Bootleg Theater & A Fistful of Vinyl Present
2220 Beverly Blvd
Los Angeles, CA, 90057
This event is 18 and over
For Love Often Turns Us Still—officially titled FLOTUS—is like many of Lambchop's records: a subtle masterpiece, the kind that slowly and generously reveals its quiet wisdom to those patient and attentive enough to receive it.
Start to finish, FLOTUS is imbued with that magic energy that comes when an artist stumbles upon the thrill of the new—something that makes them crazy enough to want to start the whole process over again. The album is bookended by two long-form pieces: the first, "In Care of 8675309," is most reminiscent of where Lambchop has been, while the second, the sprawling, hypnotic "The Hustle," suggests where they might still be headed. The latter seamlessly shifts between movements, a foundation suggestive of krautrock and early electronic music, gorgeously ornamented with perfectly placed piano and horns. Drawing upon a diverse palate of influences and transcending each one, it's a stunning piece of work—certainly one of the most impressive achievements of Lambchop's catalogue.
Watching an established artist work with a new set of tools is a gift and a true litmus test for authenticity—the result depending not on the tools, but on the unique sensibilities of the artist using them. FLOTUS is anchored by those sensibilities and is brimming with the many hallmarks of Lambchop's catalogue: the same beautifully nuanced arrangements, the same unparalleled ability to capture the eternal in life's quotidian struggles. Kurt Wagner has made a new path to the same old joys, and in the process, he found a record that sounds like no one else—or, completely, unmistakably, like himself.
A sense of place has been essential to the music of Brokeback since guitarist/bassist Douglas McCombs first launched the project in 1995. Initially conceived as a solo outlet, the Chicago group has taken on new dimensions over the past two decades, morphing from the lean, pastoral ambience of the first album, Field Recordings from the Cook County Water Table, to the more muscular, taut arrangements and dynamic swells of the last release, Brokeback and the Black Rock, for which McCombs assembled a new quartet lineup. Each album develops with exacting detail, revealing McCombs's gift for dialing in the essence of a mood, feeling, or distant locale with a handful of reverb-laden guitar tones, elegant and sustained, strategically placed and sparingly deployed. The instrumental landscapes he creates on Illinois River Valley Blues are utterly transportive, evoking familiar open-frontier soundtracks and charting out new sonic territory.