Lambchop
Aw C'mon / No You C'mon

Nixon (the statesman, not the album) once said about the great war, that never before had so few Englishmen managed to create such a mess. For Lambchop, the reverse would apply: never have so many people managed to create so little noise.

Lambchop has 14 members; 17 if you count the credits on this "Aw C’mon No, You C’mon," which is the American group's seventh album in 10 years of activity (indeed, eighth, since it is actually two separate CDs). There's Kurt Wagner, the deus ex machina, on vocals and guitar; there's Toy Grow on piano, and that's true. But then we find all sorts of things: there's J. Marx in charge of "electronics," and M. Trovillion on "more electronics" (evidently not enough); there's P. Burch jr. on vibraphone, some Nevers on the knife-guitar (what the heck is that?), McManus handles the tumb-piano and Delworth is listed as "grass roots support," which I think would be a pretty cool side job. There are 6 guitarists, and, well, if we wanted to divide all the notes of the album equally, each would get 4. There's Deanna on vocals, but let a rock fall on my head from a bridge if I manage to spot her.

When they produced "Nixon" (the album, not the statesman), Lambchop received public praise but were disliked by critics: all that grandeur, those bloated arrangements, those intrusive strings; then came "Is A Woman" and the narrative flipped: all those bare-bones songs, those long silences and sobs, all those broken hearts making it so uncommercial.
A rather impatient Wagner sits down at a table, takes "Nixon" (again, the album, not the statesman), then takes "Is A Woman"; having done so, he keeps the best parts and throws the rest away; then mixes it all well, and what comes out is "Aw C’mon No, You C’mon," and he thinks: now let's see if they still give me a hard time.
There's the country drum, the soul chorus, the alt.rock melody; there's the voice, so damn American to the core. There's pop joy and it's a good thing because there's nothing better in the world than a wonderfully crafted pop song: 3 minutes flat, chorus and verse, and off to the shower singing happily. There's a bit of rock ("Nothing Adventure, Please"), but just a bit, just enough to make all these little rock bands blush with shame.
There's boogie ("Shang A Dang Dang"), folk ("Action Figure"), and lounge echoes ("The Gusher"). There's country taking soul for a walk ("I Hate Candy"), and soul betraying it with the blues ("Four Pounds In Two Days"). There's the moment when everyone makes peace, and the orgy emerges ("Timothy Schmit").
But, more than anything, there are honest people, trying to do the hardest thing in the world: remain honest, with themselves and with me.

Forgive me, in all these useless words I forgot my judgment. Here it is: two gorgeous albums, I couldn’t ask for better, right now. Or maybe not... who knows if the "grass roots support" position might become available...