I've recently become aware of some new reviews of 2 of our old(er)
albums. I guess it is fitting that people are reviewing these albums
now since there seems to be quite the buzz around all things Owen
the past few weeks.

Oh, I guess this might be a good time to remind people about the
PTDF coloring contest:
http://www.owenlofi.com/coloring.html

Anyways, enjoy.
-z

http://www.erasingclouds.com/wk1205reviews.html

Owen, Masterpiece (Girl in a Box Records)

Masterpiece was billed by the lo-fi duo Owen as their "most
ridiculous album yet" (they've released a few more since then, I'm
not sure if that claim's been revised), and "ridiculous" is a
fitting word. That's not because the music shouldn't be taken
seriously. Instead, it is filled with atmosphere, melody, emotion,
and above all creativity. No, this album is completely ridiculous
because of how wildly it jumps back and forth across the musical
map, because the two musicians (Zachary Carroll and Rev. Kenneth
Martin) are so obviously letting the music go wherever they feel
like, following whatever fleeting notion pops into their heads. In
that way the music feels like an unplanned road trip, like 'Zachary
and the Reverend see America'. Opening track "Stuart" has half-
asleep harmonies that conjure up a Cali afternoon; the second
track "South Sea" kicks off with the line "yesterday's crimes are
behind me / I'm just living for today"; there's a song about riding
a "Tijuana Trolley", one sung in an imaginary truck-driving
bluesman's growl about pulling over to pee, and an album-closing one
titled "Back Home in Missoula." The overall feeling on most of
Masterpiece's ragged pop-rock songs is that of the brightest
sunshine, but the pair also has a clear taste for absolute
randomness. They sing in fake voices, talk in the background, mess
around with drum machines, introduce track number 4 by saying "Track
10, Take 1", and record a track called "Helium" that's just them
talking nonsense after ingesting helium. They like to mess with your
expectations, taunt you to say "goddamn it, this is ridiculous!"
That's great news for music fans sick of hearing band after band
that tries so hard to find success that they end up sounding like
every band you've ever heard. Owen are taking their own route, and
that's special. - dave heaton


http://www.leftoffthedial.com/Owen_Psychedelic.htm

Owen: Psychedelic Tour de Force
[Girl in a Box]

Apparently Owen Ashworth of Portland's Casiotone for the Painfully
Alone had already taken this clever band name when the Northern
California band, comprised of Zachary Carroll and Reverend Kenneth
Martin formed the band: Owen. This was, of course, a better fit
because their songs reflect not the painfulness of solidarity, as
Ashworth's band name would suggest, but the sheer expansiveness of
emptiness—the extraordinary that comprises the ordinary.

Owen's Psychedelic Tour de Force plays like a movie's drug-induced
segue into a dream sequence. The mop-topped protagonist rests his
head back into a pillow as his eyes, hollow and gleaming, gaze up at
the swirling ceiling of colors and textures. It sounds as if John
Lennon's Free as a Bird and Sparklehorse's It's a Wonderful Life
were being played through a receiver at the bottom of the ocean or,
perhaps, from the inside of a partially solidified vat of Jello.
The third song on the record, entitled "We," even contains the
lyrics "free as a bird/ as the world/turning around on its axis" in
a melody not so unlike the posthumously released John Lennon/Beatles
song. The tenth song, an Ode to Kenneth's dilapidated
car "Cassidy," is sung in the style of Elvis Presley. In my
opinion, this song feels out of place and comes off as campy (not
unlike a drunken local singing karaoke at a pub). However, after
hearing only a few measures from any of the fourteen tracks on
Psychedelic Tour de Force, it becomes clear that these guys are not
out to impress you, but that doesn't mean they won't win you over
with their kitschy and addictive music.

The songs are upbeat despite a lethargic, circus-like tempo, and the
compression on the microphones sounds like an a.m. radio signal.
Oft times sung with a mouthful of marbles, the lyrics are
uncomplicated and consistently off key. The reverb seems
irregularly prolonged in places, and the songs stop, start, and stop
again. Despite these imperfections, I found myself captivated like
a white-eyed child on a field-trip to the planetarium. As a fickle
Sagittarian, I am definitely one who has no problem discarding an
album as quickly as it is acquired, but I found this to be a
surprisingly charming listen.