This newsletter is an extension of the 2022 Summer Album Guide, and will evolve to include writing about the community, the city and the world in areas other than hot vinyl and vital music. But for now consider it a gesture to continue the art of the album review, forever disappearing in our print newspapers. - Dave Bidini
Lambchop
The Bible
What form might best recognize the merits of Lambchop’s Kurt Wagner? A towering figure made from Wisconsin cheese? A likeness sculpted out of potato mash? Maybe one of those burnt toast profiles half-smeared with peanut butter or country jam? All of these fit, since Wagner deserves a significant, and significantly American, tribute, having built a remarkable world out of a single dwelling, moving from subdued alt country in the beginning to recent wide-screen explorations of a digital macrame— noise, orch-pop, drum and bass— that starts at the same lyrical centre; an inner monologue gathering images of our modern world the way a bird gathers bits of ribbon. On one level, “The Bible” is the aural equivalent of “How To With John Wilson”-- finding tenderness in the commonplace-- yet on the other, it explores the emotional well of Nick Cave and Brian Wilson. Unlike those two, however, there is very little showbiz shape to what Lambchop does, and one of their convincing sonic achievements is that you never wonder what they might sound like live the way you never wonder how your favourite movie was made. The ride, at times, might feel disorienting-- the opening string sequence of the watery classic, “His Song is Sung,” is followed by “Little Black Boxes,” which sounds like something the Ibibio Sound Machine might invent-- but through “Police Dog Blues”-- written after the murder of George Floyd-- and the aching “Every Child Begins the World Again,” Wagner’s voice adheres the various forms, holding the hand of the listener like the uncle you loved best.
Purchase on Bandcamp HERE
The Beatles
Revolver
(Super Deluxe)
What a neat bit of ear candy. It’s amazing what Giles Martin has brought to the legacy of his father’s work: making a fast new engine out of old parts and losing none of the studio’s ancient warmth while making it sound alive in the autumn of 2022. The champions of this mix are Ringo’s snare drum-- presented here with more wrist and forearm-- and the electric rhythm guitars, hiding less behind the vocals and ceding nothing to Paul’s rowboat bass. If the math has never quite worked for some-- how did four relatively modest instrumentalists create such an inimitable sound?-- Martin’s mix is like opening the back of a pocket watch to see all of the springs, levers and wands moving together-- the tracks behind the tracks-- while making the songs tick along as they always have. The gold is in the details: Paul’s piano bench groaning in “I Want to Tell You,” John’s droning guitar in “And Your Bird Can Sing,” the horns at the end of “Got to Get You Into My Life,” and the Atmos movement across the speakers of the back-masked gulls in “Tomorrow Never Knows,” a toggling that filled my heart with joy and wonder. For those without German audio architecture, do what I did and lay the width of your phone across your chest and listen to what dances through the mix: it’s like Aladdin popping out of your screen.
Purchase HERE
Thanks for reading the West End Phoenix Newsletter! To subscribe to the print version of our newspaper you can go HERE ! For newsletter readers, use code THANKS15 at checkout for 15% off a years subscription!