some singles and EPs that gained traction in their homeland, Coby James left and was replaced by Fraser Bell. At that point, they toured, landed a record deal with Sub Pop, and entered the recording studio. What resulted is a promising debut from an unassuming band that delivers lively songs in an amusing manner. The only knock is that the album is not as fully formed as the presentation and opening sequence would suggest.
James reworked some original tunes on Call a Doctor to focus more on weighty topics, such as mental health. Using that central theme as a jumping off point, the album is presented as a drama that takes place in the Wesley Hospital, with the hypochondriac protagonist seeking treatment for his many ailments. The narration on “INTRO” sets the stage for the rest of the record and transitions seamlessly into the rousing “Call a Doctor”. The album’s exposition is stylistically reminiscent of Twin Fantasy-era Car Seat Headrest meets Tommy by the Who. The omnipotent doctor diagnoses the young man as someone who chooses to be unwell to avoid applying himself or incurring any risk. He says, “You’ve chosen the path of least resistance, and, in doing so, you’re missing out on a whole lot.”
The emergency room drama ensues over the following few songs. On the title track, the doctor calls the patient’s bluff and recommends operating immediately if his condition is so severe. That causes our hero to spiral out of control. He envisions the surgery—rather butchery—as a symbolic path to regeneration. While he’s now perplexingly confident that he will live forever, we learn that “life is hard to live with tears that never dry.” Listeners come to realize that the pain is real even if his ailments aren’t: “But this don’t feel metaphorical / The pain I feel is horrible.”
The jangly lead single “Hello” is similarly bursting with energy and features an angular guitar line with crisp chord progressions. The song blends mental health crises with modern-day helpline frustrations (“Now bugger off / And thank you for your call”). This sequence ends in the most unlikely fashion, with a rendition of the “So Long, Goodnight” ritual from The Sound of Music, but somehow it works.
The plot soon gets lost, and listeners must reckon with the fact that if this is a concept album, it is very loosely tied together. The whole hospital story falls away, with “OUTRO” serving as a bookend only insofar as the doctor returns to predict that the hero will soon “disappear.” James sings, “I hope you’re well / Because it’s hell down here”, but the epilogue is really about missing somebody more than it is about death, even in a metaphorical sense. On the surface, the album is about mental health, but it is also about love, friendship, and familial bonds. That shows it’s hard to sustain a unified theme throughout an entire record, even after such a compelling start. Even though some of the songs on Call a Doctor are not entirely fleshed out, there are plenty of positives to build upon for the future.
Girl and Girl captivate with their sound and overall style. Tracks like “Oh Boy!” and “Mother” are built around James’ quavering vocals, which is comparable to how Conor Oberst channeled his fiery energy on Bright Eyes‘ early recordings. Girl and Girl demonstrate their dexterity by how they can move from the wide-angle lens to the emotive in the span of a few songs, similar to a band like Okkervil River. “Suffocate” repeats the refrain “We’ll try and love you / We’ll suffocate and love you” over a harmonizing guitar pattern. The song is bright and melodic and, therefore, stands in contrast to the subject. At just over five-and-a-half minutes, “Maple Jean and Anthropocene” is relatively grand in scope. It begins as a pastoral ballad with some amusing lyrics (“I love mom, but I don’t mind dad”) that gains energy as it moves into the refrain. The meaning gets convoluted, but the agony is clearly present: “I didn’t mean to break your heart / I crushed it and tore it apart.”
On Call a Doctor, Girl and Girl seem familiar but feel fresh simultaneously. They become part of the larger jangle pop resurgence that features acts like Ducks Ltd., Kiwi Jr., the Tubs, and Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever. Due to the breadth of the subgenre, they are as similar to those acts as they are different. In terms of influence, their unpolished charm is closer to New Zealand’s the Clean than Australian bands like the Go-Betweens or even the Lucksmiths, but their spirit already transcends the provincial. Call a Doctor delivers in terms of ambition alone. Assuming they mature accordingly, Girl and Girl should be a band we follow for years to come.