Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins @ Park West (3/14/2006)

It took seventeen years, but I finally stood in the same room with Jenny Lewis.

Surrounded by mostly young women at the Park West, I had to set aside the boyhood crush I had on Lewis back when I was eight years old, watching her co-star with Fred Savage in the Nintendo inspired movie The Wizard (1989). I was now the critic, and she was the seasoned musician on stage.

As the front woman for the L.A. group Rilo Kiley, Lewis has steadily gained respect in and around the indie music scene as being the real deal, not just another former Hollywood star trying to be the rock star. And on her first solo album, Rabbit Fur Coat, Lewis has proven herself capable of standing on her own two feet. She has removed herself from her Rilo Kiley songwriting partner, Blake Sennett, and has written a collection of songs that not only play to her vocal talents but also shed more light on her strengths as her own songwriter.

Strolling out under the lights inside Park West, Lewis resembled a young Loretta Lynn from head to toe, decked out in a dress straight out of Coal Miner’s Daughter with Sissy Spacek. Following behind Lewis were Chandra and Leigh, the Watson twins. In matching black v-neck dresses, the Watson twins took their positions behind their microphones almost as if they were levitating on air. The response by the capacity crowd brought a look of modest surprise to Lewis' face. It was as if her recent success going solo was still sinking in. As soon as she opened her mouth and that voice filled the room, the crowd was in her hands.

Drawing on much of her solo album, Lewis and her band performed with such high intensity that any thoughts they might slip into old routines from previous shows were erased.

“The Big Guns” caused the dance floor to suddenly erupt with stomping feet; the coy wink of “The Charging Sky” flooded the crowd with random thoughts ranging from the “sure fire bet” of death to a father “growing Bob Dylan’s beard.” The backing vocals by the Watson twins were by no means a gimmick; they could have easily been the showcase equivalent of the dancing entourage that follows Gwen Stefani. The twins brought out different colors to the songs and gave them a dreamy atmosphere that provided Lewis with plenty of room to stretch the music.

One such moment where Lewis really let loose was during a new song, described by Lewis as a “love story,” called “Jack Killed Mom” (the woman certainly has some wit). Lewis sat behind a keyboard and took this soulful tune for a ride with the band, transforming it into a powerhouse song that was textbook Ray Charles.

Jenny Lewis didn’t just wake up one morning and decide to transform herself into a pop-country artist backed by twins; this was music already inside her soul. What she accomplished at the Park West was introduce a brand new facet to her creativity that may not have been given an open road in Rilo Kiley to freely roam. She’s not asking the listening audience to take sides. She’s merely saying, “Hey, I can do this, too.” With a beer in one hand and an acoustic guitar in the other, Jenny Lewis took one step closer to becoming the complete artist that she’s working to be.

All Photos By: Chris Castaneda