Thirty-two years on from their debut album – and 26 from Nixon, the gorgeous country/soul confection that brought “Nashville’s most fucked-up country band” to a wider audience – Lambchop find themselves in a curious position. Their sole continuous member Kurt Wagner has displayed an admirable disinclination to rest on his laurels. He followed up Nixon with the austere, piano-driven Is a Woman and subsequently diverted into electronics, smothered his voice in Auto-Tune and distortion. Their last album, 2022’s The Bible, threw up everything from house music to glitchy rhythms to ambient drift to accompany Wagner’s pained ruminations on mortality and faith.
Throughout, Lambchop have kept up a remarkable level of quality control that’s meant they’ve ended up being slightly underrated or at least taken for granted. There’s been no career-defining crossover hit, no unexpected viral success, no foundation-shaking disaster followed by an attention-grabbing return to form; just a stream of really good albums and positive reviews. It’s the kind of steady success that’s hard to maintain but easy to overlook in an attention-deficit economy.
