Christopher Owens, St Giles-in-the-Fields, London

St Giles-in-the-Fields, a deceptively spacious church tucked behind Tottenham Court Road Station, may have been standing for hundreds of years as a religious sanctuary, but tonight it houses Christopher Owens; the man behind universally-lauded heartstring-tuggers Girls, and who sent hearts plummeting by announcing his departure from and the dissolution of that band in June of this year. Appearing on a hellishly freezing Tuesday night in surroundings as resplendent as the enigmatic persona he emanates both on record and in the flesh, Owens plays through his new and debut solo album, ‘Lysandre’, backed by a fresh group; not to mention the air of somebody making a fresh start.

Christopher’s solo work is not ‘Girls: take 2’; to expect his new material to be on the same page as his work on the acclaimed ‘Father, Son, Holy Ghost’ would be unreasonable. It’s not bad, by any means, albeit significantly less gritty. Compositionally, the album centres around one gorgeously medieval melodic theme - played out for the first time tonight, backed by a wafting flute, in opener ‘Lysandre’s Theme’. Lyrically, Owens is still as playful and as honest as ever, crooning ‘What if I’m a lousy songwriter,” during ‘Love in in the Ear of the Listener’. Eventually, the playful centric melody is screamed out as a guitar solo and played with fantastic bounce by a wailing saxophone, bringing both uniformity and hugely enjoyable variety to the pieces.

Tonight, in this space, though, Owens feels somewhat detached. There’s weight in his presence, but a weight reminiscent of a man dragging his feet somewhat. It feels premature when he tells us, after about thirty minutes that “that’s the album… and the show, really.” Taking advantage of the audience’s pre-existing knowledge that he’s an exceptional songwriter, however, the rest of his allotted time - well, almost the rest - is made up of a few absolutely delightful covers, including Cat Stevens’ ‘Wild World’ and Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘The Boxer’; the latter covering us in goosebumps something rotten, with the infamous chorus resonating around the church. It’s shockingly abrupt, though, when Christopher waves goodbye, deposits his guitar and walks briskly up the aisle as the lights flare above us. We’re left feeling a little bemused by his curiously bleak attitude and uncharacteristically humble new compositions, but although the material the music ‘Lysandre’ is built upon is not as rich a tapestry as his work with Girls, it tonight, at the very least, makes for a wholly memorable experience.