Versions of Modern Performance: Horsegirl Album Review by Helen Judge February 1, 2023
To describe this album as a subversion of expectations would be a dramatic understatement. I began my first listening of Horsegirl’s Versions of Modern Performance as a complete stranger to the Chicago-based indie rock trio’s body of work. Going off of the (fabulous) name alone, I anticipated a flowery, easygoing sound. A saccharine parody, perhaps? A jab at the girl with the tight ponytail who spent an inappropriate amount of time on Star Stable-dot-com? And yeah, I know, I know. “Helen, you broke the rules! Never judge a book by its cover!” I’m gravely sorry dear reader, but you’ll be thrilled to know that I learned my lesson in the end! Anyways, I could induce a migraine trying to find the words to describe what this album isn’t, but I would much rather talk about what it is. The first track, “Anti-glory”, ensnares the listener with a tasteful amalgamation of grungy vocals and energetic instrumental backing. Instead of the dainty chord progressions I had been expecting, I was met with feverish guitar licks and a repeated command to dance. Pleasantly surprised and driven by intrigue, I listened on.
And on.
And on again.
As I write this review, I am listening to the album in its entirety for the fourth time. There’s something to be said for the way this album is crafted. Lyrically, each track is baffling. On paper, the lyrics to each of the songs would probably read like word salad - nonsensical, verbose, alien - and then Penelope Lowenstein and Nora Cheng come along. Whether they’re harmonizing or overlapping, there’s a vulnerability to Cheng and Lowenstein’s collective delivery that builds a bridge between the artist(s) and the listener. Confusion regarding the lyrical content quickly washes away into camaraderie. There truly wasn’t a song on this album where I as the listener didn’t feel welcome. For the duration of the album I got to be in on the joke, in on the secret, and in on the action. I was in the “World of Pots and Pans”, anticipating the end of a friendship in its infancy. During “Live and Ski” I allowed the Siege of Leningrad to invade my thoughts. “Option 8” asked me if I would push through the pain. Maybe I wasn’t drawing the intended conclusions, but something told me that it didn’t really matter. I had been invited to tag along for the ride. If Horsegirl could be vulnerable and honest, I was welcome to join in.
Oh, what a wonderful feeling it is to be included.
If I was told to sum up this album in just one word, I wouldn’t do it. I probably couldn’t do it. It wouldn’t be fair. Simply put, there are so many qualities that make Versions of Modern Performance such an idiosyncratic piece of art. There’s the delightful infidelity to the constraints of genre, the carefully-concocted lyrics, the emphatic performances of Nora Cheng, Gigi Reece, and Penelope Lowenstein, et cetera, et cetera. To assign a single descriptor to something so ornate would border on blasphemous. What I will say is that I’m happy that my expectations were challenged, captured, and executed by fire. Versions of Modern Performance is an album that’s genuine and honest. The band being called “Horsegirl” is not a mockery of the girl who gallops around the playground and collects Bella Sara trading cards. Instead, Horsegirl’s music offers the “Horse Girl” in all of us a place to be vulnerable and sincere. I highly recommend that you give Versions of Modern Performance a listen. You can really benefit from letting your inner-horse girl out of the stables every now and again.