By Adam Lovinus
By Lilledeshan Bose
By Gabriel San Roman
By Rachel Mattice
By Stephanie Zacharek
By Daniel Kohn
By Nate Jackson
By Mike Seeley
Photo by James BunoanFingerprints Record Store
Long Beach, Tues., Sept. 21
Aw, youth: it was all girl-smiles, girl-giggles, girl-gushes and girl-crushes as Fingerprints quickly filled up with every asymmetrically-hair-styled 17-year-old former Ani DiFranco fan from Long Beach to Lakewood. By the time Tegan and Sara—a.k.a. Canada's dynamic, New Pornographers-produced, twin-sister duo—got their guitars settled on their laps, it felt like an in-store sleepover.
"I got Sara's phone number!" boasted one girl before the show, doing a little jig as she waved a Canadian Air luggage tag. "I think it's, like, Canadian or something."
Sticking mostly to songs from their solid new album, So Jealous, the twins traded off between songs—a visual treat, considering that their voices are virtually indistinguishable on record—and left a third guitarist responsible for filling in the gaps where ex-Weezer-and-Rentals-guy Matt Sharp's keyboard hooks would have been.
But while they proved more than able to carry the songs with their voices—a mix of squeak-squawk chirping and hard-edged growling—we sorta wished they'd been able to bring the rest of their band with them. In between songs, their homesickness was evident: Sara did impressions of their drummer, and Tegan stopped herself before telling an inside joke about a former tour manager. As for the songs themselves, tracks like "Walking With a Ghost" and "I Know I Know I Know" translated well acoustically—and the already quiet "Where Does the Good Go" fared even better—but we sensed what the twins really wanted to do was rock.
Still, for the girls (and three boys) in the audience, it didn't really seem to matter much—they still lined up after the show, one by one giddily asking for autographs and, if they were feeling brave, pictures.
No word on if the luggage tag gal fessed up to them, but we have a feeling someone will find out soon: before we left, we spotted a different girl holding the tag in one hand and feverishly punching the digits into her phone with the other. Aw, youth.