The Obligatory

It was way back in the Glory Days of the Internet. 1999-2000. Word about Napster was just getting out, and a young Casey Schreiner sat in his dorm on Commonwealth Avenue in Boston - overwhelmed by an unparalleled access to new music, new friends with new musical tastes, and the pure magic and joy that only a dedicated T3 Ethernet connection can bring.

This was when I discovered Allmusic.com, as well as the archival properties of the Amazon Wish List. In my downtime, I'd browse the 'similar artists' sections of bands I knew, read up on the site's preferred albums, and add them to the vast basement of the List. On December 20th, 2000, I added Lambchop's "Nixon" to the list. I don't even remember why, or how I navigated to them from my then-current crop of new wave and jangle-pop psychadelia bands. Maybe it was from Andrew Bird, who I'd started getting into by then...

No matter.

Due to some extremely varied reviews from the Amazon crowd, and me not yet really knowing or understanding what "alt-country" was, I didn't buy it. Plus, the tinny Amazon RealPlayer samples sounded muddled and weird to me.

Fast-forward to 2006. I've graduated college, moved to the other side of the country, and - thanks to my good friend Christinia - picked up the alt-country craze well after it had ceased being fashionable to do so. And finally - finally - I pick up the Lambchop CD "How I Quit Smoking," after David Byrne covered the song "The Man Who Loved Beer" on his latest disc.

And I instantly fell in love. And kicked myself for not buying this stuff sooner.

My first thought was that the band is not - in the traditional sense of the word - alt-country at all. The self-described "Nashville's most fucked-up country band" is more of a nebulous, ever-changing pocket symphony. There are the pedal-steels and gentle twang of country, yes, but there's also a lush string section, jazzy guitar solos, soulful horns, funky bass lines, and just about every other type of musical style and instrument thrown into a mix that's not only surprisingly quiet and fragile, but also works amazingly well.

And under this complex musical backdrop, singer and principal songwriter Kurt Wagner part sings, part speaks, and part grumbles supremely poetic lyric portraits of life's most movingly mundane moments.

It's awesome. And unlike anything I'd ever heard before.

So I started scrambling to pick up everything I could, and have not yet been disappointed. Their new album "Damaged" is great, trading the spontaneity and range of their two-disc set "Aw, C'Mon / No, You C'Mon" for a set of ten hushed, beautiful ruminations. And I found out they're on tour. I've already got my tickets to see 'em in L.A. (with M. Ward opening!) and I honestly can't wait.

But since words didn't get me to listen to Lambchop, and since their sound is so unusual, I managed to dig up the only two videos of theirs on YouTube. Give 'em a listen. It's well worth the time.

"Is A Woman"


"Up With People"