Eleven albums in, “Nashville’s
most *%$#’d up country band”
remains as indefinable as everI’ve long since given up attempting to label Lambchop; the exercise in futility hurts my head, and given that my ears are attached to that extremity, I need them focused on the task at hand. Is Lambchop alt.country? If sonic elements like steel guitars, nods to prime Burrito Brothers (tell me that “Close Up”—a kissing cousin to “Hot Burrito No. 1”—doesn’t grab you by the lapels of your Nudie jacket) or the occasional Countrypolitan string flourish strike you as such, sure. Maybe blue-eyed soul? Considering that songs such as “A Hold of You” could be Barry White fronting the Muscle Shoals house band with Al Green standing by in the green room, why not? Maybe indie-—hey, they are on Merge. Whatever: just listen to the damn disc. Kurt Wagner has kept Lambchop’s lineup constantly rotating since he began in 1994—and its typical dozen-person formation instantly qualifies as the quietest ensemble ever heard—and he still comes on like the Bukowski of Music Row, but when he busts out a line like “You’re busting my chops” (as he punningly does on the title track) you just cherish the man, and his work, for the illogical, indescribable blips that they are.
Listen to Lambchop's "Slipped Dissolved and Loosed" from OH (ohio):


I just bore witness to a Lambchop show in Asheville on a Valentine's night "date" with my wife of 28 years. They are the last of the romantics; beautifulness seemed to be the order of the night. What a dreamy sound! As subjective as the music experience is, I thought I heard shades of Neu, Burt Bacharach, and Bob Seger all intriguingly messed-up, like dreams, you know? We were won over by Kurt's charm, heart and impressionist songs and delivery steering this odd ghost ship.
Generally, the postpost 1990 indie thang is too precious for my taste, everyone seems to be competing to see who can embroider the most ostentatious, ragtag, pain-in-my-chest-oh-i-need-some-smack heart on their sleeve and i just have trouble buying it, or even downloading it. But this is modern music that doesn't groan or whimper.
And if Kurt listens to Lambchop it is probably because they're a band who plays it somewhat close to the way he hears it. If you don't like your own music why should anyone else?
On the encore he called his wife and Lambchop played a song for her. When it was finished he picked up the phone and asked her," that wasn't too loud was it, dear?. I'll be home in a few hours."