Είμαι φαν των Lambchop από τότε που άκουσα το What Another Man Spills, άλμπουμ του 1998 – θυμάμαι την εντύπωση που μου είχε κάνει η “άπλα” της μουσικής τους, ένα είδος ένα meta-country, εμπλουτισμένης με στοιχεία από άλλα διάφορα ιδιώματα, κυρίως ροκ αλλά και ambient – χωρίς αναγκαστικά την ανάγκη ηλεκτρονικών, άσχετα αν τα χρησιμοποιούν, όπως στο The Bible, το φετινό τους άλμπουμ.
Δεν ξέρω αν αυτό αφορά στο χάσμα των γενεών [o Kurt Wagner, κεντρική φυσιογνωμία του γκρουπ – κολεκτίβας απ’ το Νάσβιλ, είναι σήμερα 63] αλλά οι Lambchop αποτελούν για μένα όχι μόνο ένα από σημαντικότερα γκρουπ των ‘90s αλλά και μια από τις ελάχιστες σταθερές αξίες.

I’ve been a fan of Lambchop ever since I listened to What Another Man Spills [1998], I remember how impressed I was by the spaciousness of their music, a kind of meta-country, enriched with elements from other idioms, especially rock and ambient – without a necessary presence of electronics, regardless of whether they use them, as on The Bible, their last album.
I don’t know if it has anything to do with generation gap [Kurt Wagner, central figure of the Nashville collective, is now 63] but Lambchop, to me, is not only one of the most important ‘90s bands, but also one of the few stable values.

The room was warmer than it should be
The light in there was barely there
Slip on past it to the office
Find you slumped down in your chair
In the glowing of the desktop
There was a yellow legal pad
And on the pages, he had written
Numbers from his past
In the spring, the view was better
And I smelled the age on your right hand
Connect the keyboard to the light-switch
Make the wheels begin to turn
We talked the other night
And it was all there in the numbers
Behind your wall of photos
Is what shaped the focus of this day
I confess I have no purpose
I’m not complaining
Now these days are measured by the number
Thirty summers from today
We speak in loose abstracted thought
Waiting for a place to fit
It’s not the content of the doings
But what you’re feeling in the end
You could stay around forever
Till I remember where the focus was
I can see it as the wind blows
All the leaves upon the floor
Across the interstate, the world is like another world
And I wanna believe in that
Should get easier with time
And I’m an unnamed bird that sings the same sad song
My song is sung
That’s how I wanna believe in that
And it gets edgier with time
No one’s edgier than I