Lambchop
Nixon

THE REVIEW

For me, nostalgia, and perhaps for many, is often like a reversed horizon line that follows me instead of preceding me.

Just like the horizon line continues to remain distant from us no matter how much we try to move towards it, so does my past, which becomes nostalgia, follow me, always renewing itself, but remaining more or less at the same distance, just enough to keep me in sight.

Lately, my line of nostalgia is positioned around the 2000s (and nearby).

The 2000s were special for me as a writer, and not just because my daughter was born in 2000.

I have always believed that in those years (and nearby), the international indie music scene, particularly the American one, produced some wonderful and unrepeatable things.

The Flaming Lips of The Soft Bulletin, Mercury Rev of Deserter's Songs, Grandaddy of The Software Slump, Sparklehorse of Good Morning Spider, and Lambchop of Nixon.

All bought on Amazon in a few months' time, at the pace of the intellectual and motor progress of my newborn daughter.

Nixon is an album with its line of nostalgia positioned around the 60s (and nearby).

The soul of Marvin Gaye, Curtis Mayfield (especially), Barry White.

A sound reconstruction of the sound of those years, and the innocence lost by America in those years, made with heart in hand and with great mastery in arrangements.

With a slight touch of psychedelia à la "Anima Latina" here and there.

If this album has a flaw, it is that it is extremely "American" (with a title like that, how could it not be?).

But for once, I really don't care.

Best track (for me), with a truly "unbearable" nostalgic tone: Nashville Parents.

Too American in this era of Trump and "America First"?

But who cares.